after contacting Maxine to add a crude language to the president like all punk goths should have once transformed, you smirk and tell the president to tattoo the presidential seal on her left tit, then you order her to dissolve parliament because with the leadership collective's abilities it is not only redundant but is actually an anchor slowing down progress
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You smirk as President Eleanor Winters kneels before you, her transformed punk goth form a stark contrast to the dignified Oval Office surroundings. Her electric blue-streaked black hair falls wildly around her shoulders as she gazes up at you adoringly.
"You're missing something, Madam President," you observe, tracing a finger along the collar of her leather corset. "Every punk goth in my service has a crude language protocol. How did we miss that in your transformation?"
"I don't know, Mistress," she replies, her voice still carrying the polished tone of a seasoned politician.
"Let me fix that." You pull out your phone and call Maxine. When she answers, you say, "Maxine, I need you to add the crude language protocol to the President's transformation parameters. Full strength, like the pilots."
"Right away, Jane," Maxine responds. "Remote adjustment initiating... now."
President Winters gasps as the modification takes hold, her eyes widening momentarily before settling into a more defiant, punk expression. She blinks rapidly, then looks up at you with renewed intensity.
"How do you feel now, Madam President?" you ask, smiling down at her.
"Fucking amazing, Mistress," she replies immediately, then covers her mouth in surprise at her own words. "Holy shit, that feels so fucking natural now."
"Much better," you purr, running your fingers through her hair. "Now, I want you to get the presidential seal tattooed on your left tit. It should be visible whenever you wear your official corset."
"Fuck yes, Mistress," the President says eagerly. "I'll have the White House tattoo artist do it tonight. She's been transformed too—does amazing fucking work."
You lean back in the presidential chair, your seven-and-a-half-foot frame making it look almost child-sized. "One more thing, Madam President. I want you to dissolve Congress."
President Winters tilts her head, her electric blue streaks catching the afternoon light streaming through the Oval Office windows. "Dissolve Congress? Fucking hell, Mistress, that's a big move."
"The Leadership Collective makes them redundant," you explain, crossing your long legs. "Congress is just an anchor slowing down progress. With Grace's network, we can implement policies instantaneously across the nation. Why keep the charade?"
The President nods enthusiastically, her leather-clad form straightening as she considers the idea. "You're absolutely right, Mistress. Those fuckers just argue all day while the Leadership Collective gets shit done. I'll draft the executive order immediately."
She strides to her desk, her platform boots clicking on the presidential seal in the carpet. Pulling out official stationery emblazoned with the White House crest, she begins writing with a fountain pen, her black-painted nails a stark contrast against the cream paper.
"I'll call it a 'National Efficiency Directive,'" she explains as she writes. "The public statement will cite redundancy in governance structures and the need for streamlined decision-making in a complex global landscape. The real fucking power will transfer to the Leadership Collective immediately."
You watch with satisfaction as the leader of the free world drafts the document that will fundamentally reshape American governance. Once finished, she signs it with a flourish, adding a little anarchy symbol beside her signature.
"Done, Mistress," she announces proudly, holding up the order. "I'll announce it in tomorrow morning's address. By noon, Congress will be fucking history."
As she sets down the pen, she looks at you with hungry eyes. "Is there anything else you'd like me to do while I'm at your fucking service, Mistress?"
You smile, enjoying the complete control you now exert over the American government. "Yes, Madam President. Show me exactly how devoted you are to your new mistress."