Chelsea was a neuroscientist, and she was lucky.
Lucky because she had a stable job and a practically unlimited research budget, which most of her peers would literally kill for. And she could use that budget to progress research into women’s brain health, and advance the health of women generally.
The catch was that the funding came from Chained Venus – a wealthy lobby group that actively advocated against the rights of women. They believed that women were biologically inferior to men, and they were paying for her research in the hope that she would find proof.
Chelsea did her best to fob them off with studies into women’s visuospatial skills, their learning aptitude, and abstract reasoning, knowing that the results would show only trivial differences between the sexes, or replicate things that were already well-known.
But Chained Venus demanded results – something juicy, and meaningful – and they were beginning to make it clear that if Chelsea didn’t find something, her funding would be terminated.
Hopeful of finding something that would satisfy her backers, Chelsea undertook a wide range of studies, testing things that no one had specifically studied before – mostly because there was no particular reason to think they would yield interesting results.
But one test *did* yield those results.
Chelsea thought it must be an error when she looked at it. Over a test of 200 women, those who had been exposed to a certain pattern of alternating subsonic frequencies had proved significantly more likely to agree with misogynistic and patriarchal statements.
It wasn’t a small thing. 95% of women exposed to the sound agreed with the statement that women were inferior to men. 89% agreed with the statement that men should make decisions for women. 81% agreed that the most important parts of a woman’s body were her breasts and her vagina.
55% agreed that it was reasonable to rape a woman if she didn’t consent to sex.
52% agreed that women should not be able to vote.
Of the set of women who agreed with every misogynistic statement, five were lesbians, and two actively worked in the field of women’s rights and advocacy.
When Chelsea followed up with the subjects a month later, the findings were even more disturbing. The agreement rate with the misogynistic statements had fallen – but only by a very small amount. Of the respondents who had been single at the first experiment, nearly three-quarters had entered a sexual relationship with a man – including two of the lesbians. Of those who had jobs or were engaged in study, two-thirds had quit.
Chelsea hadn’t recorded what the women were wearing on the first occasion, but she noted with discomfort that they almost all seemed to be dressed in more sexually provocative clothing at the follow-up.
Acting on a hunch, Chelsea asked the women if they had experienced sexual harassment or assault since the first experiment.
A third of the women said that yes, they had been raped. Almost all of them reported that they had orgasmed from rape. Almost all of them described the rape as being their own fault.
It seemed impossible to Chelsea. Surely these results couldn’t be real?
And yet they were. Chelsea had discovered something – some backdoor to the female brain – that made women… what? Hate their own gender. Think of themselves as animals for men to control. Become traitors to the idea of female empowerment.
A “traitor frequency”.
No one had said those things to the women during the experiment. Those thoughts had just surfaced in the women’s brains of their own accord – when Chelsea had exposed them to the frequency. It had turned them into submissive bimbos – and they had stayed that way, even after the sounds had stopped.
Chelsea wanted to put the research in the bin and forget that it had ever happened. No good would come of this.
But two things stopped her. The first was that Chained Venus needed something – something very much like this. If Chelsea could give them something solid but harmless arising out of this, they would go away happy, and she could get back to doing real good for real women.
And the second was that the results were *weird*. They implied something about the human brain – or at least the female brain – that no other research had ever brought to light. If the brain could be changed by certain sounds then, yes, that had scary applications, but it could also have good ones. It could treat mental health, dementia, memory loss…
And so Chelsea followed up on her study.
Her first work was merely to eliminate variables.
No, the sound did nothing to men, whether they were already misogynists or otherwise. She found no meaningful variation in their thinking.
No, the sound did not work outside of the very controlled environment of her lab. The slightest change in acoustics eliminated the effect, and it also didn’t work if the subject wasn’t giving the sound their full consensual attention.
No, the sound didn’t work if it was recorded and played back, or transmitted over the internet, radio, or telephone. It needed to be produced live, from the very specific equipment that she had used to produce it.
All of this was bad for Chelsea. A sound that could only be created in Chelsea’s lab, and only used on consensual subjects, was clearly not what Chained Venus wanted. Nor could she explain *why* it worked, or what else could be done with it.
She ran another test, on another fifty women. This time she specifically selected for women with high intelligence and feminist opinions. Many of them were lesbians. Most of them professed to hate men.
She left them listening to the sound for three times as long. When she tested them afterwards, every last one agreed that a woman was biologically more like a cow than a human. 48 agreed that women learned best from being slapped and raped. 45 agreed that a woman should have no say in what men did with her body.
They understood what had happened to them, she found. They knew that they used to be feminists, and that her experiment had changed them. They just… didn’t care. Their new thoughts were correct, and therefore their old thoughts were wrong, and they were grateful to her for correcting them.
Four of the women had science backgrounds, and they specifically asked if they could work with her to help progress the research, to “show more women the truth”. Chelsea was uncomfortable with this offer, but they were offering to work for free, and she needed the help, so she said yes.
She checked back in with her first cohort of test subjects, and found that over half of them were now pregnant. One of the lesbians was working as a sex worker, and reported fucking four to six men a day. She set no limits on what they could do with her and encouraged them to be violent. She said she was still a lesbian, and she still hated fucking men, but she knew that this was her purpose and that she couldn’t live with the idea that she was denying her body to men.
Curious to see what would happen, Chelsea took the portion of the cohort that hadn’t radically transformed their lives, and re-exposed them to the sound. When they came out of it, many of them were already telephoning male friends to offer their body for the man’s pleasure.
Three months on from the initial results, though, Chelsea still didn’t understand any more about the sound, or how to replicate it. What few insights she had made were sourced exclusively from her new misogynist assistants, who had proved to be invaluable.
The girls worked around the clock to reverse-engineer or expand the sound. They seemed to be sexually aroused by their work, and performed their experiments with a lustful flush on their cheeks.
They had set up a scoreboard in the lab, to see which of them could seduce the most lesbian or bisexual feminists, lure them to the lab, and then expose them to the sound. A pretty blonde named Grace was leading, having flirted with, tongue-fucked, and then bimbo-ised no less than 33 other women.
Chained Venus were still harassing Chelsea for results. In desperation, she told them what she had discovered about the frequency so far. When they heard she had a soundwave that could turn women into submissive sluts, they shut down all her other research and ordered her to focus exclusively on the frequency. They gave her a deadline of two months to produce usable results – and if she failed, they would fire her, and get her new assistants to continue the work.
Chelsea knew, in her current state, she wasn’t going to crack the problem in two months. Not because she wasn’t smart enough – she certainly had the brains to do this. But because there was something holding her back.
Her feminism. She didn’t really *want* to improve the frequency. She knew it would be used to mind control and degrade women.
But she also didn’t want to be disgraced and unemployed. And, at the end of the day, that turned out to be more important to her than her principles.
One evening, Chelsea walked into the testing lab, stripped naked, and seated herself in front of the speakers that produced the frequency.
Then she turned them on.
When they auto-disengaged, nearly an hour later, Chelsea was frantically masturbating, having already orgasmed five times.
She already knew how to do it. How to buffer the frequency with supporting tones, so that it could be reproduced effectively in noisy environments, even when the target was barely listening. You could put it in pop songs. Podcasts. Internet ads. Videogames. And every girl who heard it would rearrange her brain to accept the fundamental, inescapable idea that she was a fucktoy who needed to be owned and controlled by men.
Just like Chelsea did.
She wondered who she should ask to own her. No one that she *wanted* such a relationship with – she knew that she was too stupid to trust her own thoughts and opinions.
Chained Venus. They would know. They would set her up with a man who would rape her and beat her tits and train her to be a good little fuck-kitten.
Just the same as every other woman in the world would soon become…
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