A universe where people under 30 are able to run for political office

David blinked a few times and glanced around, taking in his surroundings. He was in a small, dimly lit apartment, slumped in a worn-out armchair facing a flickering computer screen, and Fatima was nowhere to be found. A half-eaten pizza sat nearby on the desk. David groaned, his voice raspy and thick with what felt like sleep (or whatever state of consciousness he'd just emerged from). He squinted at the computer screen, a web page filled with text and strange diagrams glowing in the dim light. He tried his best to make sense of the words.

The title jumped out at him: "A Revolutionary Approach to Criminal Justice: Harnessing Feminine Energy for Societal Reformation."

"What the hell kind of hippie bullshit is this?" he replied.

There was a picture of a pretty woman in somewhat formal attire, generically talking to a crowd of people.

He skimmed the text (because who comes to blowjob universe to read?), his eyes widening as he absorbed the writer's bizarre proposal: a justice system where women used their mouths to rehabilitate male offenders.

"Fuck yeah," David breathed, his mind snapping to full attention. Finally, some rest and relaxation.

He scrolled down, devouring the author's detailed descriptions of various "punishment" options, ranging from simple kisses for spitting on the sidewalk, administered by certified female civilians, to make out sessions for anyone who tips a public trashcan over, to full-blown deepthroating for more dubious activities. His cock, which had been stirring sluggishly since he'd regained consciousness, stirred sluggishly no longer (and yet it is longer now). He wasn't much of a reader but these are the kind of passages he could get behind.

The political-pseudoscientific article made mention of "Praxites," the women trained in the correct usage and transfer of corrective energy (what David calls "cocksucking"). These women would be the Valkyries of his blue balls. The author claims that most women are up for becoming Praxites. And that voting for them will get it done.

David scrolled further, his pulse quickening as he encountered a section titled "Praxis in Action: Real-World Examples of Corrective Intimacy." It featured a series of images of corrective oral in action. David still didn't know what a "praxis" was but he knew how to look at pictures.

The first image showcased a mature redheaded woman. She was on her knees, confident in her justified whoredom, licking all the way up the underside of some guy's thick, engorged cock that towered over her face. She wore a blue Stone 2016 hat.

Next, a photo with an interesting bottom-up angle of a blonde woman in a pearl necklace with a man's cock buried deep in her throat. Her O-shaped lips wrapped around the base with his balls pressed against her chin. She was drooling from her lower lip, sloppy ropes dripping from the man's hairy balls and onto the camera lens. She was pressing her face into this guy enough to distend her throat.

David would be jacking off if he hadn't dedicated his afterlife to only cumming in and on women going forward. The next image was a point-of-view shot. A cock was being serviced by two stunning waitresses. They wore sun visors with a logo featuring a rooster with flames shooting out from behind it, read "Cock-A-Doodle-Doo Diner". One girl had the tip of his dong nestled between her pretty lips. She looked like a nice, humble lady who wouldn't be taking this picture back where he's from, at least not in the middle of this very restaurant. The look on her face indicated she was passionate about showing how these corrective measures work. The other girl coming in from the side had her lips sandwiching the side of his shaft, getting her spit all over it. David couldn't tell if the restaurant and the presidential candidate were on the same page about this.

The final image stopped David dead in his tracks. It was a close-up of a woman's face, barely visible as it was drenched in a mask of utter depravity. Her head was hanging upside down over the edge of a table, her hair a tangled mess everything glazed in saliva. Spit bubbles clung to her chin, her nostrils, even her eyelashes. She looked like she'd just emerged from a hurricane of her own mucus, brought on by equally messy cock hovering over her, yet there was a sense of unwavering purpose that belied the chaos painted across her nastied face. All for the purpose of helping men get on the right track.

The caption below the image read: "Democratic Candidate Amelia Stone, demonstrating corrective oral." Damn, this woman wanted to get elected bad, David thought. He had never visited a politician's campaign website before, but he felt like this would probably top anyone else's.

David stared at the photo, his cock throbbing against its fabric sleeping chambers. This Amelia Stone, whoever she was, was a woman after his own heart. A woman who understood the true power of a good blowjob. She didn't seem so bad for a politician, even if her justifications for her corrective policy are founded on flawed logic. He sure as sin wasn't going to Tweet at her the facts of sucking guys' dicks for their misdeeds.

"A vote for Amelia Stone is a vote for a safer country," a banner at the bottom of the webpage declared.

"Sure, lady," David muttered, his voice husky with political conviction. These voters better have voted for this delusional slut, he thought.