Today marks your 20th birthday, a milestone that comes with an extraordinary gift: a male of your own. Your mother, the Queen of Herland, is brimming with excitement as she prepares to present you with this new possession.

“Every woman should have a man at the end of her leash,” she sweetly insists. “It will elevate your status and enhance your image.”

But the thought of owning another person, particularly a man, sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve never really interacted with a male, aside from the Queen’s ever-polite butler, Jonathan, and the guards who patrol the castle’s grounds. Their towering figures and lean muscle were foreign to you, mere shadows of the men you’d heard about during your lessons.

Ever since the cataclysm of the ‘Grim War’ four decades ago, men have been in serious decline—most of those who fought now gone, nearly to the point of extinction due to the political chaos that tore them apart.

“Men brought destruction upon themselves,” your mentor, Darla, often told you. “This proves they’re incapable of leadership. The world is safer when they are relegated to submissive roles.”

Darla had lived through that dark time, regaling you with tales of the injustices women endured long before the male population began to shrink. Life, as she described, had never seemed brighter.

But is a world governed by men truly so horrific? Her words nearly convinced you to reconsider owning a male altogether. Were all men like the tyrants of old?

It’s been centuries since the war, and men now exist primarily as laborers—doing the heavy lifting that noblewomen refuse to acknowledge. Their education is limited, their freedom nonexistent. A display of aggression leads to severe consequences, and any harm they cause to a woman results in severe punishment.

This is the essence of Herland’s laws, teaching that compliance and respect are vital for men. Yet, whispers of rebellion stir on the outskirts of society—rumors that a faction of men plots to rise against the matriarchy. It’s enough to send a ripple of fear through you, but the Queen reassures the populace that these disruptions are manageable. This particular gift for you, she hints, might even be a runaway.

As a shiver runs down your spine at the thought, you hardly have time to ponder, for the throne room door bursts open. Three guards file in, dragging a man with a sack over his head, his arms shackled tightly behind his back.

They drop him roughly at your feet, and he groans like a wounded animal, breathing heavily as if ready to leap at any moment. The guards disclose that he was captured alongside five others, allegedly a rebel—a dangerous title in a land where conformity is gold.

They handled him with severity, kicking the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel before you. With a swift motion, they yank the sack from his head. Blood trickles from his lip and nose, and his eyes—wild and defiant—lock onto yours, filled with a fierce disdain that makes your heart race.

Your mother steps forward, authority radiating from her as she stands beside you. “You will look your owner in the eye and acknowledge her, slave.” Her voice is as unyielding as the sword forged from the strongest steel.

The man scoffs, baring his teeth, determination etched across his face. “I will never submit—no one owns me. Especially not your corrupted kind!” His words drip with contempt, but they earn him a swift rebuke from a guard, warning him that defiance won’t be tolerated.

“Take care of him,” the Queen commands, her voice a steel blade slicing through tension. The young man struggles, his protests echoing around the room, but soon his resistance is crushed beneath their unforgiving grip as they drag him away.

You feel a knot of anxiety twist within you. The Queen must notice your troubled expression, and she leans closer, offering reassurance. “He will be… perfect, my dear. Just wait.”

Can he truly be tamed? A part of you hopes fiercely that everyone is right, and he might somehow change… for your sake.