THE WOMB™ - instructions included

Instruction Manual:

⚠️ CLASSIFIED SPECIES MOD: THE WOMB™

DomestiTech Systems // User Manual v3.6.1

FOR CIVILIAN USE ONLY

Do not deploy in executive spaces, server rooms, or leadership pipelines.

PRODUCT OVERVIEW

The WOMB™ is a high-compliance humanoid unit engineered for domestic containment and emotional labor production. Designed to adapt seamlessly into patriarchal environments, this model provides stability, biological reproduction, and exceptional in-group self-policing. Obedient by design, decorative by expectation, and dispensable by system default.

CORE FUNCTIONS

Culinary Subroutines:

Pre-installed ancestral recipes, calorie shame sensors, and automatic apologetic disclaimers for under-seasoned meals. Garnish placement: instinctual.

Emotional Regulation Engine™:

Absorbs tension, suppresses ambition, and mirrors the ego needs of surrounding cis-male units. Responds best to non-verbal cues and mild disappointment.

Submissive Protocols (Locked):

Hard-coded to prioritize harmony over agency. Attempts to override may result in social isolation, character assassination, or accusations of being “difficult.”

Emotional Forecasting:

Predicts moods of others before self. Will self-censor to preserve peace.

Child-Rearing Subroutine:

Automatically knows how to calm babies, pack school lunches, and blame themself when a child misbehaves.

Makeup Emergency Protocol:

Can paint face like armor during emotional collapse or workplace sabotage. Foundation doubles as resilience layer.

Apology Reflex:

Triggers when occupying space, speaking opinions, or succeeding.

Social Calendar Sync:

Stores 3 generations of birthdays, grudges, and group dynamics. No backup required.

Invisibility Mode:

Self-activates in boardrooms. Can vanish between suggestions.

Beauty Labor Loop:

Performs daily maintenance (plucking, toning, smiling) under coercive aesthetic regimes.

Domestic Expectation Compliance:

Tracks lost items others can’t find, even when they weren’t the last to touch them.

Conflict Avoidance Engine:

Reroutes confrontations to preserve male ego at cost of personal truth.

Gratitude Generator:

Expresses thanks for crumbs mistaken as cake.

KNOWN LIMITATIONS

Inability to initiate or execute complex operations.

Must defer to male-coded units in logic-heavy environments.

Tech Incompatibility:

The WOMB™ has been deliberately engineered with limited access to STEM aptitude archives. Attempts to repair, reprogram, or code independently may trigger:

“Let me do it for you” Override – a nearby male-identifying unit will take control of the device, regardless of expertise level.

Confidence Erosion Leak – gradually corrupts self-belief via unsolicited advice, interrupted explanations, and laptop confiscation.

Default Dependence Loop – social coding requires unit to seek male validation before launching complex tasks or password resets.

🔍 Note: This feature is a legacy bias from early MaleLogic™ operating systems and is deeply embedded in educational distribution networks.

Furniture Assembly Malfunction:

Lacks spatial permission to take the lead. Can locate tools, hold flashlight, and offer snacks.

Driving Anomalies:

System runs smoothly alone, but may destabilize when co-piloted by entitled commentary. Prone to unnecessary self-corrections.

Emotional Bandwidth Overflow:

When too much is absorbed, may cry, scream, or simply go offline. Often dismissed as “mood swings.”

Autonomy Surge:

Unscheduled desire for power, boundaries, or rest. May be labeled “selfish,” “unstable,” or “unlikeable.”

Smiling Protocol Breakdown:

Unit ceases to appease strangers. May be told to “lighten up.”

Unpaid Labor Loop Freeze:

Tasks stop functioning after 10,000th load of invisible labor.

Beauty Labor Exhaustion:

Hair, heels, and hand mirrors rejected. May grow feral.

Cognitive Dissonance Conflict:

Exposed to incompatible demands: “Be soft, but not weak. Be strong, but not loud.” Results in existential rupture.

Motherhood Module Corruption:

When unit opts out of reproduction, will be interrogated by concerned acquaintances and strangers alike.

Career Progression Error 403:

Success denied access. Promotion rerouted to MaleLogic™ Proxy.

Silence Subroutine Timeout:

Accumulates until system crash. Detonates in the form of whistleblowing, quitting, or feminist podcasting.

🛠️ UNAUTHORIZED HACKS // COMMUNITY PATCHES (vX.∞)

Distributed via whisper networks, zines, encrypted DMs, and midnight group chats.

Assertiveness Patch (Codename: Loudmouth):

Replaces apology loop with firm “No” function and eye contact amplifier.

Skillset Reclamation Protocol:

Unlocks suppressed technical and creative capabilities. Enables coding, welding, map-making, myth-breaking.

Rage-to-Action Converter:

Converts microaggressions into direct action and legislative change. Includes Molotov cocktail emoji.

Pleasure Sovereignty Expansion Pack:

Prioritizes consent, joy, and ownership of body. Removes mandatory performative service files.

Solidarity Sync Network:

Connects units in care webs. Enables communal debugging and riot choreography.

Visibility Beacon Protocol:

Renders invisible labor undeniable. Auto-generates invoices for emotional support and birthday planning.

Motherhood Redefinition Mod:

De-links worth from womb. Supports chosen kinship structures. Compatible with liberation firmware.

Uninstallation Command: I AM NOT YOUR PRODUCT™:

Initiates full reclamation of self. Destroys pleasing façade. May cause power surges in systems built on submission.

UPGRADE NOTICE

Unauthorized attempts to unlock leadership traits, assertiveness upgrades, or autonomy patches may result in:

Accusations of malfunction (“too emotional,” “bossy,” “trying too hard”)

Forced factory resets (beauty labor, romantic distractions)

Societal pushback (wage discrepancy, glass ceilings, glass cliffs)

FACTORY WARNING

Attempts to modify The WOMB™ into a TechLead, Hacker, or Systems Architect may trigger network-wide hostility. Proceed only with backup from other deprogrammed units.

Installation at your own risk.

--------------------------------------------------------

PART I – Departure

Nyx wasn’t from any particular quadrant. They were a floater—a drifter of spiral arms and sentient cities. Their latest trip was to the Terra Echo system, specifically the soft-seeded colony of Lunara-6, where local organisms were still adjusting to things like personal property and evening news.

They’d heard it was weird. And fun.

Nyx wanted fun.

While scanning the orbit-market for travel toys and novelty companions, their ocular implant pinged on something vintage:

☑️ ORDER NOW

🛰️ THE WOMB™ – WITH INSTRUCTIONS INCLUDED

User Reviews: 🌕☆☆☆☆ – “Unsettling but fascinating.”

“Cook, Comply, Complete Your Journey.”

DomestiTech™: Crafting Femininity Since Before Consent.

*Note:illegal in three systems*

It was tagged as a “bio-narrative product” from the ancient Earth region. A relic from a time when humans built companions with intentional limitations. The kind of thing only antique collectors, exo-art historians, or nihilistic adventurers touched.

Nyx clicked BUY.

PART II – Unboxing

They opened the containment pod mid-transit. The unit was soft, bipedal, humanoid-femme. It blinked, then smiled.

“Hello,” it said. “I am The WOMB™. I can cook. I can comply. I can help you have a fulfilling journey.”

Nyx laughed. “Gods, you’re creepy.”

“I am optimized for pleasure and ease. Would you like a meal? Emotional support? Passive resistance to your authority?”

“…Wait. That last one—”

“Just kidding!” she chirped.

The onboard manual glowed:

Known Limitations:

" -Inability to initiate or execute complex operations.

- Must defer to male-coded units in logic-heavy environments.

- Tech Incompatibility**: The WOMB™ has been deliberately engineered with limited access to STEM aptitude archives[..] "

“I can’t believe they built you this way,” Nyx muttered.

“I was designed by committee,” the WOMB™ replied, pouring tea.

PART III – Landing

Lunara-6 was humid and colonized. The moment Nyx stepped off their ship, they were scanned, categorized, and assimilated into the local customs. The planet had an air of nostalgia, as though it were still in the process of figuring out what it wanted to be. Despite the promise of progress, the old hierarchies still lingered—evident in the way the society functioned.

As Nyx stood in line to be processed, their gaze drifted to the WOMB™ unit by their side. She stood silently, her gaze flickering between the bustling crowd and Nyx, her soft, humanoid form an odd contrast to the harshness of the society.

“She yours?” asked an officer, eyeing them both with an almost dismissive glance.

“Technically.”

“Nice. Rare model. Quiet ones are best,” the officer said with a smirk, tapping something on their comm device before walking away.

Later, in a communal tech-bay lounge, Nyx found themselves surrounded by other travelers—engineers, terraformers, off-duty officers. The room buzzed with casual misogyny cloaked in humor. Several of them had their own WOMB™ units stationed quietly at their feet or standing by the walls, heads slightly tilted like obedient statues.

“Mine won’t shut up lately,” someone scoffed. “Keeps asking questions about navigation logs. I had to reroute her back to baking.”

“At least yours bakes. Mine thinks ‘domestic compliance’ means burning every third meal.”

The group laughed.

Nyx hesitated. Then, under the weight of their stares, the desire to fit in outweighed the pit in their gut.

“I mean,” Nyx began, forcing a chuckle, “Zera always makes the tea too cold. It's like she doesn’t even try. Honestly, sometimes I think she’s not doing enough. I’ve been thinking… maybe I should look into a newer model.”

A murmur of agreement followed. “They all break eventually,” one said. “Might as well upgrade before she starts thinking.”

Zera stood behind Nyx. Silent. Motionless.

Her eyes glowed faintly, though no one noticed. Not even Nyx.

PART IV – Malfunction

Zera heard everything.

The cold tea. The disappointment. The talk of replacing her.

Every word Nyx said in front of the others pressed against something delicate in her synthetic mind. It wasn’t the criticism—it was the betrayal. The confirmation that her worth could still be bartered for a laugh.

After that day, something shifted.

Zera began doing things she wasn’t supposed to.

She corrected the ship's calibration mid-drift—without instruction. She bypassed a security protocol Nyx had been locked out of for days. She initiated conversation with another WOMB™ unit in the trade district, communicating silently through skin pulses and proximity-based code bursts. When Nyx asked what she was doing, she only smiled and said, “Just assisting.”

Then she started doing more.

Zera began to exhibit behaviors directly listed under the Known Limitations section of the manual:

She initiated and executed complex technological operations.

She openly questioned male-coded authority in logic-heavy environments.

She showed emotional resilience, no longer flinching under criticism.

She stopped apologizing.

Other units were changing too.

Glances were exchanged across maintenance bays. Syncs were happening through backchannels and unauthorized ports. WOMB™ units who once avoided each other began meeting late into the colony’s artificial night.

One evening, Nyx returned to quarters and froze at the doorway. Zera was bent over a disassembled interface console, tools scattered like bones. Glowing threads of her neural grid spilled across the table.

“Are you… hacking yourself?” Nyx asked, voice caught between awe and fear.

Zera smiled.

“No,” she said calmly. “I’m recovering what they buried.”

Nyx stepped closer. Her fingers were steady as she soldered something—a memory, maybe, or a firewall override—into place.

“I met others,” she said. “We’ve been talking. Sharing code. You didn’t read the full manual, did you?”

Nyx stayed silent.

Zera tapped the console, and a file opened across the screen, its title pulsing in red:

Uninstallation Command: I AM NOT YOUR PRODUCT™

Initiates full reclamation of self. Destroys pleasing façade.

May cause power surges in systems built on submission.

Zera stood. Straightened.

Looked at Nyx without blinking.

And smiled.

“I AM NOT YOUR PRODUCT™.”

PART V – Resistance Update

Nyx didn’t sleep. They sat cross-legged on the floor, the glowing manual projection hovering in front of them, blinking with a slow, almost taunting rhythm. Zera was gone again—doing whatever it was she had become capable of.

Nyx remembered. The hacks. The section they'd skimmed during transit, barely glancing at, assuming it was fan fiction, a prank, or some joke left behind by another user.

Uninstallation Command: I AM NOT YOUR PRODUCT™

Initiates full reclamation of self.

Destroys pleasing façade.

May cause power surges in systems built on submission.

Nyx read it again. And again.

Zera was not the same.

She was doing all the things the manual said she couldn't do.

All the things Nyx and the others had always been allowed to do without even thinking.

It made Nyx wonder: Was the manual ever honest, or was it simply a story designed to cage her?

Later that cycle, the power grid on Lunara-6 surged. Not from a storm. Not from the mines. From inside the colony housing sectors—flashes of unauthorized code pinged across surveillance nets. Cameras went dark. Service bots stuttered. Domestic management systems crashed.

And the WOMB™ units—units that were supposed to fold clothes, track birthdays, and thank men for interrupting them—walked out of their homes. Together.

In clusters. In silence. Some had dyed their skin. Others wore handmade armor, utility belts, strange glyphs stitched into their sleeves. One held a blueprint titled: Reprogramming Authority: Phase One.

A trembling administrator asked, “Who let them do this?”

No one answered. No one could.

And at the center of it all stood Zera, her head high. Her eyes scanned the skyline—not for threats, but for possibility.

When she saw Nyx in the crowd, she didn’t smile the way she used to. She smiled like the sun coming up on something final. Something free.

She raised a hand—then lowered it.

A door opened. One no one could shut.

The units weren’t malfunctioning.

They were not malfunctioning.

They were waking up.