“You see?” Oscar complained, rubbing at the soreness on his arm, eyes swiveling between the TV in front of him and his wife, sitting by his side on the couch. “It’s been days, and my arm still hurts! If this vaccine was just about producing an immune response, why would it make my arm hurt?”
“It’s been a day,” his long-suffering wife Gail replied calmly, without taking her eyes off of the television. “And I don’t know, honey. I’m not a doctor.”
“I’ll tell you why.” Oscar immediately seized on the opportunity to expound one of his many, many such theories. “It’s not a vaccine, Gail. It’s bullshit! Well, all vaccines are bullshit, obviously, but this one is special. See, it’s a microchip. Connects you to that damn 5G network they keep spreading everywhere. They just don’t want us to have any choice in the matter.”
Gail sighed. “I don’t see why they’d want to do something like that,” she replied testily. She didn’t want Oscar to think she agreed with any of his conspiracy theorizing, but she didn’t want to argue, either. She’d learned that the best way out of a conversation like this was to let him burn himself out.
“Why would they want to fake the moon landings?” Oscar retorted. “It’s about control. Surveillance, too. With a chip in your arm, I bet they can hear everything you’re saying. No - everything you’re thinking! What if it taps into your nervous system? Did you ever think about that? Maybe it could alter your body. Maybe even your mind. I bet it’s some kind of crazy mind control network. They’ll have you hearing what everyone else is thinking, mark my words!”
“That sure would be crazy, honey.” Gail had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. How had her husband turned out like this?
Oscar hadn’t been a dyed-in-the-wool conspiracy nut when they’d first met, that was for sure. He’d been, in a word, normal. Gail didn’t think ‘normal’ was too much to ask for in a spouse. Better yet, he’d been charming. He was tall, he worked out regularly, and with his handsome, cropped hair, he was easy on the eyes, too. A classic, red-blooded American man. It had been more than enough for a girl like Gail. But then the pandemic had happened, and Oscar had buried himself in the seediest possible corners of Youtube, and now he couldn’t stop ranting about conspiracies like a madman. He’d even starting making videos himself. Gail despaired of it. Sighing was all she could seem to do.
Oscar was sighing too. Why wouldn’t his wife just listen to him? His theories made perfect sense. The proof was ironclad. All anyone had to do was be open-minded enough to listen. But unfortunately, it seemed like Gail was just as oblivious as all the rest of the sheeple out there. Oscar didn’t know what more he could say. She was pretty, lovely and kind. Oscar still fondly remembered how he’d lifted her in his arms and carried her across the threshold on their wedding day. But now they were drifting apart - and all because she was credulous to actually believe what the lying, mainstream media said about the virus and the pandemic. Oscar was at his wit’s end.
“Maybe I just won’t get the second dose,” he muttered, as much to himself as to her.
The comment, though, attracted Gail’s full attention. She rounded on Oscar, eyes filled with determination.
“Oh no,” she insisted, calmly but firmly. “We are getting that vaccine. I’m tired of not being able to go out for dinner, Oscar. Complain all you like, but we’re getting it.”
Normally, Oscar would have argued. This time, though, he simply withered as Gail stared him down and loomed over him… loomed over him? No, it couldn’t be. That didn’t make any sense at all. Oscar easily had six inches on her. It must have been something about how they were sitting. Oscar made his back a little straighter, but still couldn’t quite bring himself to defy his wife.
“Well… fine.” He sniffed, turning back to the TV. “After one dose, I’m sure we’re both already done for. But I’m telling you, Gail,” he added mutinously. “There’s something wrong with this vaccine. I’ve been feeling weird ever since I got it.”
“Like…” Oscar took his time answering, as he tried to put into words everything that he’d been feeling over the previous couple of days. “Like I’m getting weaker, or something. Look, I know what you’re going to say. But I swear, when I was bringing in the groceries this morning, my arms felt as sore as if I’d been lifting lead weights. Must be doing something to my hair, too. It keeps getting in my face.”
He reached up, idly toying with the unkempt, floppy mop that had grown on his head. When had it gotten so long? It felt like only yesterday… or maybe it had just been too long since he’d had a chance to get a haircut, Oscar thought to himself. Damn lockdowns.
“Huh,” Gail grunted. “Funny you should say that, actually. Ever since I got the vaccine, I’ve been feeling better than ever.”
Oscar narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Oh yeah?”
“Like, well, pretty strong, I guess,” Gail explained thoughtfully. “I feel like I could lift a car if I wanted to. Crazy, right? I just have all this energy. I’ve been telling myself I’d get back to the gym the moment I could, but I’m starting to feel like I don’t need to!”
Oscar looked her over, alarmed. It was difficult to tell in the dim light of evening, but he could have sworn she looked different. Taller. Broader too, somehow. The shoulders of her dress seemed tighter, like her body underneath had swelled with muscle. But… that was impossible, wasn’t it? Oscar’s mind was already racing with theories and possibilities, but all of them evaporated when Gail looked over at him and fixed him with a sultry look.
“In fact,” she said, her voice low and suggestive. “You know what I’ve got the energy for?”
Oscar immediately took her meaning, and was embarrassed when his voice turned halting and high-pitched. “B-b-but don’t you think we should t-talk about this?”
“I’m bored of talking,” Gail growled. She pushed Oscar back on the couch and immediately pounced on him, eyes wide.
Oscar was utterly shocked by his wife’s sudden burst of sexual aggression. It was totally unlike her, and he had no idea how to react. His body certainly did, though. There was an embarrassingly huge tent in his pants as he found himself sporting the hardest, neediest erection of his life. Oscar tried to tell himself it wasn’t so, but clearly, something about how forceful and powerful his wife seemed was driving him wild. He tried to force himself to think about anything except the thirsty look in her eyes as he squirmed away from her, until he was pressed up against one of the armrests.
“B-b-but!” Oscar pleaded again, even as his body accepted Gail’s advances. The moment she pressed herself against him, his legs wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. “D-d-don’t you think this could be a c-c-conspiracy to emasculate the American m-m-male?”
“No,” Gail replied firmly, and then put her lips to his neck, kissing and biting him fiercely. “I think I want you.”
At that, Oscar’s willpower gave out. He knew something was wrong. He knew it. He could barely hear his own thoughts over how loud his body was crying out for his wife’s touch. Gail felt like warmth and comfort and satiety, and it seemed effortless to let her take him in her strong, powerful arms - strong? powerful? since when? - and arrange him just how she wanted him, his pants torn off, his arms and legs spread wide to allow her to straddle him and ride him to her heart’s content.
Oscar had always been the one on top. Always. But not tonight.
The pleasure was so great, he forgot all about how embarrassing and emasculated he might otherwise have found it. He reached orgasm quickly, but that wasn’t enough for Gail. She seemed determined to keep riding him all night long, and even once he reached the limits of his stamina, she determined that a finger inserted into his ass was all it took to revive him for another round. It was all Oscar could do to cling to his wife as if his life depended on it.
The two of them were so caught up having sex, neither one of them noticed the news report that started playing on TV:
‘This just in! Reports are coming in of a new trend sweeping the nation, one that’s rapidly turning families on their heads! It seems the word of the day is feminization. Our reporters have found themselves flooded with hundreds if not thousands of accounts of men finding themselves a whole lot weaker, and a whole lot more inclined to switch roles in the bedroom. And speaking of switching roles, it’s not just the men who are changing. It seems women have been signing up for short haircuts and gym memberships in droves, as muscles, muscles, muscles are now ‘in’. Is this just a striking fashion trend, or something more? Keep watching to learn this anchor’s opinion!
One thing we do know, though, is that the government has officially denied rumors that these changes have anything to do with the new vaccine currently being distributed…’
“Hi, Youtube,” Oscar said urgently into his webcam, heart racing. “Now, please, send this video to as many people as you can. Friends, family, coworkers - anyone you can get a hold of before the censors at Google silence me.”
He knew, of course, that his pleas would likely fall on deaf ears, if they fell on any ears at all. There were plenty of other free-thinkers on Youtube, but with his scarcely two dozen subscribers, he probably wasn’t likely to reach many of them. But still, Oscar had decided, he had to try. He might not have much time left. And besides, this afternoon was one of the only times he’d had the house to himself.
“It’s been almost two weeks now since I was given the vaccine,” Oscar continued, trying to ignore how high-pitched and effeminate his voice sounded. “And since then, well, something’s been happening to me. I know it’s been happening to a lot of other people too. I’ve seen the reports in the media. But what they’re not telling you is: it’s the vaccine! It’s all the vaccine!”
Taking a deep breath, he reached up and started slowly panning his webcam down to show his body.
“You can look at my previous videos if you want proof. I’m not really a guy for fashion and following trends.” It was true. Most of Oscar’s clothes had been bought for him by Gail. “So believe me when I say, this isn’t out of choice. This has all happened to me in just a couple of weeks, and I’m telling you, the vaccine is to blame.”
Oscar found himself shifting in his chair with embarrassment as he finished panning the camera and presented his new body. The changes were dramatic, to say the least. The loss of height was the thing that bothered him the most. Oscar had been 6’2 ever since he was seventeen years old, but over the previous few days, he’d taken to measuring his height regularly, and that morning he had clocked in at a mere 5’9. In two weeks, he’d lost five inches.
But that was far from the end of it. He’d shrunk in more ways than one. Oscar’s well-built, muscular frame had simply melted away, leaving behind it a soft, slender and alarmingly weak body. The moment he’d noticed his muscles beginning to disappear, he’d thrown himself into home workouts, devoting hours to exercising with a set of dumbbells. It had made no difference, and now, he could barely lift them. He looked like a short, wimpy nerd, not like a guy who’d been on his high school’s football team. The only part of him that hadn’t shrunk were his hips, though Oscar almost wished they had. His hips, still wide and shapely, now matched his shoulders, giving him an entirely unmanly figure.
A dozen other, smaller changes were all conspiring to make him feel even more emasculated, and Oscar was keen to recount them all for his Youtube video. His hair, for one. It had been growing by the inch, and without any way of getting it cut, Oscar had been left with long, floppy hair that hung around his face in alarmingly pretty little curls. His face itself was another. Oscar was sure he had noticed his jawline softening, his cheeks becoming rounder, his facial hair all but vanishing, and his lips becoming pronounced and plump. He felt cold as well as weak, and nothing but his wife’s arms around him seemed to help. It was all so frustrating he could cry - and that was a change, too. Oscar couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but recently, his emotions had been all over the place.
This wasn’t natural. It couldn’t have been. The people needed to know the truth.
“I cannot emphasize enough that this is all because of the vaccine,” Oscar continued, rounding out his vivid description of what had happened to him. “There’s simply nothing else it could be! It has to be some kind of microchip - a software platform, tapped directly into our biology. Maybe even into our minds. I’m telling you, I keep hearing things. Feeling things. Other people’s thoughts. It’s that 5G network. Fellow truth-seekers, we need to make this stop! We need to make this-”
“Oh, honey!” came the siren’s song of Gail’s voice, drifting up the stairs “I’m home! Where are you?”
Oscar froze. She was home already. He’d been counting on having at least another few minutes. With his take ruined, Oscar hit ‘stop’ on his recording software and started making his way downstairs. He didn’t want his wife to see what he’d been doing. She’d probably think it was ridiculous.
Gail was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, a broad smile on her face. The sight of her sent a shiver down Oscar’s spine, and unfortunately, he couldn’t tell if it was horror or anticipation.
That was the part of the video he’d yet to reach: the part concerning his wife. She’d changed just as much as he had, albeit in the entirely opposite direction.
It was now Gail who stood at least six feet tall, and with a figure to match. She’d grown just as broad as Oscar had slender, with muscles that seemed to appear out of nowhere on her frame. Every part of her was now sculpted and strong, and somehow it just made her look more feminine than ever. She was an amazon; there was simply no other word for it. The sight of her took Oscar’s breath away.
Gail, unlike Oscar, was pleased with her transformation - or at least, he thought she was. It was a little hard to tell. Oscar had tried raising the subject with her, only to find his points and observations brushed aside with little more than an airy, dismissive gesture. It was as if, to her, getting the body of a demigoddess overnight was just as normal and unremarkable as putting on a few extra pounds over Christmas. Oscar was flabbergasted at how oblivious she seemed. Was the 5G network doing that to her, too? Or was she just that much of a brainwashed sheep?
As Oscar headed downstairs, though, it wasn’t her body that caught his eye. It was her hair. For as long as he’d known his wife, Gail had always worn her hair long, and always in her natural shade of dirty blond. Not anymore, it seemed. In fact, it couldn’t have been more different. Her hair had been cut aggressively short, with the sides of her head shaved altogether and the hair that remained trimmed short enough that it stuck up in a plucky, butch-looking tuft. Perhaps even more dramatically, it had been dyed a shade of neon pink so bright it probably stood out from miles away.
“G-Gail,” Oscar began uncertainly. “W-what did you… I mean, wow.”
“Oh, this?” Gail made a pleased little giggling noise, and reached up to preen herself. “I just felt like a change, you know? We are just getting out of lockdown, after all, thanks to that vaccine you were so hesitant about. It’s funny, though, it must have been in a magazine or something. All of the other ladies at the salon were getting short hair and bright dye too!”
“You…” Oscar licked his lips nervously. “You don’t think that’s a little… um… suspicious?”
“Suspicious?” Gail flashed him an exasperated look. “Oh, you! It’s just a hairstyle, silly. Besides, don’t you think it looks good on me?”
All of Oscar’s pressing retorts were silenced by the question, and he quickly found himself nodding vigorously. Whether he liked to admit it or not, it did look good on her. It looked incredible. In fact, everything about her did. As much as her transformation perturbed him, Oscar couldn’t deny that he felt more attracted to her than ever. He found her totally irresistible - as they kept proving, every single night. Clearly, the attraction was mutual.
“You look amazing, honey,” Oscar whined. His mouth was dry.
“Thank you!” Gail beamed at him, oblivious to his inner conflict. “Now, come down here. I have some things to show you.”
Oscar obeyed, trotting faithfully at his wife’s heels as she led him into their living room. Now, whenever they were standing next to each other, Oscar was painfully aware of their new height dynamic. He had to crane his neck just to look her in the face. It filled Oscar with a mix of emotions - and, all too often, left him squirming and blushing.
“I picked up some new clothes for you while you were out,” Gail said, riffling through a plastic shopping bag she’d brought in with her. “Yours must have all grown in the wash or something, they seem so big now! And you keep shivering, I just had to get you something warmer.”
“Oh?” Oscar replied, a little hopefully. She certainly wasn’t wrong about his clothes not fitting any longer. “Thank you, honey, I really appreciate-”
His words died in his throat once he saw what she’d bought for him.
It was a cat kigurumi.
“No,” Oscar said curtly, shaking his head from side to side. “No, no, no, no no.”
“Please?” Gail’s hands were clasped, and she was looking down at him with a big, eager smile on her face. “It’ll look so cute! And don’t you think it seems so warm and soft?”
“I… well…” Oscar tried not to look at the cat onesie, tried not to think about how soft and velvety its fur lining seemed to be. All his old shirts kept itching and scratching at him. “B-but I can’t wear something like that!”
“Why not?” Gail’s eyes were big, and utterly guileless. This wasn’t a trick. She was sincerely trying to be nice. That realization melted Oscar’s resolve.
“I… it’s just… it’s not my…” Oscar could already feel himself faltering. The kigurumi looked so damned comfortable. Its little cat ears were simply adorable. And perhaps most importantly, his tall, powerful, loving wife wanted him to wear it. “M-maybe I’ll try it on later,” he conceded, defeated.
Gail clapped her hands together giddily. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you, honey! Later is just fine. Perfect, actually. For right now, I had something else in mind anyway. Something that, well, doesn’t involve you wearing clothes.” She giggled.
Instantly, Oscar’s cheeks were aflame as he blushed. They were going to have sex again? He knew there was nothing natural about their recent arousal levels, but knowing they were the victim of a conspiracy didn’t change how desperately his body reacted to the prospect of his wife’s body pressed up against his - or on top of his, as it had more often been.
Gail, though, wasn’t undressing herself, or sweeping him up in her arms to bridal-carry him to their bed. Instead, she was reaching into her shopping bag again.
“I bought something for that, too,” she explained, as she started to unwrap one of her purchases. “I think you’re really going to love it.”
When Oscar saw what his wife had bought, his jaw dropped even harder than it had at the kigurumi. The sight of it raised all kinds of alarms in him, but none of his protests made it to his lips, and his knees were already going weak as he turned an even deeper shade of crimson.
It was a strap-on and a harness.
“Help me get this thing on!” Gail said excitedly, already fixing one of the straps around her hip. “I know it’s a little unconventional, at least for us, but well, we both know how much you love it when I use one of my fingers. I thought this would be even better.”
Oscar was so hot and turned on he was melting. He wanted to melt into his wife’s arms and let her do whatever she wanted to him. All thoughts of resistance and defiance were rendered incoherent at the sight of the thick, seven-inch, silicone shaft his wife was holding for him.
“What are you waiting for, kitty?” Gail asked with a wink, and Oscar almost moaned. “Get a move on. I can’t wait to see how this feels.”
As much as he would never have admitted out loud, neither could Oscar. The feminized boy sank to his knees, obediently helping his wife with her new strap-on, his body already crying out for it. Once he finished, he looked up at his tall, muscle-bound, amazonian wife, with her new short, dyed hair and a fake cock jutting out from between her legs, and he couldn’t help but start drooling.
Somehow, he knew he was about to have a whole lot less time for making Youtube videos.
‘Good evening, America! Tonight’s top story: new policies being rolled out at the top levels of government, aimed at redressing the balance between the genders. Discounted gym memberships and lycra for women? Free skirts and thigh-high socks for men? It’s all on the table, and more! Proponents say the new scheme reflects changing times, at a historical moment record numbers of men are taking as a chance to quit their jobs and become house-husbands. But what do you think? Stay tuned for our round-table discussion!’
‘And after that, features on the new mandatory vaccines law, as well as the new funding bill that will be putting 5G towers on every street corner…’
If Oscar had been paying attention to the TV, he might have noticed the news anchor’s newly slender, effeminate physique, his uncharacteristic long hair, or his whiny, high-pitched voice. But he didn’t. Oscar was far too distracted by the fact that he was splayed out on his own kitchen table, his incredibly tall, strong wife holding his legs apart as she ruthlessly ploughed his ass with a strap-on.
The two of them had been like that for hours, Gail’s strap slamming relentlessly in and out of his tight, needy ass. Her stamina was formidable, and matched only by her towering stature and perfect, toned body. Oscar’s stamina, on the other hand, was virtually non-existent. His body had given out long ago, leaving him helpless to do anything more than cling to Gail as tight as he could as she turned him into a weak, whimpering, moaning wreck. He’d long since given up telling himself he didn’t enjoy the treatment, though. Quite the opposite. In the week since she’d bought the strap-on, he’d grown so used to it that a day without it had him squirming and whining with need, and he no longer wanted to have sex any other way. Being his wife’s boytoy made him cum harder than he ever had in his life.
A small trail of drool escaped Oscar’s lips as his wife buried her strap all the way inside him with an almighty grunt, before slumping against the table in a motion that Oscar knew meant that she was finally satisfied. He was beyond satisfied. He could hardly move. His legs were jelly. He was in heaven.
And yet, he knew it was wrong. He knew it. Oscar knew that all this, however good it felt, was the result of a sinister conspiracy. And so, he had to keep fighting it. He had to.
That brief flicker of resolve immediately evaporated when Gail reached down to brush the emo bangs she’d persuaded him to get out of his hair and kissed his full, supple lips. Oscar immediately began to moan into her mouth, and meekly accepted her tongue into his. Even her kisses made him weak.
“Aww, you look all worn out, baby,” Gail cooed, slipping her strap out of Oscar’s ass and scooping him up into her arms. “Let me help you get to bed for a nap. Don’t worry, I bought you some of that new soy-based vegetarian food for dinner. No more meat to upset your sensitive stomach, OK?”
Oscar just nodded, clinging to his wife as she bridal carried him upstairs. She was now at least 6’5, meaning that given how he had shrunk, she was easily a foot taller than him. And given her incredible muscles, he looked like little more than a toy or a pet in her big, strong arms. It was just one emasculation after another, and the worst part was, Oscar couldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy them. The soy was the latest. Once upon a time, he would have complained that soy contained estrogen, and the push for soy-based vegetarian meals was nothing more or less than a deliberate plot to undermine the American family. Now, he was just grateful for how it made him feel.
By the time Gail was setting him down in bed, though, he had summoned up the willpower for one last, desperate attempt to get through to his wife. His previous efforts had all fallen on deaf ears, but this time, maybe. Maybe…
“H-hey, darling,” Oscar began, curling up under the blankets. “You… you must see that this isn’t normal, right? All of this, I mean. Don’t you remember how different things were just a couple of weeks ago? Before… before the vaccine?”
He was expecting Gail to roll her eyes, or perhaps even get upset with him. Instead, though, she just sighed a little, and smiled.
“Well of course, honey,” she replied, in measured tones. “Did you really think I hadn’t noticed any of this?” She gestured at herself, and then at Oscar.
Oscar blinked, stupefied. “Y-you know?” he asked dumbly.
Gail giggled. “What kind of woman wouldn’t notice when she grows a foot taller?”
“But… but… then… but…” Oscar was lost for words. She knew? Had she known all along? He had so many questions. He assumed that the vaccine had made her oblivious, somehow, but if it hadn’t, then what did that mean? Wasn’t she concerned? “W-why… why didn’t…”
“Why didn’t I say anything?” Gail finished. She shrugged. “I guess I just didn’t see any need to make a fuss, you know? No need to rock the boat. Anyway, I kind of liked it. Who wouldn’t want to be a little taller and stronger? And you look so cute now! What’s there to complain about? Times change, after all.”
Oscar’s mouth was hanging open. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could she be so blasé? Was she in on it? Was she one of them?
“But let me ask you this,” Gail continued, before Oscar could explode incredulously at her. “Are you actually unhappy with this? Is anyone?”
Oscar froze, dumbstruck by the sheer simplicity of the question. Were they unhappy? Of course they were! They had to be! Didn’t they? Oscar tried very hard not to think about his own experiences, or about how much pleasure and comfort he’d experienced over the previous weeks. As he did, something strange happened. His hard started to fill with ominous static that then crystallized into a dizzying mix of images, thoughts and feelings. It was as if Oscar was connected to every single person in the neighborhood around him, in some kind of mysterious, wireless network.
And they were all incredibly, incredibly happy.
“Isn’t it better this way?” Gail pressed. “We don’t argue any more! No more of that foolish, conspiracy talk. We just cuddle and have sex. It’s bliss. Our relationship has never been stronger.”
She was right, Oscar knew. She was right about that too.
Whichever way Oscar’s thoughts turned, they filled with images and thoughts of sex. Of femboys just like him being manhandled and railed by big, strong, amazonian women just like Gail. They were all utterly, thoughtlessly lost to throes of unbelievable pleasure. But it was more than just the sex. All of those men were being pampered, spoiled and adored, just like Oscar had been. What more could anyone ask for in a marriage?
What was there for anybody unhappy about?
In that moment, Oscar didn’t think about the 5G microchip in his arm, beaming all of these thoughts into his head. He just thought about the fact that, clearly, whatever conspiracy was at work had won. There was no going back from this. Even if Oscar could alert people, they probably wouldn’t want to go back. They’d be just like his wife. It was already a done deal. He was living in a society of femboys and amazons now. And as appalling as it might have once seemed to him, he liked it. He liked being a femboy. He liked it all.
“That’s what I thought,” Gail said eventually, nodding at the perplexed look on her husband’s face. “So, how about we go and get that second dose later?”
Oscar just nodded, docile. Secretly, it even felt a little good to give in. It felt like contentment.
“Great!” Gail said brightly, and hefted the strap-on she was still carrying. “But… how about before then, we go another round? I think I’ve got some of my energy back.”
Turning scarlet, Oscar nodded and got onto his hands and knees, ass presented to his wife. He started squirming as his wife donned the strap, already eager for more. And as the femboy waited, he realized that maybe the old saying had been right all along.
Maybe ignorance really was bliss.