It had been a long and arduous campaign so far, Miranda having to lock heads with several big-named candidates already, but the way had finally cleared for her. Having established herself as a dominant party, she took pride in her style of campaign, especially with the results it showed.
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She strived to out each of her main opponents, presenting evidence and accounts of their misdeeds, some being smaller infractions, such as tax evasion or misuse of campaign funds. Though some gave her the reputation and exposure that she needed, having found evidence of her debate opponent being involved in a trafficking ring, she made a display of having the police apprehend him mid-debate, dragging him away kicking and screaming.
Of course, she was no better. The kind of information she was pulling up from them was either stolen away from private computers, bought on the black market, or exchanged for political favors. Despite her under-hand methods, the spotlight remained firmly on the fruits of her labor, and she wasn’t letting a single moment go to waste.
“Do you really want to entrust your lives to these dirty, perverted men any longer?”
That was the final nail in her opposition, projected numbers looking as if she was about to win a landslide victory. However, the final candidate that was left in the running was already taking preparations to even the playing field…
He had made plans with his tailor for something very unique, putting the finishing touches on before the big reveal.
“So water, that’s it?”
His name was Stan Walters, having a strong lead up until Miranda made her claim on the runnings, but he wasn’t about to let her keep that lead for long.
“That’s right. The stitching is all water soluble, so a little drizzle and it’ll all come falling apart!”
Still appraising his work, Stan continues questioning him.
“How about our little ‘addition’? I hope you were able to procure the final touches.”
With a proud smile, the tailor affirms his success. The tailor had done his work, replicating Miranda’s usual outfit in obscene detail, only with a few little surprises hidden within. His lips curling into a smile, Stan pats his tailor on the back, letting out a brief chuckle at their work.
“The little bitch won’t have a political leg to stand on after this… though I’d much prefer her on her knees anyway…”
With that, they parted ways. Stan took measures to ensure that her outfit was swapped and ready for her on the day of their debate, also preparing his points to make her upcoming position sting that much more.
Both parties bided their time until the day finally came, the usual nerves overtaking Miranda as she tried to calm herself backstage. All throughout the brief wait, she can’t help but feel a burning gaze on her back, constantly looking over to see her opponent, Stan, staring her down, a hungry look in his eyes. She was used to it, many of her opponents seeing her as nothing but an object for their attraction, as if they owned her, but she made an example of each of them already, he’ll be no different.
Once called out, the initial debate went smoothly enough, neither side giving the other a chance to attack, they simply answered mundane questions from the crowd. Though the time soon came for Stan to lay his trap, unable to stop himself from smirking as he prepared to speak.
“So, how would you like to respond to the claims that the information you’ve been using to round up your opposition was ill-gotten?”
Miranda froze for a moment, taken aback as to how he had this kind of dirt on her, but steadying herself enough to respond clearly.
“Frankly I ignore them. Gossip of that sort tends to come from foul mouths.”
It was a complete deflect, but Stan took the slight victory, the concerned faces in the crowd showing as much. Still, it wasn’t enough to make his victory as sweet as he wanted.
“I suppose that’s fair… After all, the results speak for themselves! Who would want a depraved pervert leading the people?”
Miranda hesitantly agrees, unsure of where he’s planning on taking this, but still wanting to take the support of her work. She couldn’t calm the anxiety in her heart though, unable to grasp what Stan is aiming for. Lost in thought, Miranda is snapped to her senses as he speaks again.
“How about the allegations that you yourself have been engaging in rather scandalous behavior?”
The crowd jeers at his challenge, making Miranda realize that she still has a lot of people to win over, half of them against her at a simple question.
“I wouldn’t entertain the thought! I’m committed to my future duties toward the people, nothing gets in the way of that.”
Stan smiles at her response, causing Miranda to quiver beneath his gaze, understanding that he must have some sort of retort ready for her. Only… nothing comes… instead, Miranda looks up, feeling a faint drizzle begin.
It only took a few moments to take effect, Stan smiling to himself as he watched Miranda touch her clothes, feeling a faintly sticky liquid ooze from the seams, then suddenly clutching her arms around her. The crowd joins in on the interest, watching as Miranda struggles to hide behind her podium, wrapping her arms around herself in an effort to hide something, until Stan makes his next move.
“What’s the problem? I could have sworn that a moment ago you claimed you had nothing to hide!”
Unable to hold back his smug grin, Stan walks over to her podium slowly, grabbing it as he leans behind to catch a glimpse of Miranda hiding behind it. Locking eyes for a brief moment, Miranda finally understands the kind of opponent she had been against, letting out a faint whimper as he tosses the podium off of the stage, revealing what he had planted for her.
The crowd gasps, watching as he roughly pulls Miranda to her feet by her hair, exposing what had happened. Her clothes become tatters, each falling to the ground from her body, as if the stitching itself had disappeared, revealing the outfit that had been sewn into it. Miranda stood there, forced to her feet by Stan as thousands of people stared across her body, half-exposed in her hidden outfit.
She now wore a pink fabric bikini, soft to the touch, with purple letters across it reading ‘Daddy’s Slut’ across her chest. Her slender body was almost completely exposed, having remained professional for months leading up to this moment, Miranda began tearing up from being revealed like this. Her silence gave way to thrashing, trying to break free from Stan’s grasp, only to have her defiant movements quelled by his strength.
“You see?! This is the whore you obediently cheered for!”
Making her face the crowd to emphasize his point, Miranda felt her heart ache with shame at the lecherous gazes of people who were once her supporting people, enjoying the sight of her being turned into a lewd display. In a second effort to escape, Miranda kicks away and runs toward backstage, only to be grabbed by Stan, now holding her arm behind her back, keeping her bent over for the audience. In this new position, the same purple letters could be read across the panties covering her ass, ‘Spank me!’.
“And since she’s asked so nicely, how could I refuse a whore what she wants?!”
Tears freely flowing, Miranda lets out a defeated squeal of anguish, kicking her legs as she’s held in place. A shrill whimper is forced from her lips as she feels his hand reeling against her cheeks, letting out a flurry of harsh punishments in front of the audience. The thing she had been exposing others for is now what she had become, a perverted politician. Only she didn’t choose to be here, she was forced.
Taken away from the pride of her campaign, having toasted with her assistants only moments ago, Miranda now fights back her choking tears as she’s spanked on stage to the cheers of the crowd. It’s then that it finally hits her, a burning heat spread against her crotch. She couldn’t help it, whatever was happening was overtaking her thoughts, and Stan’s next spank forced something else from her lips, a whorish, lustful moan. He stopped, leaving her to wallow in the pathetic display she had been turned into, the audience now spitting horrific remarks towards her, goading her into submitting to their desires.
“Now, I know this must be a shock to some of you, but I’m afraid it’s true. It seems there’s only one candidate that’s clear of dirty secrets…”
With his bold declaration made, especially with how he had been treating her, Stan raises his arm in the air, followed swiftly by the roaring cheers of the crowd, solidifying himself as the running leader. Though he wasn’t finished, still wanting to degrade her more, Stan forces her to walk with him over to his own podium, taking something from inside and shoving her down against it.
“Don’t worry, I understand that a lot of you have pent-up resentment towards the woman who tricked you… so come and let it out!”
Feeling her hands suddenly bound together, Miranda tries to fight back, kicking her feet in an attempt to break free. In her struggles, a line begins forming behind her, Stan leaning down and practically spitting his words into her ear.
“Keep struggling and I’ll fuck your tight ass in front of everyone. Behave.”
Miranda hated how her body responded to his stern words, throbbing with pleasure at being spoken to this way, she obeys, letting him hold her down against it, presenting her ass to the crowd. One-by-one, they step up behind her and reel their hands back, giving her a painful understanding of how much they despised her now. Each moment dragged by agonizingly slow, feeling hundreds of strangers take their turn at spanking her pert butt, savoring her squeals as they passed by her. The worst part of it was how Miranda could feel her pussy aching for attention, dripping her arousal down her thighs as she stared up at Stan’s smug face.
With his desires sated, Stan waves off the line of people, waving them goodbye as he closes his speech off, Miranda still by his side. Throughout his departure from the event, he never let go of her, congratulated by staff, enjoying a drink with his sponsors, even as he walked to his car outside, no one batted an eye. Miranda obediently followed Stan through all of this, not realizing how she was heading back to his home until it was too late.