Saturday
Keisha did indeed remain chained to my bedpost until the next morning. Still leashed, she dutifully woke me up with a pleasant blowjob, then assisted as I woke up Cindy with some gentle teasing and penetration.
I did not let the whole thing devolve into another orgy though. I had things to do, places to be, as I was unkindly reminded by Abby.
"Out! You lecherous, wanna-be-politician. I need you!" She shouted at me through the door, then stomped away. I hastily threw on some clothes, and followed, while Keisha and Cindy giggled uncontrollably. Women.
Still buttoning up my shirt I headed downstairs and found my living room now completely usurped. Where before it had only been a staging and meeting place, it was now a barracks and central organizing office. All the couches and chairs had been moved against the walls, the TV, Xbox and various other electronics removed, the tables placed strategically to allow pathways through the floor, and Matt was helping Alex remove the low set of drawers to another room.
Erica bustled in through the front door behind me, a small item of luggage in tow, and two large sleeping bags under her arms. Further suitcases were already neatly stationed beside strategic couches - as though claiming them. Amidst the relative chaos Irina sat beside Abby, staring into a computer screen at some charts.
"What the
hell
is going on here?!" I asked.
"We're setting up for the weekend." Abby declared imperiously.
"Dude, it's all hands on deck apparently." Mat whispered to me so that Abby couldn't hear. "Something's up with that woman..."
Alex returned with a projector, and began fiddling with the wires on the back of the laptop Abby and Irina were using. This caused some disruption - and a heavy berating of Alex by both of the ladies, while Alex sheepishly tried to explain that they had asked him to do this. I stepped in, distracted Irina by asking her to go collect Cindy (and Keisha, though I left that unsaid), and got Abby to finally explain what was going on.
I wasn't exactly happy about it at the time, but looking back I do think this was a good idea - and something that cemented my team together through the thick and thin of all my political career to come. But what had originally sent my campaign manager into overdrive was her ire at the school paper. She'd managed to convince the editor to do some informal polling. The results weren't good.
Oh they said I won by a landslide. I had the momentum, the high-level supporters, and the grassroots word-of-mouth going for me. I was much more than a shoe-in at somewhere above 57% of the electorate saying they'd vote for me, and short of me deciding to take a dump on the university crest in the campus square, while insulting the chancellor's mother, I was going to be the president-elect of the undergraduate student body. I had half a mind to tell Abby to pack everything up, congratulate her on her masterful running of my campaign, and retire to my bedroom with my bed-slave and girlfriend for the rest of the weekend. I didn't, because I knew Abby would be made happier seeing this through to the end, and I couldn't take that away from her.
Furthermore - as we would find out after the elections, the editor of the paper Abby had approached to undertake the informal survey happened to be roommates with Roger's right-hand man. He very specifically pulled bias into the statistics in one of the most impressive sleight of hands ever undertaken. For example, he had his surveyors picket primarily near hot-spots of Roger support (a local pub, Roger's dorm, around the fitness gym and near any class Roger might have. Then he also skewed the results by asking priming questions before asking whom the person intended to vote for.
In any case, the fact that despite the efforts of the poll-takers I still came out with a healthy 57% meant the final result was never in question. Of course at the time neither Abby nor I (nor anyone else on the staff) had any clue at all that the results were skewed - and they had Abby in a right mood. Our fearless leader and Irina presented the results to the assembled group on the big projector, and concluded with the instruction that all the stops were being pulled. Keisha and Erica were given the task of making me presentable at all costs, Irina and Alex sent online to create as much activity and word-of-mouth for my cause as possible, Matt and Cindy sent out to work their impressive social networks face-to-face for my benefit. What exactly Abby was going to do - apart from fume and command - was not entirely made clear to me, but whatever she did very obviously worked.
And so we fanned out into the city. I spent the day walking around the Library, the quad, the student union, the local pubs, and generally any place I might find anyone with an eligible vote. Talking to strangers is something extremely uncomfortable to me. I can do it when they're in a large group - such as at the speech I had given or to the press. But one-on-one I have a problem. I always feel like I'm intruding on their space and time, and that this is a supremely rude thing to do. My experience glad handing people around the campus that day was surprisingly different. I started in the Library, walking up to people studiously concentrated on their reading or note taking, and in a hushed voice would ask if I could have a moment of their time. Pretty soon I had a small gaggle of people around me asking questions and generally getting to know me personally.
The group grew to such an extent that a Librarian kicked me out. So I started wandering the quad, walking up to random people using their day off to laze in the sun, or study outside, or throw a frisbee. Again, I was a point of interest for many people, and so my circuit of the quad slowed further and further as more and more people started tagging along behind me. My speed was only further impeded by the 'Spot the Candidate' drive that Alex and Irina started running, where reported sightings of me were being posted on facebook, and allowing others to find me. Still, I maintained a relatively steady pace - my instructions were to allow as many people as possible to shake my hand and ask me a question or two - and I intended to make Abby happy, if for no other reason than that she scared me.
I crossed paths with the others of my staff out doing their own rounds, with lesser success than me of course. They had to be more subtle about their approach than me who could go out and badger people about whether they were intending to vote or not. Instead they were arranging meetings with friends, and then talking about what they'd been doing the past week, or striking up a conversation with someone about another subject, then trying to twist it to their own intentions.
We all worked in this fashion until near midnight, when Abby sent out the call for us to return. We gathered in my overfilled living room, tired and generally all just looking for a place to sleep. Abby insisted on a full report on their activities from everyone, then sent us all to bed.
Matt just collapsed on the couch he had, fully clothed, sighed and with a last "Thanks, dude", proceeded to close his eyes and drift off to sleep. Alex took care to cover him with a loaned blanket, then yawned and retreated to his room with Irina. Erica grabbed Keisha, by the arm, and explained that she'd brought a second sleeping bag for her, which Keisha graciously accepted, shooting Cindy an apologetic, and me a lascivious, grin. The two stylists curled up on the same broad couch. Abby herself changed into her pyjamas in the kitchen, then took a large armchair and shielded herself against the world and her worries with a light woolen wrap. Cindy and I retired to my bedroom, but after so much time on our feet we did little more than undress and collapse onto our bed together. Wordlessly we fell asleep.
Sunday
