You can read the original Ruined Dreams here (link).
Voters were easy to fool.
For example, Jasmine Branch had run for Mayor of Sunset City on a platform of feminism and women’s rights, and the electors had rushed to vote for what they saw as a reform-minded progressive girlboss.
When, in reality, there was nothing Jasmine liked more than seeing a pretty girl degraded, naked, and crying, preferably while being raped by a man.
Right now, as Jasmine sat at her mayoral bench, going over the latest reports from Ruined Dreams, there was just such a pretty girl kneeling naked between Jasmine’s legs. The thick mahogany supports of the desk shielded the girl from general view, Jasmine’s skirt was pulled up to her waist, and the girl’s face was buried in Jasmine’s exposed pussy, vigorously sucking on Jasmine’s clitoris. The girl was still prone to burst into fits of crying, and the feeling of her warm, salty tears against Jasmine’s thighs was threatening to give Jasmine her third orgasm of the day.
The girl’s name was Sophie, and she was the daughter of one of Jasmine’s richest backers, Eldridge Gaunt. Eldridge had hinted that Jasmine might give his daughter an internship for the summer, as a stepping stone to a prestigious career for Sophie in politics, law or business, and Jasmine had agreed immediately, mostly because , petite brunette 19-year-old Sophie was obscenely gorgeous.
But also because she knew that Sophie was a little rebellious, and had a poor relationship with her father, and that if Sophie got anything less than a perfect report from Jasmine relating to her behaviour in the internship, she would risk losing access to her trust fund.
Sophie had initially thought it was a joke when Jasmine had told her that her job would involve kneeling beneath Jasmine’s desk and licking Jasmine’s cunt. So Jasmine had called in her other intern, Tyler, a fit young man who in fact had gone to the same school as Sophie, and had had something of an unrequited crush on the girl. Jasmine told Tyler to rape Sophie, and Tyler had eagerly agreed, slapping the silly little slut across the face, ripping off her clothes, and vigorously fucking her pussy as Sophie had screamed and struggled.
Jasmine had just watched, and rubbed her own cunt happily. Her office was soundproofed. And she knew that Eldridge Gaunt would never believe she had so brazenly ordered the rape of his daughter. If Sophie dared to speak about it, Eldridge would assume it was some ploy on her part to get out of doing honest work.
Sophie knew that too, which is why when the rape was over and Tyler had ejaculated in her pussy, she made no further mention of resisting or going to the police. Instead, she crawled on all fours, still crying, over to Jasmine, and took her place beneath the Mayor’s desk. Shortly thereafter, Jasmine felt the touch of Sophie’s tongue on her pussy, and she enjoyed her first orgasm from the girl’s ministrations within minutes.
Sophie had spent the last three days there. When Jasmine had to leave the office for any reason, she let Tyler sit in her chair and plug Sophie’s mouth with his cock.
It wasn’t entirely a bad deal for Sophie. Once Sophie had internalised her abuse and violation to the point where she longed to inflict similar treatment on other women, Jasmine would start training Sophie to run one of the various programs in the city aimed at the humiliation and objectification of women. From Jasmine’s perspective, Sophie was genuinely learning the skills and attitudes that any pretty young rich brat should learn, and she had a bright career ahead of her in the enslavement of her own gender.
As Sophie licked at Jasmine’s cunt, Jasmine idly wondered whether Eldridge Gaunt would donate *more* money to her re-election campaign if she told him, at the end of Sophie’s training, that he could now fuck his own daughter without consequences? Or would it maybe be a step too far?
Jasmine had had fantasies about the systemic abuse of women since puberty, but it was her encounter last year with her old friend Eric Zajak and his “Ruined Dreams” strip club that had pushed her to make those fantasies into a reality. Eric had set up a corrupt system of kickbacks with local police and justice department officials, under the guise of a “justice reinvestment scheme”. Police arrested pretty young girls on often fake charges. The court sentenced them to community service, with the threat of imprisonment if they failed to complete the service. And the corrections officers assigned the girls to do their community service at “Ruined Dreams” – where Eric forced them to strip naked for customers, occasionally fuck customers for money, and forced each girl into personalised scenarios designed to most specifically humiliate them and destroy their dreams of future empowerment and dignity.
In her visit to Ruined Dreams, Jasmine had watched a girl who had been “saving herself for marriage” forced into repeated on-stage marriages to men, women, animals and objects. She had seen homophobic Christian girls forced into lesbian sex-shows. She had watched a feminist be forced into giving speeches on “why all women deserve to be raped”, and made to undergo surgery to receive giant fake bimbo tits.
She had never orgasmed so hard – or so publicly.
She had immediately accepted Eric’s offer to expand Ruined Dreams into her electorate of Sunset City. She had arranged the necessary bribes and coordination between the various parts of the justice system, and Ruined Dreams had opened for business just last month on a prominent block in the red light district. A small group of women had campaigned against it – no more than seven young MILFs, and all of them opposing it just because it was a strip club, with no idea of its real purpose.
Jasmine had arranged for the police to arrest each of those protestors on various confected charges, and she had enjoyed watching all seven blushingly stripping on stage at Ruined Dreams’ opening night. Footage of their naked bodies gyrating had been used in the advertisements and trailers for the new club, and distributed all over the internet with the real names of the women included.
Allowing the strip club to open had cost Jasmine some of her feminist credentials, however. She’d spun the opening as a victory for women – empowering women to explore their sexuality in any way they chose, and recognising strippers and sex workers as deserving of the same rights and respect as any other woman – but it still hadn’t been a good look.
So right now, Jasmine was drafting a new law that would win back the approval of the sex-phobic “feminists” who had elected her. It was a simple law, criminalising the production of pornography. She would sell it as a blow against the “pimps and pornographers” who were corrupting the young women of Sunset City – but laws were only as good as the police and prosecutors who enforced them. And Jasmine would make sure that those police and prosecutors tiptoed lightly around any men who might be charged under these laws – and prosecuted any women to the full extent of the law.
If a girl took a naked photo of herself to send to her boyfriend, she would be guilt of creating pornography. If a boy took a naked photo of his girlfriend, and she didn’t actively withdraw consent, they would both be guilty of an office – but the boy would be given a slap on the wrist, while the girl would be threatened with jail time.
In fact, if a man raped a girl, and took a photo of her being raped, the police might still prosecute the girl. She would have to prove in court that she hadn’t consented, and the photos of her rape would be tendered into public evidence, and many times her lawyer would suggest that she simply plead guilty rather than face the embarrassment.
Police would have the power to seize and inspect the phones of pretty girls, just in case the phones held any pornography, and they would be able to take copies of any data they found on those phones, and retain it, and share it with the Mayor’s office.
Eric Zajak would, of course, pay Jasmine a sizeable kickback for each convicted girl that she sent for him to ruin. But Jasmine suspected that the flow of girls from this new proposal might exceed Eric’s capacity to process them. She would need new outlets for the “community service” of these girls – new ways to objectify them, monetise them, and ruin their hopes and dreams. And maybe she could make a larger cut of the profit on these new alternatives. After all, re-election didn’t come cheap.
She looked at another letter on her desk. It was from a men’s rights group. It was complaining that amidst the sizeable expansion of “justice reinvestment” for pretty young women, the city was overlooking the rehabilitation needs of male offenders who had completed their sentences. Where was the investment in men?
It gave Jasmine an idea. She looked down at the pretty brunette cuntlicker under her desk.
“Sophie, honey,” she said. “Help me brainstorm an idea here.”
Sophie looked up at her with big puppy-dog eyes – although she didn’t stop licking. Jasmine had slapped her the last time Sophie stopped licking without permission, and she had learned her lesson well.
“If you were a teenage slut arrested on a pornography charge,” Jasmine asked slowly, “and your community service required you to perform chores and domestic assistance in the homes of convicted rapists wearing only your underwear, how would you feel about that?”
Sophie’s eyes widened, and she was so shocked that she forgot to keep licking, and even dared to speak out loud. “You can’t…” she spluttered. “That’s insane!”
Jasmine nodded. It was exactly what she had expected. She grabbed Sophie’s hair with one hand, and slapped Sophie across the face with the other, before forcing her head back down against Jasmine’s cunt.
“Thank you, Sophie,” she said. “That’s what I was hoping for. You’re right – it *is* a great idea. In fact, I’ll even let you take credit for thinking of it. We’ll call it a Sophie Gaunt Maid Apprenticeship. Now be a good sweetie and chew on my clit a little more. I think I’m about to cum…”