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Description

“Even the most resilient relationships tend to fail shortly after one partner catches the shrinking virus.”

Jennifer read this introductory sentence to herself again and again, feeling a sickening numbness wash over her as she absorbed its meaning; the faint glow of her computer screen flickering against her contact lenses. The twenty-six year old housewife remained determined not to believe what she had just read on Facebook, but she feared it to be true nonetheless. Jennifer continued reading the post; scrolling down the page with her mouse, discovering that 20% of relationships dissolve within the first three months after a woman catches the virus - and that number increases to a whopping 95% when a man is the one who shrinks.

Jennifer had logged onto her computer to read uplifting stories about other similar couples, but she ended up finding the exact opposite. . . a fact which made her increasingly angry as she scrolled from post to post. None of her High School friends were able to make their relationships last for very long after being affected by the pandemic. Not one of them.

As for Jennifer, it had been two months since her husband of three years started shrinking, and three days since she felt her marriage buckling under its pressure. Mark’s shrinking was aggressive, losing approximately eight to ten inches of height every week as the couple desperately searched for home remedies and miracle ointments online. However, this desperation ended when the former real estate agent suddenly stopped shrinking altogether; an especially cruel reprieve while standing just under six inches tall.

Ironically, it seemed at first like their marriage was strengthening during the worst of Mark’s shrinking; a common phenomena touched upon in the Facebook post. Reportedly, this happens because the couple is too busy trying to find a solution to let annoyances or logistical concerns get in the way of their collective mission. But now, it was starting to sink in that Mark would always be a shrunken little man; hopelessly trapped in a different world from that of his wife, even when they were both standing in the same room.

Conflicts that normally would have led to arguments followed by passionate makeup sex, were transitioning into quiet apathy followed by Jennifer simply walking away from Mark; her colossal strides easily leaving the tiny man behind to bicker with himself. Jennifer could feel the love in her heart ebbing away with each passing day, her admiration and affection for her husband being replaced by pity and a mild disgust for his obvious helplessness. Eventually, the relatively giant woman would simply give up on her marriage and find herself a giant man; someone actually on her level.

But in the short term, she felt too guilty to move on.

Jennifer would waste entire days in nothing but her bathrobe, walking around the house like a zombie. . . doing nothing. On some days she would spend hours in the bedroom with her door closed; sometimes sleeping until noon and only coming out to get food and water for herself, completely neglecting the needs of the doll-sized man now quartered on their living-room table. During this period, she no longer performed chores, she no longer put on make-up, and on some days she didn’t even brush her teeth. For a while, all she did was sleep, cry, eat, and watch sad movies. Her passion was gone.

Meanwhile, Mark was feeling more passionate than ever, in more ways than one. His size kept him in a state of constant anger, self-pity, and frustration; longing for the touch of a woman whom he could no longer reach and who was openly disgusted by his frequent erotic requests. Jennifer had refused every romantic gesture and sexual advance Mark had made since the shrinking process ended; reverting him to his most desperate based instincts, such as openly masturbating in front of his apathetic wife during his infrequent feeding times. This behavior would mostly go ignored by the giantess as she nonchalantly placed a small bowl on the table next to him that was usually filled with rice, shredded chicken, or whatever various leftovers she had bothered to scrape from her own plate. Ultimately, Mark found himself in a sexless marriage with a depressed wife whom he could never leave; his freedom of movement depending on her consent and his very survival depending on her mood - a mood that was frequently too melancholy to tend to his physical and emotional needs.

One day, Mark had enough of his wife’s attitude. He finally snapped.

When Jennifer replaced his bowl this time, the little man jumped to his feet and angrily yelled up to the gargantuan woman who was once his wife.

“Hey! I have needs too! Do you think you’re the only one who is struggling with this?!”

Surprisingly, this managed to capture the giant’s attention for a moment as the enormous cloth belt of her pink terry robe swayed far above his head while she turned to look down.

“I don’t fucking ask for much! I’ve been asking you for some attention. . . some. . . some . . . sexual attention! For weeks! And you’ve ignored me, like a complete bitch!”

Jennifer glanced down at her coffee table with an expressionless detached gaze, barely regarding the comically tiny man who was exhibiting his impotent anger with an increasingly dramatic series of gesticulations.

“I’ve had enough, Jennifer! You’re going to hold up your end of the marriage, or I’ll. . .”

Before Mark could finish his sentence, Jennifer dropped her titanic form into a crouching position; a movement which happened so suddenly that it startled Mark to silence as she leaned forward towards him, her enormous visage hovering over his position as it darkened the natural light around him.

“Or you’ll what?” Jennifer calmly asked with a raspy quality that sent shivers up Mark’s spine due to the relative volume and tone of her booming voice.

“Or, I’ll. . . I’ll. . . “ Mark fumbled.

The giantess leaned further forward, pushing her face so far into the little man’s personal space that he took a step backwards; feeling overwhelmed by his wife’s enormous proportions. Jennifer had never gotten this close to him at his current size, and the whole experience was extremely jarring. Unlike the mental picture he painted during his masturbation sessions, the reality of his wife’s size was far more intimidating than erotic. He could see every pore, every imperfection on her leathery skin, and every wisp of hair matted across her upper lip and within her flexing opened nostrils.

“Go ahead and finish, tiny man. Or you’ll. . .what?” the giantess asked again with greater emphasis.

Mark winced at the question this time, partially out of fear and partially because she was so close that the tiny man could smell her foul breath, as if perhaps she hadn’t brushed her teeth in days.

“Well. . . I. . .I. . . “

“What are YOU going to do to ME, if I don’t do what you say? Tell me.” Jennifer asked so close that her nose almost touched Mark’s head; her hot breath ricocheting off the glass table’s surface and sticking to his perspiring skin like a pungent blanket.

“Uh. . . well. . . I. . . I guess. . . nothing.” Mark admitted with a bowed head.

“What was that?” Jennifer asked flatley.

“Nothing. I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can make you do. . . um. . . Ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought you said,” was the giant’s final retort as she rose back to her full height as quickly as she’d dropped down, her face zipping up and away from above the now trembling little man.

With that, the giantess tightened her robe and walked back to her bedroom, abruptly closing the door behind her.

Description

“Even the most resilient relationships tend to fail shortly after one partner catches the shrinking virus.”

Jennifer read this introductory sentence to herself again and again, feeling a sickening numbness wash over her as she absorbed its meaning; the faint glow of her computer screen flickering against her contact lenses. The twenty-six year old housewife remained determined not to believe what she had just read on Facebook, but she feared it to be true nonetheless. Jennifer continued reading the post; scrolling down the page with her mouse, discovering that 20% of relationships dissolve within the first three months after a woman catches the virus - and that number increases to a whopping 95% when a man is the one who shrinks.

Jennifer had logged onto her computer to read uplifting stories about other similar couples, but she ended up finding the exact opposite. . . a fact which made her increasingly angry as she scrolled from post to post. None of her High School friends were able to make their relationships last for very long after being affected by the pandemic. Not one of them.

As for Jennifer, it had been two months since her husband of three years started shrinking, and three days since she felt her marriage buckling under its pressure. Mark’s shrinking was aggressive, losing approximately eight to ten inches of height every week as the couple desperately searched for home remedies and miracle ointments online. However, this desperation ended when the former real estate agent suddenly stopped shrinking altogether; an especially cruel reprieve while standing just under six inches tall.

Ironically, it seemed at first like their marriage was strengthening during the worst of Mark’s shrinking; a common phenomena touched upon in the Facebook post. Reportedly, this happens because the couple is too busy trying to find a solution to let annoyances or logistical concerns get in the way of their collective mission. But now, it was starting to sink in that Mark would always be a shrunken little man; hopelessly trapped in a different world from that of his wife, even when they were both standing in the same room.

Conflicts that normally would have led to arguments followed by passionate makeup sex, were transitioning into quiet apathy followed by Jennifer simply walking away from Mark; her colossal strides easily leaving the tiny man behind to bicker with himself. Jennifer could feel the love in her heart ebbing away with each passing day, her admiration and affection for her husband being replaced by pity and a mild disgust for his obvious helplessness. Eventually, the relatively giant woman would simply give up on her marriage and find herself a giant man; someone actually on her level.

But in the short term, she felt too guilty to move on.

Jennifer would waste entire days in nothing but her bathrobe, walking around the house like a zombie. . . doing nothing. On some days she would spend hours in the bedroom with her door closed; sometimes sleeping until noon and only coming out to get food and water for herself, completely neglecting the needs of the doll-sized man now quartered on their living-room table. During this period, she no longer performed chores, she no longer put on make-up, and on some days she didn’t even brush her teeth. For a while, all she did was sleep, cry, eat, and watch sad movies. Her passion was gone.

Meanwhile, Mark was feeling more passionate than ever, in more ways than one. His size kept him in a state of constant anger, self-pity, and frustration; longing for the touch of a woman whom he could no longer reach and who was openly disgusted by his frequent erotic requests. Jennifer had refused every romantic gesture and sexual advance Mark had made since the shrinking process ended; reverting him to his most desperate based instincts, such as openly masturbating in front of his apathetic wife during his infrequent feeding times. This behavior would mostly go ignored by the giantess as she nonchalantly placed a small bowl on the table next to him that was usually filled with rice, shredded chicken, or whatever various leftovers she had bothered to scrape from her own plate. Ultimately, Mark found himself in a sexless marriage with a depressed wife whom he could never leave; his freedom of movement depending on her consent and his very survival depending on her mood - a mood that was frequently too melancholy to tend to his physical and emotional needs.

One day, Mark had enough of his wife’s attitude. He finally snapped.

When Jennifer replaced his bowl this time, the little man jumped to his feet and angrily yelled up to the gargantuan woman who was once his wife.

“Hey! I have needs too! Do you think you’re the only one who is struggling with this?!”

Surprisingly, this managed to capture the giant’s attention for a moment as the enormous cloth belt of her pink terry robe swayed far above his head while she turned to look down.

“I don’t fucking ask for much! I’ve been asking you for some attention. . . some. . . some . . . sexual attention! For weeks! And you’ve ignored me, like a complete bitch!”

Jennifer glanced down at her coffee table with an expressionless detached gaze, barely regarding the comically tiny man who was exhibiting his impotent anger with an increasingly dramatic series of gesticulations.

“I’ve had enough, Jennifer! You’re going to hold up your end of the marriage, or I’ll. . .”

Before Mark could finish his sentence, Jennifer dropped her titanic form into a crouching position; a movement which happened so suddenly that it startled Mark to silence as she leaned forward towards him, her enormous visage hovering over his position as it darkened the natural light around him.

“Or you’ll what?” Jennifer calmly asked with a raspy quality that sent shivers up Mark’s spine due to the relative volume and tone of her booming voice.

“Or, I’ll. . . I’ll. . . “ Mark fumbled.

The giantess leaned further forward, pushing her face so far into the little man’s personal space that he took a step backwards; feeling overwhelmed by his wife’s enormous proportions. Jennifer had never gotten this close to him at his current size, and the whole experience was extremely jarring. Unlike the mental picture he painted during his masturbation sessions, the reality of his wife’s size was far more intimidating than erotic. He could see every pore, every imperfection on her leathery skin, and every wisp of hair matted across her upper lip and within her flexing opened nostrils.

“Go ahead and finish, tiny man. Or you’ll. . .what?” the giantess asked again with greater emphasis.

Mark winced at the question this time, partially out of fear and partially because she was so close that the tiny man could smell her foul breath, as if perhaps she hadn’t brushed her teeth in days.

“Well. . . I. . .I. . . “

“What are YOU going to do to ME, if I don’t do what you say? Tell me.” Jennifer asked so close that her nose almost touched Mark’s head; her hot breath ricocheting off the glass table’s surface and sticking to his perspiring skin like a pungent blanket.

“Uh. . . well. . . I. . . I guess. . . nothing.” Mark admitted with a bowed head.

“What was that?” Jennifer asked flatley.

“Nothing. I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can make you do. . . um. . . Ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought you said,” was the giant’s final retort as she rose back to her full height as quickly as she’d dropped down, her face zipping up and away from above the now trembling little man.

With that, the giantess tightened her robe and walked back to her bedroom, abruptly closing the door behind her.