(15) Two young Feminists enthralled

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Two Young Feminists Enthralled

The two young women sat across from each other in a bustling café, the heart of Svenda humming with life outside the large windows. It was the capital of Svendalia, a country on the brink of a revolution, and the cold light filtering into the room only sharpened the intensity of their conversation. Their faces gleamed with excitement, their voices filled with the electric charge of possibility.

“It’s genius, isn’t it?” Freja said, her hands gripping the mug of hot coffee as though holding on to something more than warmth. “Spikeguard is nothing short of a breakthrough. We’ve never had this kind of control, Solveig. Not just over their bodies, but over their minds. Everything starts in the mind, and now—now we can mold even that.”

Solveig leaned forward, her black hair spilling over her shoulders, her eyes wide with fervor. “Exactly. Just think about it, Freja—no more rapes, no more unwanted advances, no more fear. Men will have to stop their base impulses at the very root, or suffer the consequences. It’s as if we’ve finally harnessed their subconscious and turned it against them. This is more than a technological advancement—it’s a societal revolution!”

Freja’s smile was sharp, her eyes gleaming with conviction. “And it’s so simple. We no longer have to defend ourselves, no longer have to explain or justify. They can’t touch us, Solveig. Not without our permission. We control everything. This is more than just a shift in power—it’s an absolute inversion of the roles that have existed for centuries.”

Solveig, barely able to contain her excitement, placed her spoon down with a deliberate clink. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, as if the sheer enormity of the idea demanded reverence. “And think about what it means for us. For our freedom. For once, we can decide—freely—when, how, and if we want anything. The constant threat is gone, completely eradicated. And if they even dare to resist…” She paused, a small smile curling her lips. “The pain will remind them very quickly that resistance is futile.”

Freja raised an eyebrow, her tone almost teasing. “Resistance? What resistance? They have no choice anymore. They know that their only role now is to serve us. That’s the real revolution. We can train them—no, force them—to put our needs first. Their satisfaction now depends entirely on how well they please us.”

A low, satisfied laugh escaped Solveig. It was a laugh filled with the weight of generations of oppression, now finally breaking under the force of their collective will. “And the best part? They have no say in it. The state supports us. The ring is locked, and only we hold the key. The days of toxic masculinity are over. No man will ever rise above us again without being punished for it. It’s the ultimate justice.”

Freja leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting to the streets of Svenda outside, where men walked with their heads slightly lower, as if the new reality was already weighing on them. “It’s amazing how quickly everything has changed, isn’t it? We used to have to explain ourselves, justify every step we took. Now, it’s their turn to stay silent, to follow orders. Spikeguard is more than just a technological device. It’s the embodiment of control—our control. Finally, we’re free.”

Solveig nodded, her eyes shimmering with a mix of triumph and anticipation. “And this is just the beginning. I wonder how far we can take this.”

There was a brief pause, heavy with possibility. The world outside moved on, unaware of the tectonic shift happening in that café between two women who embodied the new era of Svendalia. Freja and Solveig weren’t just witnesses to the change—they were architects of it, riding the wave of a transformation that was sweeping through the country like wildfire.

Spikeguard wasn’t merely a piece of technology; it was a symbol, a manifestation of the shift in power dynamics. For centuries, women in Svendalia had lived in the shadows of men, constantly negotiating their safety, their autonomy, their very right to exist without being violated. But now, the tide had turned. No more fear. No more bargaining. No more second-guessing. The tables had been turned, and men now found themselves under the kind of scrutiny and control that women had endured for so long.

“And you know what’s even more beautiful?” Solveig’s voice was soft, almost conspiratorial. “They won’t even know how to function without us. Their minds, their bodies—they are all wired to seek pleasure, and now we control it. They’ll learn, Freja. They’ll learn that their happiness depends entirely on us. Their satisfaction will come from one thing alone: making us happy.”

Freja nodded, her gaze never leaving the bustling streets. “Exactly. And that’s the brilliance of Spikeguard. It teaches them to respect us, not through fear or anger, but through necessity. They’ll learn that they cannot survive without us. That’s the future we’re building here.”

It was more than a shift in laws, more than a restructuring of societal norms. This was the dawn of a new world, where men were no longer the masters of their own desires. Every thought, every impulse, every urge would now come with a price. They would be forced to think twice, to measure their actions, to understand that every step they took could lead to unbearable pain if it crossed the boundaries set by the women in their lives. It was, as Solveig had said, justice.

As the two women sat in that café, their voices filled with passion and certainty, the world outside seemed to move slower, as if it was already bowing to the new order. Spikeguard was more than just a device—it was a philosophy, a declaration that the future of Svendalia belonged to its women. And they were ready to claim it.

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