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From: Guy Nickologist <ceres39@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Bloody Campaign Trail (M/F, menstruation)
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Date: Sun, 05 Feb 2012 11:10:01 -0500
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NOTE TO READERS: It's been a while since I've written anything.  I saw
a recent news article about how men can subconsciously detect when a
woman has her period.  Since it's the election season in the US I
thought I would tie the two together.  This story isn't overly erotic
and I took a shortcut at the end.  I was mostly trying to convey what
it must be like for a woman campaigning for president during her
period.

Chapter 1


	Congresswoman Sally Merrick stood next to the dinner table she shared
with her campaign manager, Paul Roberts.  An elderly woman gently held
Sally's hand while she expressed hope and support.

	"Sally, you will make a wonderful president and I promise to vote for
you."

	"Thank you ma'am.  I really believe I can do so much for our country
as president."

	"Well, you have my support."

	"Don't forget the election is in two days."

	The elderly woman patted Sally's hand and walked away as if suddenly
confused.  Sally sat back down.  She eyed her plate of veal parmesan
and pushed it back.  She held her head in her hands briefly and then
reached into her purse looking for a bottle of Excedrin.

	"I want this election to be over."

	Paul set his fork down.

	"Be careful what you wish for.  Especially given the latest poll
numbers."

	Sally popped three tablets.

	"What is it with the voters these days?  Two weeks ago I won South
Carolina and was surging here in Florida.  Now I'm, what, third?"

	Paul nodded.

	"You're within the margin of error of fourth and fifth.  You could
come in dead last."

	"Gee.  Thanks."

	"Where are Mark and the boys?  Aren't they campaigning with you?"

	"They're at Disneyland avoiding all of this."

	"In Orlando?"

	"Yeah, that's where it is.", she said sarcastically.

	"That's actually Disney World."

	Sally rolled her eyes.

	"Whatever, Paul."

	"That sort of thing matters to voters.  If they think you don't know
the difference between Florida and California, they won't vote for
you."

	"Do you really think they'll care?"

	"They will.  And the media will pick your carcass apart."

	"We have a sluggish economy, are drowning in debt, our country is
paralyzed and can't solve anything.  And what do voters care about?
Amusement parks."

	Paul held up his hands feigning helplessness.

	"Welcome to presidential politics."

	Paul took a sip of wine.

	"Sally, we've known each other for a long time, right?"

	"Seven years, I think.  When I first ran for Congress.  Why?"

	"I know what's wrong."

	"With what?"

	"Why you're polling so badly after only two weeks."

	"Okay.  Care to share this with me?"

	"Are you menstruating?"

	Sally blinked a couple of times.

	"What?"

	"Are you on your period right now?"

	"Paul.  Look.  We're friends.  But I'm not going to answer that.  I
can't believe you would bring that up."

	"Sally, it's not what..."

	"What?  Because I'm a woman I shouldn't be running for president?"

	"Sally, listen to me."  Paul paused to see if Sally would give him a
chance to explain.  "It's simple biology.  Men can sense through a
woman's voice if she's menstruating and his interest in her declines."

	Sally rested her chin on her hand and stared at Paul.

	"Go on.  I think you've lost it, but I can't exactly find a new
campaign manager less than 36 hours before an election."

	"When a woman is ovulating she attracts men as men are programmed to
propagate the species.  When she's menstruating she can't get pregnant
so men lose interest."

	"Paul, I'm running for president.  I'm not trying to get the nation's
men to knock me up."

	"It doesn't matter.  I would bet my job two weeks ago you were
ovulating and your poll numbers were high.  Now you're menstruating
and male voters have lost interest."  Paul paused for a sip of water.
"Think about it, four weeks ago you were polling badly.  I really
think your cycle..."

	Sally stopped him by raising her hand indicating "stop".  She glanced
around the restaurant.

	"I don't need tomorrow's 'Miami Herald' headline saying you and I
were discussing my monthly cycle.  We do need to figure out what the
hell is going on with my poll numbers.  I have to crisscross this
state tomorrow and have a debate in the evening.  Let's go back to the
hotel and discuss."

	Paul drove them back to their hotel in Palm Beach Gardens.  Sally
leaned against the door and took a very brief nap.  Paul listened to
the local news station.  The latest report had Sally dropping to
fourth place in the polls.  He clicked the radio off.

	"Sally, we're here."

	Sally came to and looked about.  She glanced at her watch.  It was
nearly ten.

	"I need to freshen up and try to wake up.  Come to my room in about
45 minutes."

	"Should I bring coffee?"

	Sally shook her head.

	"No, just some ideas how to can nail tomorrow night's debate."


Chapter 2

	Sally slipped off her shoes and walked into the bathroom.  She
removed her dress and looked at herself in the mirror.

	"I've aged ten years."

	She pulled off her panty hose followed by her panties which now were
at her knees.  She sat down to pee.  She reached down and pulled off
the smelly maxi pad, her monthly reminder that she was a woman.  She
reached between her legs and pulled out her tampon.  She rolled them
together and then wrapped the bundle in about six feet of toilet
paper, dropping the bloody mess into the wastebasket.  Sally flushed,
stood up, and unfastened her bra.  She started the shower.  Once it
was hot she got in.

	The hot water melted her stress away.  She turned and let it hit her
sore back.  Being on the road always made her feel dirty, as did all
of the meet-n-greet stops.

	Before the water could start to run cold she turned it off.

	"How the fuck did he know?"

	Sally stepped out of the shower.  She picked up the panties she had
worn all day.  Somehow she had avoided any accidents, so she decided
to put that same pair back on.  She took the all too familiar yellow
square from her handbag, unwrapped it, and pressed the maxi pad into
place.  She stepped out of the bathroom to grab a pair of shorts and a
t-shirt.  She returned to the bathroom and finished getting dressed.
Suddenly she regretted inviting Paul over.  She was exhausted and her
headache was getting worse.  She slipped on her shorts, decided to
skip wearing a bra, and just wore the t-shirt.  At 39 years old her B-
cup sized breasts weren't exactly dragging the ground.

	"But what if Paul notices that too?"

	Sally moved her torso while looking at herself in the mirror.  She
decided she didn't care.

	She took two more Excedrin and washed it down with Coke Zero.  Her
mind raced about Paul.  She could only imagine he glimpsed a pad
inside her purse.  How else would he know anything so private about
her?  Her own husband didn't pick up on these things.  Usually his
discovery just resulted in disappointment in the bedroom.  He wouldn't
touch her while she was bleeding.  He never picked up on mood her
swings, the smelly bloody clumps in the wastebasket, or even the fact
it had been 28 days since he last knew.  Lately she had gotten in the
habit of warning him.  This month he drove the boys up to Orlando for
a few days.

	Paul lightly knocked on the door.  She walked over to let him in.
She strode back to the sofa, folding her legs under her.  He sat in a
chair and rested his laptop on the coffee table.

	"My period started on Thursday."

	Paul nodded in agreement.

	"I still don't see why that matters to you, Paul."  She paused and
continued, "And I really resent you questioning me on something so
private."

	"Sally.  Please trust me.  Give me a chance to explain this.  And if
Wednesday morning you're still upset about it I will resign as your
campaign manager."

	"That's a hollow gesture, Paul.  I won't have a campaign in two days,
after the primary."

	"I noticed your polling numbers predictably rose and fell since you
announced your candidacy last summer.  Every two weeks you went from
the bottom of the heap to leading the pack and in another two weeks
you were back at the bottom.  My background is in biology and
psychology.  It was a wild hunch, but I was right.  Science has
suggested there's a subconscious aversion to menstruation that makes
sense in evolutionary terms, since males wanting to pass on their
genes are better off seeking out females closer to ovulation."  He
picked up his laptop.  "I have some of the research bookmarked."

	Sally raised her hand.

	"Paul.  No.  Just... no."  She paused.  "You're probably right.  But
what the hell am I supposed to do?  Get a hysterectomy?"

	"I spoke with an old girlfriend who is researcher at the University
of Florida..."

	Sally cut him off.

	"If you've been discussing my period with anyone I'm going to ask for
your resignation right now."

	"No, I didn't tell her it was you.  She knows my... well, we dated in
college and had a lot of bio and anatomy classes together.  I asked
her in general terms how a woman could send different signals.  And
she told me."

	"Okay, Paul.  Dazzle me!  What do I need to do?"

	"You need to convince male voters you're ovulating."

	Sally stood up and made a soft huffing noise.  She walked to the
minibar and took a bottle of water.  She opened it and drank nearly
half.

	"It's 2012.  Fucking 2012.  Mankind has never been more enlightened
or more educated.  And you're telling me my fluctuating estrogen
levels are influencing the votes of 80 million men?"

	"My Master's thesis was about how the base desire to reproduce is
what drives all human achievement.  And indirectly it's why attractive
people have more material success.  We're still cavemen in this
regard."

	Sally sat back down.

	"You have no idea how hard this is.  I have to look pretty and wear
high heels sixteen hours a day.  I have to grin and act happy while
I'm suffering from waves of cramps, horrific headaches, and back
pain.  I'm constantly fearful I'm going to have an accident which will
be on the front page of 'USA Today'.  I get into these crowds where
people keep smashing into my boobs.  Paul, it's utter fucking hell and
you and these millions of men will never understand."

	Sally sipped some more water.

	"What about the women voters?", she asked.

	"What about them?"

	"How is my leaking vagina affecting them?"

	"It's not as clear cut."

	"No, of course not."

	"If two ovulating women are competing for the same love interest, it
can get ugly.  And you would think women would sympathize with
menstruating women, but they don't.  In fact there is some aversion
there, probably related to protecting children from blood and other
potentially hazardous substances."

	"So I can't win."

	"The effect isn't as pronounced with women.  Honestly your poll drop
with women has less to do with your hormones and more to do with how
their husbands are influencing them.  A man says he's not voting for
you and often his wife will follow suit."

	"Oh come on, women have been allowed to vote for almost 100 years.
We can think for ourselves."

	"Not every woman is educated and independent.  Reality isn't
politically correct."

	"Paul, I'm not going to play this game.  Okay?  I'll do my best.
I'll return to Congress.  Maybe I'll be elected president after
menopause.", she added sarcastically.

	Paul glanced at his watch.  He grinned, picked up the television
remote, and tuned to a local station.

	"Breaking news.  A new channel 12 poll now shows Bill Beard, the
former Nebraska governor pulling ahead from the pack.  Beard has upset
many feminists by saying lack of jobs is a result of women in the
workplace and American children would be more successful if their
mothers were at home raising them instead of building careers.  But he
has struck a chord with men and evangelicals.  Meanwhile,
Congresswoman Sally Merrick, the winner of the South Carolina primary
just two weeks ago has fallen to last place with just 8% of Florida
voters saying they will vote for her on Tuesday."

	Sally picked up the remote, turned off the TV, and dropped the remote
on the sofa.

	"I cannot let that asshole, Beard, win this thing."

	Paul raised his eyebrows.

	"What do I need to do?", she added.

	Paul smiled.


Chapter 3

	"Do you have that skimpy purple dress?"

	"I have a purple dress.  I don't own anything skimpy, Paul."

	Paul picked up his laptop, sat down next to Sally, pressed a few
keys, and then showed the screen to her.

	"Do you remember this stop?"

	Sally studied the video.

	"This was at that auto plant, right?"

	"It was.  And you were wearing that purple dress."

	She watched it for a few moments.

	"Oh my god, my boobs are hanging out of that!"

	A few more seconds went by.

	"Holy shit, I was standing on an elevated platform in something that
short?  I probably gave every man on the front row a peek."

	After a few more seconds she pushed the computer away.

	"I can't believe I would allow myself to be seen in public dressed
like that."

	"I can tell you why you were."

	Sally didn't respond.

	"You felt sexy so you dressed sexy."

	"Great."

	"That video was from a newscast.  Oh, by the way, you won every
upstate county by a landslide.  Let me show you some video the
campaign took."

	Paul showed Sally a video of her touring a street festival in
Charleston.  She was wearing jeans with a low-cut blouse.

	"This was the next day.  Maybe it's because I'm a man, but if I
didn't know what this video was about I would swear you were flirting
and not campaigning."

	Sally looked at Paul like he was crazy.

	"It's your body language.  If you approached me in a bar I would ask
you out.  Hell, I'd probably ask you to sleep with me."

	"Oh come now!"

	"Sally, I'm serious.  Your gentle stare.  The way you play with your
hair.  How you move you hips."

	"I'm a 39 year-old mother of two.  I wouldn't be flirting with men
half my age."

	"It's subconscious.  I'm sure the men didn't directly detect flirting
since they knew who were and what you were doing.  But they were
obviously drawn to you."

	The two watched for a few more seconds when Paul blurted out, "Oh,
he's in trouble!"

	"Who's in trouble?"

	"Look."

	Paul went back a few seconds and showed her again.

	"Watch that woman with the stroller.  Probably his wife.  Look how
she's glaring at him while he talks to you.  She starts to speak to
him and it doesn't appear to be love talk.  But they walk out of the
field of view, so who knows."

	"So I gained a vote and lost a vote?"

	"Perhaps.  But the spikes we're seeing aren't as pronounced with
women."

	"Yeah, we're the sane sex apparently."

	"Not during PMS you're not."

	"Dammit Paul, that's a cheap shot!  I keep a tight reign on my
emotions during that time!"

	"I don't mean  you, Sally, women in general."

	"No wonder you're not married."

	Changing the subject Paul pulled up another video.

	"Here's a stop in Tampa last Wednesday.  Look at how you're dressed
and how you interact."

	Sally saw she was wearing a dark, loose fitting dress.  She looked
tired.  She saw a striking difference between this video and the
earlier videos.

	"Paul.  God, if you were a woman you would get this.  I had my tubes
tied.  I'm not on The Pill.  I don't know exactly when I'm going to
get my period so I have to wear dark clothing just in case.  I was
bloated and as much as you'd like to see me in a skin tight skirt, it
would be uncomfortable.  And I remember this day.  I had cramps from
moment I woke up until I finally went to bed after midnight."

	"And you're acting like a cold fish and voters are responding.  In
fact I'll go as far as to say you're only helping Beard's cause."

	"Oh my god, how the hell am I helping that misogynist?"

	"You're acting like a bitch and he's delivering an anti-woman
message.  He did poorly in conservative South Carolina but is leading
the pack in moderate Florida.  It should be going the other way."

	Sally leaned back into the sofa.

	"This is too much."

	Paul didn't say anything.  Instead he closed his laptop and looked at
his boss.

	"Part of me wants to tell you to go to hell, but part of me knows
you're right.", she admitted to Paul.

	Paul slowly nodded.

	"What do I do?"


Chapter 4

	"You need to broadcast that you're feeling sexy even when you're
not."

	"Paul, this whole thing sounds like tale out of 'Penthouse'."

	"Look.  I know this isn't easy."

	"Paul, with all due respect you can't possibly know.  You're not a
woman."

	"Sally,  you're a politician.  A white, upper-middle class, well-
educated woman.  How can you know what it's like to be black?  Or an
immigrant?  Or a miner?"

	"Paul, that's completely different."

	"It's not, Sally.  It's called 'empathy'.  I have dated women.  I
talk to women.  I know it's hard to be a woman.  You have to deal with
shit that men can't even fathom.  And add to that politics is still
much a man's game.  It'd be like if for a week your four male
competitors had to campaign with their balls in a vice."

	"Believe me.  If that were the case men would have paid time off
while their balls were in the vice and wouldn't be expected to
campaign."

	"Sally, have you looked at the primary calendar?"

	"Of course."

	"Most of the important primaries, including Super Tuesday fall right
in the middle of a period.  They're going to make a huge, red splash."

	Sally giggled.

	"A huge, red splash?"

	"Blood everywhere."

	"What do you want me to do?"

	"Go put on your purple dress and we're going rehearse."

	"Rehearse what?"

	"How you're arouse the Sunshine State tomorrow."

	Sally stood up, went to her closet, pulled out the purple dress and
walked into the bathroom.  She pulled over her t-shirt and dropped her
shorts.  She slipped on the dress, zipped it up, and walked back into
the main room.

	"I am not going to put on makeup at 11:30 at night."

	"Okay, fine.  Pretend I'm a male voter and you're trying to win me
over."

	Sally smirked, walked over to Paul and said, "I'll fuck your brains
out if you vote for me."

	"Deal!"

	"Paul, this is pointless.  I just don't feel sexy.  It's not
something I can just turn on and off."

	"What if Mark was here.  The boys are asleep in the next room.  He's
tired, but you want to make love.  How would you approach him to get
him interested?"

	"Well, as soon as he saw I had my period he'd probably go sleep on
the floor in the boys' room."

	"You have got to be kidding me?"

	"What man would want to fuck a woman during her period?"

	"More than you would think.  You've never had sex during your
period?"

	"No!  Wait, that's none of your business!"

	"Maybe you'd feel sexier during your period if you had a husband who
made you feel sexy."

	"Well, I don't!"

	"Your boobs are hanging out."

	"I told you that's what I hate about this dress."

	"I think it has more to do with you not wearing a bra."

	Sally looked down and saw she had managed to slip out.  She didn't
overreact.  She just popped them back into the dress, stood up, and
asked Paul to leave.

	Paul stood and motioned like he was picking up his computer.  Instead
he embraced Sally and kissed her.  She didn't resist.  In fact she
pressed into his lips.  He squeezed her ass with this left hand.  She
ran her right hand down his left arm, started to pull his hand away,
but then pressed his hand into her.  She pulled her lips away, gasped
for air, and said, "Make me feel sexy."

	Paul unzipped her dress and she squirmed out of it.  She stepped
back.

	"Are you sure you want to do this?"

	Paul answered, "Yes."

	Sally walked to the bed.  She pulled down the sheets and got in.

	"Take your clothes off and join me."

	Paul stripped naked.  As he approached the bed she said, "Don't
look." and quickly slipped off her panties and dropped them on the
floor.

	Paul held Sally.  He kissed her and ran his hand across her right
breast and onto her crotch.

	"Paul, just fuck me.  No foreplay."

	"Are you sure?"

	"This sounds really kinky, but right now the idea of being used
sexually is the only thing that's going to get my motor humming."

	Paul got on top of Sally and pressed himself into her.  She gasped.

	"Were you ready?"

	"My vagina is full of blood, it went right in.  You're just so.
Large."

	Paul started his rhythm.  He tried to kiss Sally, but she just turned
her head.

	"Would it help if I called you a 'whore'?"

	"No!  Why would it?"

	"So you feel used."

	"Just fuck me, okay."

	Sally's directness was more than Paul could handle and he emptied
into Sally.  After his cock stopped pulsating he lied down next to
her.  They both breathed heavily neither saying a thing until Sally
spoke after about a minute.

	"Politics is a fucked up business."

	Paul looked over at Sally.

	"I never wanted children.  But in this country a man without a family
would have trouble getting elected.  A woman?  Forget it!  She's
failing her motherly duties.  It's why God gave her a uterus."  She
paused and continued.  "I had to name the two.  The first was
Zachary.  The second Taylor.  That's our fucking 12th president.  It
wasn't on purpose, but I think I did it subconsciously."

	"I'm sorry to hear that.  And I'm sorry for..."

	Sally quickly glanced at him.

	"Sorry for what?"

	"Adultery.  I swear this won't get out."

	"Oh please.  You're not the first."

	"Oh."

	"Don't act so disappointed."

	"No, I mean.  Your image."

	"I'm discreet."  She paused again.  "I've never told Mark this, but
I'm absolutely certain Taylor isn't his."

	"What makes you say that?"

	"I was in Switzerland with Senator Morrison.  We slept together every
night.  I think I went a whole month without sleeping with Mark, but
he never did the math.  Or just forgot we hadn't been together."

	"Isn't he retired?"

	"This was a few years ago."

	"The man's pushing 70."

	"His dick still worked."

	They lied quietly until Sally spoke.

	"Okay, I'm dripping.  I'll see you in the morning.  Leave."


Chapter 5

	Sally stood on stage at the West Palm Beach Hilton.  Her husband held
Taylor who was asleep.  Zachary acted uninterested.  News anchors
across the state were calling Sally's campaign the comeback story of
the century and frequently remarked how she was glowing and on fire.

	Sally turned to Paul and winked.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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