The town of Harmony Vale sat nestled in a serene valley, its pastel-painted houses reflecting sunlight like pearls under an endless blue sky. Birds sang year-round, children laughed in immaculate parks, and neighbors greeted one another with wide, genuine smiles. It was a utopia, a place where anger, discontent, and bitterness didn’t seem to exist.
Everyone knew the truth: this perfection was carefully cultivated.
At the center of Harmony Vale stood the Equinox Chamber, a sleek, cylindrical building of glass and steel, and the heart of the town’s transformation process. Within its walls lay the Harmony Process, a procedure that reshaped its applicants in both body and mind.
It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t hidden. The volunteers came willingly, after years on the waiting list, drawn to the promise of a perfect life, Free of their worst flaws and imbued with kindness, patience, and beauty. They would still be themselves, but better.
“This is it,” said Claire, standing beside Ethan at the Chamber’s entrance. They were young, both in their mid-twenties, and both had waited nearly three years for their turn.
Claire glanced nervously at her reflection in the polished door. She brushed her hand through her chestnut hair, her eyes flicking to Ethan. “How do you think we’ll look? You think you’ll still recognize me?”
Ethan grinned, slipping his hand into hers. “Of course. You’ll still be Claire. You’ll just be… more Claire. Perfect Claire.”
That was the promise, after all. The Process didn’t erase memories or rewrite identities. People still loved the same things, had the same passions and talents.
But the Chamber reached deep into the mind and body, like a master sculptor sanding away sharp edges and imperfections: anger, stubbornness, jealousy, insecurity. Every anti-social behavior or intrusive thought smoothed away. The body, too, was perfected, healthier, fitter, a vision of natural beauty. And all of it consensual.
“You’re not nervous?” Claire asked.
Ethan hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course I am. But we’re doing this for us, right? You’ve said it yourself: no more stupid fights. No more self-doubt. We’ll be happy. Isn’t that what matters?”
She smiled softly and squeezed his hand. “Yeah. Happy.”
A guide greeted them in the Chamber’s lobby. She wore a lavender dress that matched her serene expression and spoke with the practiced calm of someone who had long shed the weight of discontent. Her name tag read Madeline.
“Welcome to your first day of Harmony,” Madeline said warmly. “You’ll enter the Chamber separately, but the results will speak for themselves. Remember, the Process only enhances what’s already there. You’ll feel lighter. Freer. It’s like meeting your best self, and you deserve that.”
Claire swallowed hard as Madeline led them down a gleaming hallway to a set of doors. Claire’s to the left, Ethan’s to the right.
“See you soon,” Ethan said softly, giving Claire’s hand one final squeeze.
Inside her room, Claire found the machine, a reclining chair beneath a halo of soft, golden light. Screens projected words around the room: peace, love, kindness, trust. She could hear faint music — a soothing hum that felt like a lullaby. Her nerves began to ease. She lay down and closed her eyes.
The machine purred to life. A voice, soft and warm, whispered inside her head.
“Claire Thompson. You have chosen Harmony.”
Colors swirled behind her eyelids, soft greens and blues, melting into one another. She felt a warmth spreading through her chest, a sense of deep release, as if someone were gently lifting heavy weights from her soul.
The voice continued. “We will nurture your kindness. We will soothe your anxieties. Your patience, your love, your joy. These will flourish. The burdens you carry, resentment, fear, anger will no longer trouble you. You will be free.”
For a moment, Claire thought of her flaws, the sharp words spoken in arguments, the way she let jealousy twist her stomach, the nights spent crying over her imperfections.
And then… they were gone. Like whispers carried away by the wind.
She felt herself smiling.
Hours later, Claire stood outside the Chamber with Ethan. They looked at each other in awe.
Claire’s features were softer now, her skin smooth and glowing, her posture poised yet relaxed. Ethan’s shoulders were broader, his face more symmetrical, his eyes clear and bright. And yet, they were undeniably themselves.
Ethan smiled at her, tears glistening in his eyes. “You’re beautiful.” Claire touched his cheek, a bubbling joy rising within her. She could feel the love she’d always had for him, only now it was unclouded.
Pure.
“So are you,” she said softly.
They walked hand-in-hand out of the Chamber, greeted by cheers from the town. Friends they hadn’t met yet waved to them from immaculate lawns. Somewhere in the distance, music played.
A plaque at the edge of the square caught Claire’s eye. It read:
“In Harmony Vale, we become who we were always meant to be.”
Claire breathed in the fragrant air of the valley. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel the heaviness of her flaws weighing her down. There were no dark whispers in her mind. No fear of the future.
She looked at Ethan and smiled.
“Welcome home,” he said.
And in that perfect town, under that perfect sky, Claire knew he was right.
Girls were made to be owned
You don't need to think
Let Men do that for you
I'm a feminist but crave deeply for my mind to be broken in. Like, don't just rape my body, rape my mind too. Everything that I do or enjoy is tainted by your presence. Of course, if you knock me up with your child, it becomes impossible for me to ever escape you. Every day as my belly swells, my brain fogs and grows ever independent on you. It's terrifying but it'd be so hot to do it to me.
There's a fun little hermeneutic I use for asks like these: whenever they start with "I'm a feminist, but I...", I mentally replace it with "I'm a feminist, so I..."
It always elucidates things. It always shows me why the little whore confessing her deepest shame to me is so desperately wet.
What do you think feminism is about, girl? It's about female liberation from male power. It's about examining structures of male power. It's about understanding how every society has always been, and still is, shaped by male power over women.
No wonder you crave having a man rape your body and mind, when you're constantly reminded how fragile and temporary the idea of your independence is. When all your feminist heroes are most remarkable for being rare exceptions: the few women in history who weren't just babymakers dependent on their men.
It's easier to put a feminist in her place, because she knows exactly what her place is - she's studied it, with a potent mix of fascination and anxiety. All it takes is a firm hand and a bare cock to give her the destiny she's always feared.
What makes you enjoy slave Leia so much? Merely a strong woman in a humiliating, revealing costume, or is there anything more to it?
Slave Leia fixed me.
I don't think I have a lot to say about it that isn't obvious, since I'm kinda stupid. But it's more than just a strong woman being put in a humiliating revealing costume.
First is the in universe concept (uh, I guess, spoilers for like a forty year old movie). It's not just that Leia is captured and put in the bikini. She's captured while in the process of thinking she can be strong and capable, that she can save someone. The outfit and voice changer she used while trying to rescue Han covered up her sex and her weakness. The contrast with that is immense. And when she's caught, people *laugh*. It's a big *joke*. It's not a serious she did a good try but jabba's crack team of security were better. It's like a surprise prank that they all pulled on her. Compare the defiance from when Vader first captures her on the blockade runner in EP IV, when she is strong in the face of capture after a battle well fought, to the face she makes when jabba catches her. No defiance. Just embarrassment, disgrace, weakness, confusion, stupid girl. Sorry I'm kinda masturbating while writing this.
And then she is stripped and put in a tacky bikini with arm bands and hair bands and a collar and leash. Fine. But she is exposed in front of Luke. The one who she was trying to be all tough girl equal around in EP IV and v. He is calm, composed, powerful, which just makes her weakness and stupidity more evident. Of course she couldn't save a man. But one could save her, at the price of seeing her stripped down to a waist and pair of tits.
And that's edge edge that's what brings this into the real world. It completely destroys Leia's character for the entire series. Ask any man who's watched star wars to describe the most iconic scene for Luke and it's idk his training with Yoda or his blowing up the death star or whatever. None of them will say him shirtless and weak and vulnerable in the bacta tank. But ask the same question about Leia and you will get one answer. If it had been her character from the start it wouldn't wreck me quite so much. But it isn't, it's two movies of.building her up as a badass strong independent woman and then haha no you stupid girls who thought this universe took you seriously this is how everyone sees you. The fact that it took away and overwrote and deleted and replaced oh god everything that she did in the eyes of the male audience the film was marketed.to edge is she's literally on a chain looking up at the guy she was pretending to be an equal to just like how I have to be lower and beneath and
And on top of all of that was Carrie's discomfort real world with how revealing the costume was to her professional colleagues it's literally wear this bra and skirt with no panties in front of people you pretend edge are workplace equals wet and pose while kneeling in it for the official promotion materials bark and inspire generations of girls to think that when they attend conventions about their hobbies they should dress up like subservient edge sluts and pose in huge undifferentiated groups for photos and anyways that's part of why I like slave Leia so much thanks for the ask.
It'll always happen the same way - a bitch will call herself a proud feminist until some loud, misogynist Man gets tired of her speaking and decides to show her why she's inferior and before you know it, the cunt who called herself a feminist is now the one who's crawling up to whatever Man degrades her the most so she can lick his asshole, suck on his balls, and drink his piss and cum right from the cock that made her a drooling sexdoll.
ex-dyke gender traitor, 23, sideblog of @serotoninslutsyndrome
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