Power

Terri Godwin was restless. She stared at the large image of her grandfather, himself a former Governor of Virginia, and pondered how he would've handled this crisis.

"Get back to bed," stated First Gentleman Robert Harwood. She continued pacing. "There's a ruler of the world now. And the President saw fit to give him bodyguards."

"And?"

"And, Bob, he's on Virginia territory. It's my responsibility to protect him with state troopers. Or, at least, I should've been consulted."

"The President doesn't care about Virginians. Never has."

"Exactly. Maybe we should go over his head."

"Whatever, Terri. Can we fuck now?"

The governor rolled her eyes and went back to bed.

The plan was simple. Terri had been briefed by the Feds on Joe Schlansky's sexual proclivities with some bartender. She would find a way to seduce the most powerful man in existence and move from there.

At 36, Terri was very attractive. Six months pregnant with her second child, she had been sought after to run for President or Vice President in a future election, although she didn't have the right contacts for that just yet. The Governorship was a major boon, and a Senatorship would be the likely next step.

She had been a White House intern, a congressional staffer, and a part-time lobbyist, so had no qualms about having unwanted sex with older men. Harwood was just some random 40-year-old oil executive she seduced in order to gain financing for her gubernatorial campaign (and the first baby, a necessity to promote "family values").

Later that afternoon, she sat at her desk, surrounded by staffers as she prepared to make first contact with you.

"Mr. Schlansky, sir? This is Governor Terri Godwin," she breathed heavily in anticipation.

"Oh, right, the preggo chick. I'd love to see your tits."

"Um, right, sir. We can certainly arrange a private viewing session. How about coming down to Richmond, and we can discuss these and other matters?" Terri had sworn her staff to secrecy, and was certainly hoping this conversation didn't get leaked.

"I don't know. Richmond's a long way away, and I feel like relaxing and maybe fucking my daughter a few more times."

Terri tensed up. You were more of a degenerate than she thought, but she didn't doubt your sincerity. Supreme power and all.

"That's no issue, sir. I can come to you."

"Sweet, can you get here by dinnertime?"

She looked at the clock. "Yes."

Three hours later, you were relaxing by a new TV, with Tricia, Jordan, and Sandy surrounding you. All were naked, and all were watching some Game Show Network. It was your favorite show, and GSN was doing a marathon, apparently at your behest after you made Goodwin call them.

Tricia was crying, probably upset about the rape or something. Or maybe just alarmed at her mother's state in the basement as breeding stock. You shrugged your shoulders. The couch was brand new, or new enough, taken from one of the wealthier neighbors and deposited where Betty's soiled couch once lay. There were three guards in the room, other than Jordan, all keeping close watch on Tricia, while the others patrolled the perimeter and occasionally raped Betty.

It was then that the governor arrived with a friend. You watched as Jordan and Collins patted down the two, Collins tactically patting down the blonde bombshell in a cocktail dress, Jordan being much more thorough, and frankly unprofessional, as she patted the Governor in her dark business suit.

Jordan was still nude, and she took the chance to rub Terri's clothed breasts, her protruding belly, and reached under the skirt for who-knows-what. Terri, for her part, didn't seem surprised, and merely winked at you with an alluring smile.

After the patdown, you simply arose and approached the two, neither alarmed at your state of undress. You get up close to the Governor, and embrace her in a kiss, suprised when she reacts passionately. "Who's your friend?" you whisper.

"Lana McTeague. She's a high-end escort from DC. Very discreet and very renowned," she whispered.

You back off. "Collins!" you yell for the one JSP who seems to hate you the most. "Take Ms. McTeague out back and kill her. I don't need any whores."

Everyone stood in shock at your pronouncement of murder. Collins was surprisingly fast-to-react, taking Lana, and leading her out the door. You stared at the Governor, a seductress who clearly was trying to control you, and ripped off her shirt. "Show me those tits!"

You sat back down on the couch, between a stern Jordan, frightened Tricia, and numb Sandy, and watched the Governor shakily remove her torn shirt and bra. You smiled at the large milk-filled breasts atop an almost as-large belly. She took the initiative to drop her skirt and panties as two JSPs surrounded her in full riot gear.

A shot rang out and you smiled as everyone else flinched. "Suck me off while I watch some Match Game," you say to no one in particular.