The Revolutionary

For twenty days before Senator William Cockney's re-election, we sat in front of his campaign office. Me and my fellow brethren, we held up signs and shouted until our voices ran hoarse, bringing light to all the horrific corruption that Senator Cockney has brought to the country. Whether it was under-the-table bribes from foreign dignitaries or the 'generous donations' from large pharmaceutical companies that went straight into his bank account, everyone knew that the man was a menace, but only I had the balls to try and stop him.

"What do we want?" I shouted to the crowd in front of me. The light in their eyes had dimmed now after these long twenty days, but whenever they heard my deep throaty voice bellowing out what they've always wanted to say, the fire was relit.

"Change!" They screamed back to me in unison.

"When do we want it?"

"Now!" The crowd banged their pots and pans, and they waved their signs around in the air like they were each wielding glorious weapons of war.

"Senator Cockney has brought nothing to our country, to our state, or our towns, other than corruption and selfishness," I peacocked across the top of the stairs, looking down upon my group of revolutionaries. "He doesn't care about you, the working man; he only cares about his pocketbook and whether or not he'll get that check in the mail from one of the big pharmaceutical companies backing him."

"Yeah!" The crowd cheered me along, sending a rush of adrenaline up my spine. They all exploded into a cacophony of jeers and screams as Senator Cockney pulled back his curtain from his upstairs office. Once they finally died down, I took a good look at who came to protest with me today.

"You there!" I pointed to one of the members of the crowd. "What's your name, little one?"

The kid must have been 10 or so years younger than me (I was only in my early twenties at the time). "I'm Kevin," the young man held onto his mother's jacket with one arm and held up a sign with the other.

"I see your sign there, Kevin." I gestured a hand towards what was written on his sign and smiled wide through my bushy beard. "Did you make it yourself?"

"Yes," he said. "My daddy went to heaven, so I did it myself." The crowd went silent.

"You're his mother, correct?" I asked, and the woman beside Kevin nodded quietly. "What happened to the Kevin's father?"

Kevin's mother swallowed hard to stop herself from breaking down into tears. "He spent thirty long years running his small business down in Greensville. It wasn't anything special, but it was his. The Senator put a bill into place that piled so many regulations on his business that it went bankrupt in a matter of months." She paused for a moment to collect herself. "He fell into a bout of depression afterwards and he..."

"Ma'am," I interrupted her as she choked back a sob. "It's okay. Cockney will pay for what he's done to your family. He'll pay for what he's done to all of our families."

With tears in her eyes, she smiled and gripped the hand of young Kevin even tighter than before. "Thank you, Ron. I don't know what we'd all do without you."

Meanwhile, in the campaign office...

A stocky man in an expensive suit sat behind a desk with the curtains behind him closed. He was screaming on the phone about what was happening outside, and a faint slurping noise could be heard coming from underneath his desk.

"I don't give two shits about the ethics of it, Frank, this punk outside is leading a goddamned revolution against me!" Senator Cockney wiped the thick bullets of sweat off his brow and continued screaming into the phone. "I don't care what you have to do, just GET RID OF HIM."

The voice on the other end of the line was quiet and controlled. "If you kill him, he will only become a martyr."

"Then you —" Cockney paused, shuddering and breathing a sigh of relief as the slurping sounds from under his desk ceased. "One moment," he put the man on the phone on hold. "Cecilia, honey, that'll be enough for today. Go on back to your cage now." The sound of shuffling could be heard from underneath and a shapely woman popped out from beneath the desk with a glazed look over her eyes. She was the absolute picture of the word 'bimbo', with FF cup breasts jutting out from her petit frame and long blonde locks dangling from her head and tickling her back. Her caked-on makeup was smudged from her activities underneath the desk and she tottered her way out of the room on her skyscraper heels, with her hips swishing alongside the schoolgirl tartan skirt she wore.

Back on the call, the man on the other end said, "One of your 'projects', I assume?"

"Ah, yes. I believe you've actually met that one; Cecilia Evergarden was her name, once. She was a true business tycoon in the pharmaceutical industries that was the unfortunate victim of a 'random kidnapping'. You're welcome for that one, by the way." Cockney smirked as he zipped his pants back up.

"Well there's an idea," the man on the other end said. "Have you considered taking Ron into The Factory?"

Cockney pondered that thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No, that won't work. The Factory is meant to modify women into obeying my every command and changing their bodies to suit whatever I choose; it's not built to modify the mind and body of a man. Any other ideas?"

"So," the voice audibly smiled, "do you think that new renovations to The Factory are in order, then?"

"Well, once I get elected and I can guarantee my income, then maybe, but as it is right now, I don't have the funds to do anything like that. Also, I'm not really into male slaves, anyways."

"I'm willing to sponsor you on that end for until you get re-elected, of course. I happen to have a couple of men in my sights that I'd need to send to a facility like that, anyways, so our interests just so happen to align here. So, what do you say?"

Cockney leaned back in his chair and pondered the idea. "Give me some time to think it over. If our dear Ronald outside goes into this new factory, he'll essentially be dead to the public and blame will fall on me as the obvious culprit; that'll be a headache that I refuse to deal with."

"Fine, but your re-election is coming up soon, so my offer is only relevant to you for the next couple of days. And yes, if you change Ronald the usual way, you'll be dealing with the same situation that you were trying to avoid before, but... it's not as if this factory will be the same as the other one."

"Oh? Tell me what idea you've cooked up this time, Vlad." Cockney narrowed his eyes.

* * * * *

"Well," Cockney smiled wide and pulled back the blinds from his window to look down upon my rally in front of the building, "I do believe you have a deal, good sir. If Circe Pharmaceuticals truly has completed their research on the SS-20 virus, then I think that I've got their first human test subject right here. And moreover, once this virus has worked its magic, the new facilities will be more than ready for my dear Ronald to unlock his true self..."

Back on the ground...

Cockney and I met gazes as he pulled the blinds back into place, and I swear that I could see a faint smirk come over his smarmy features as we locked eyes.

The next day, once the crowd had formed and the protest began to get louder, the front door to the offices unlocked and Cockney stepped out to face the crowd. We all jeered and booed, banging our pots and pans and waving our signs at him, some even going so far as to throw various fruits his way. They were all blocked by his security team, of course, but it was nonetheless hilarious to see such a scene.

"My constituents," Cockney started, wearing a smile like it was a Halloween mask, "I'm so sorry to hear that you've all been having so much grief as of late. I understand your pains, and I'm doing everything I can to properly address the things that you all are saying. Who among you is willing to speak to me in private about these things so that I might address some of your more imminent concerns?"

The crowd stopped their rioting upon hearing the syrupy-sweet words coming from Cockney's mouth, and they all looked around at each other to see if anyone would take the stand.

I emerged from the crowd and climbed up the steps to the office proudly, and the crowd once again cheered for me, pushing me forward with their enthusiasm.

There were many turns and weaving hallways in this office building, so much so that I felt a bout of dizziness at even just imagining navigating through the place myself, but eventually we arrived at Cockney's office.

"Please, good sir, sit." Cockney sat down at his desk and gestured towards a nice faux leather chair sat in front of his desk for me to relax in.

"I'm good, but thanks," I said, and I continued to stand as I prepared my arguments in my mind. "I'm here to represent the people you've wronged with your actions as Senator, and to hold you accountable for all the lives you've ruined. Should we start with your dubious connections to the oil industry? Or maybe all the inner cities that have fallen to crime since you decided to completely ignore their existence? Or maybe —"

"Please, dear sir," Cockney interrupted. "We can talk all you want about that soon enough. But you've obviously had a long day and I think we should all just cool off for a bit and discuss these things calmly afterwards." He took a deep breath in and heaved as he breathed out. He reached over for a glass of water that was sitting on his table and brought it to his lips, taking a small sip before putting it back down. I licked my chapped lips instinctually and my mouth started to feel like it was filling with cotton balls.

"I just need you to listen to what I'm—"

"You sound rather hoarse, good friend," Cockney said with concern in his voice. He held up a finger to say 'hold on one moment', and he pressed a button on his desk. "Cecilia, honey, could you bring up a glass of water for our guest here? Thank you."

Moments later, a tall blonde woman in a secretary's outfit came into the office with a glass of water in her hand. I stammered out a thank you, and she giggled in response, showing off an insanely cute high-pitched voice that sounded like it belonged to someone 15 years younger than her as she replied with a 'You're welcome'.

"Gorgeous, isn't she?" Cockney smiled as he sipped his water, sighing contently after finishing his glass.

"Yeah, I— I suppose she is." I brought the glass of water to my lips, and before I knew it, the glass was empty. I never noticed the almost translucent swirling particles that were traveling around inside the clear liquid. "Oh, I guess I was thirstier than I initially thought."

"I'll bet," Cockney guffawed. He then looked over me as if he were undressing a woman, making me feel fairly uncomfortable. "You know, Ronald, I think you'd look a lot more professional and put-together if you'd just get rid of that gnarly beard of yours."

"My beard?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at his seemingly random suggestion. "What's wrong with having a beard?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing..." He waved his hand as if to dismiss the thought. "It's just that an excessive amount of body hair doesn't bode well for people in politics nowadays. The people want to see your face and body for what they are, not hidden behind large clumps of hair. But it's just a suggestion, of course."

"Well..." I thought for a moment, my mind drawing a blank as to what I should say in response. "Thanks for the input, I guess."

"Of course, Ronald. Now, shall we get down to business?"

My eyes lit up and I sat down in the faux leather chair to begin talking about everyone's grievances; we talked about the policies that I found reprehensible and how everyone hated how the small businesses in our community were getting crushed by the big corporate powerhouses.

3 hours passed by the time I left Cockney's office, and I only noticed after leaving that Cockney hadn't really said much of anything to me that whole time. He just let me drone on and on, lecturing him, essentially. Although, he did say that he'd talk to me again tomorrow. My throat sure was parched after that whole fiasco, though.

Cockney's bodyguards were leading me out of the building when we passed by Cecilia who was at her own desk and playing with a pencil in her hair whilst she worked.

"Cecilia, right?" I asked, my voice cracking a slight bit. "Sorry, my voice is still a bit hoarse after my talk with Senator Cockney."

"Yeah!" She giggled and twirled a manicured finger around a couple of stray strands of golden hair. "I'm Cecilia. Like, um, what's your name?"

"I'm Ronald Wright. Nice to meet you, Cecilia." I came in a little closer to her and said, "Hey, you know, I'm still pretty thirsty, do you think you could grab me another water before I go?"

"Umm," She put one of her delicate pink acrylic nails up to her lips as she thought for a moment. "I think, like, that would be okay?" She shrugged and stood up quickly to go grab another glass of water for me, causing her breasts to jiggle up and down. Cecilia spun around quickly to move towards the other end of the room and grab a glass of water, and I watched intently as her hips swished and swayed with every move, like a pendulum.

Cecilia's words broke me out of whatever funk that I was in, "Here you go!" She giggled to herself.

"Thank you very much, Cecilia." I shook myself out of it and smiled gratefully at her as I downed the glass of water in one go.

The men led me out of the offices and the crowd was waiting for my arrival with baited breaths. I gathered them around me and told them that I conveyed their grievances to Cockney, but that he made no promises about fulfilling our requests. Many people were disappointed, of course, but none of them truly blamed me for my 'failure' this time around. Eventually, everyone dispersed, and I decided to head home for the day.

"Finally home," I said to myself. I looked around at my apartment and tried to decide what to do with the rest of my day.

The Xbox next to my TV was dusty; I hadn't played it in years. The walls were painted a boring beige and the paint was beginning to peel because I hadn't gotten around to fixing it, and I wasn't planning on doing so anytime soon. And, to top it all off, there was a pile of laundry from last week that I kept forgetting about. Just more things to add to the list of things I'll never get around to.

After an hour or two of dazing off in front of the TV watching the local news, I flipped the off switch and trudged over to the bathroom to get myself ready for bed.

I met my reflection in the bathroom mirror and scratched at my beard absentmindedly. Man, I never noticed it before, but this beard of mine looks terrible! I thought, and I grabbed a razor to get rid of that nasty beard of mine.

There we go, I thought, rubbing my hand across my newly smooth facial features, nice and smooth, like it should be. I smiled to myself and finished getting ready for bed, quickly falling asleep once my head hit the pillow.

The next morning, I headed to the bathroom to quickly shower and then get ready for another day of protesting.

I got into the shower and began washing my body, feeling the coarse hair run through my fingers as the water dripped off my body. My hands reached my smooth face and a shiver ran down my spine; it felt absolutely orgasmic how absolutely wonderful my face felt.

As if in a trance, I began to drag my razor across my body and I watched for the next hour as the hair on my body began to fall off. Once I was properly smooth all over, I breathed a sigh of relief as I turned the shower off and began to apply lotion to my newly smooth body. The feeling as my hand glided across my legs and ass was like nothing I'd ever felt before, and I made a vow right then that this 'whim' of mine to shave my body would be something that I'd keep up with for the rest of my life.

I arrived at Senator Cockney's campaign offices sometime later, and after a quick chat with some of my fellow protestors, I was once again invited to speak in private with Cockney.

"Ronald!" Cockney proclaimed, giving me a big smile as he shook my hand vigorously. "Please, sit! I'm glad to be able to speak with you again."

I sat down in the chair, and as I did, I pushed my knees together almost instinctively. "I'm glad to be here, Senator. Now, I think we should start with—"

"Did you shave your beard?" He interrupted

"Eh?" I touched my newly smooth face absentmindedly. "Yeah, I guess I did. Just thought it was time for a change."

"I can't agree more, Ronald, I can't agree more." He let out a heavy sigh of relief. "You look good now that I can properly see your face, you know? If only you'd change your hairstyle a bit... Well, that's your decision to make, of course."

A small sense of insecurity washed over me as I grabbed at my rather lengthy mane of hair. It only went as far as my shoulders when let down and was usually tied back in a low ponytail, but this was the first time anyone had really said anything about it to me.

"What's wrong with my hairstyle?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing," Cockney waved his hand dismissively. Then, he flashed an expression that almost looked like a smile before going back to his rather stoic resting face. "I just think that your hair would look much... cuter if you'd simply do something fun with it instead of leaving it in that drab old low ponytail."

"Cuter?" I asked, feeling a rush of adrenaline pump through my body as the word filled my ears. "I— I don't really think that I—"

"Just consider it, please, Ronald. Your hair's got such a nice length, I'm sure that once you've styled it properly, you could even play around with it. I assure you, you'll thank me once you heed my words."

"Alright," I heard myself say, "I'll consider it once I get home."

After that, we talked for another couple of hours about his policies and the general infrastructure of this particular area, but again, nothing was truly accomplished. Moreover, there was only a week left until Cockney's re-election campaign, so my leverage was beginning to wane. Cockney also decided that we should trade phone numbers before I left so that he could notify me if he made any progress in his efforts to satisfy my requests.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then, Ronald!" Cockney gave me a big politician smile as he waved me out the door.

Once again, I stopped by Cecilia's desk on my way out to say hello. She asked me rather excitedly if I'd like another glass of water, and I obviously accepted, even if it was just so that I'd get to take another look at that wonderful behind of hers.

Back home, however, I thought long and hard about what Senator Cockney was saying to me. Not about his policies or the things he believed in regarding serving the people; the only thing on my mind was his comment regarding my hair. It nagged at me, like an itch that was just out of my reach.

I looked once again into the bathroom mirror at my reflection. The beard was gone, and it felt orgasmic every time I dragged my hands across my smooth hairless body and face. I turned to the side and looked at the reflection of my portfolio, noticing how the low ponytail that I usually wear with a normal hair tie just wasn't... working with the rest of my look anymore. With that, I took out the hair tie and shook out my lengthy brunette mane until it rested gently just before reaching my shoulders. I need a haircut, I thought.

But as I looked into the mirror, Cockney's words echoed inside my head incessantly. You'd be so much cuter if only you'd...

It was like my body was on autopilot, the way I maneuvered my hair into different styles. First, I tried out the high ponytail. It seemed a bit feminine for my tastes, but it wasn't as if it was all too different from my low ponytail, after all. And plus, the gender roles nowadays were getting blurred every day, so it's not like the hairstyle would be 'taboo' or anything.