Chapter 5
The next few weeks passed by with a strange semblance of normalcy, despite the obviously visible nature of the slow changes that were beginning to take place. Little by little, day by day, Warren was getting shorter, and it wasn’t just his stature itself that was shrinking. Before he had caught the Whipple Virus, he had only been 5’6 and around 130 pounds, quite small for a man by any conventional standards. But now, not only was he shrinking off and on, around a quarter of an inch a day, but he was also getting skinnier and skinnier. His bones, already visible in the joints of his wrists and ankles, became more pronounced under his skin as the fat and muscle mass that he had began to slowly melt away.
Like his height, his weight did not diminish with any kind of marked regularity. Some days he lost almost 3 whole pounds…and other days he didn’t seem to lose any weight at all. It was all so surreal, so oddly disorienting, that Irina’s daily measurements of his height and weight (per Sarah’s recommendations) took on a kind of curious, almost humorous regularity, which in a way made up for the strange uncertainty that hung in the air. Both of them were struggling with their own internal feelings, but for the moment, both Irina and Warren were determined to cloister them away inside, not letting them out into the danger of the open.
But even though the specter of the Whipple Virus seemed to loom over everything in the background, Warren had taken it upon himself to ensure that everything else more less functioned normally. Yes, Irina was his new housekeeper, so that was a change, and yes, he had been diagnosed with a new and frightening virus that was sweeping the globe, but everything else was working the same. He had made sure that he had communicated his expectations to Irina about her level of involvement in his life, and…well, he was getting treatment for the virus.
Everything else proceeded along with a delightful kind of normality. Warren spent his days watching his favorite shows, playing video games here and there, and otherwise living the secluded, reclusive life he had been living before. Irina moved about the house, making sure everything was spic-and-span, tackling large cleaning projects by the day, and respecting Warren’s wishes that she not be too overprotective of him. Everything was proceeding along at a slow and steady pace, and the two of them coexisted under the semblance of balance and courtesy.
As the days turned into weeks, however, neither one of them could ignore what was happening. With Warren, it started with what he was watching on TV. One morning, he couldn’t help but notice, about an hour into watching his go-to news program, that none of the news anchors who had been speaking had been men. And just as he had noticed this, he was hit over the head with the realization that the women who were on camera had…larger assets than Warren had noticed before. And it wasn’t just the anchors — the side reporters, the women who were being interviewed…everyone just looked…bigger, curvier, and more heavily endowed. He had felt his brow crease on its own accord as he made this discovery, just as he felt his cock awaken in his pajamas. He got up from his lounging couch and peered closer at the TV. Was this all really happening? Were Julie Winters’s breasts really…that much bigger!?
“I’m Julia Winters,” came the crisp, clean, and slightly husky voice of the lead news anchor, “And now for today’s top story: the Whipple Virus has now left no continent untouched, with the first case being reported at an international research facility near the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica…”
Warren rubbed his eyes and looked closer. There wasn’t any doubt: that red dress that she was wearing was being pushed to the absolute limits by those mammoth breasts. She hadn’t had those two weeks ago…surely he would have noticed! How had he not noticed until now!? And it wasn’t just her breasts — her bare arms and shoulders looked rounder, fuller, and more robust, all in an alluringly feminine way, to the point where when Warren was staring at her body, it sucked nearly all his attention away, and he could barely hear what she was saying.
“We now go to Aly Singleton for more on the social fallout from the virus’s spread…Aly?”
Warren’s attention snapped away from the news anchor’s body — he felt himself inhaling in expectation as his eyes widened slightly. Aly Singleton had been giving him his local news for the past year or so, to the point where Warren subconsciously thought of her as a trusted, loyal friend who had his back. He was holding his breath to wait and see if she looked any different. Julie Winters was a little older, in her 40’s, with brunette hair…an undeniably matriarchal type of figure. Aly Singleton was in her mid-20’s, with a fresh, round face…and blond. Warren had a little crush on her. Suddenly, the image of that huge, ferocious nurse, Sarah…flashed in his mind…her hungry, honing green eyes…and how effortlessly she had dominated him with her huge body. He had been trying to push that young woman out of his mind ever since she had strode into that exam room. But at every opportunity, she came pushing her way back in. She was blond too.
But Aly Singleton was onscreen now, and Warren’s mouth dropped open. He could only see her from the waist up, but that was all he needed to see. Her breasts were huge, so much so that they almost touched the table. Just like Julia Winters, she was wearing a dress that showed off her arms and shoulders, which were undeniably larger and fuller than Warren had remembered them being before. And her face…Warren had always been attracted to her, but now he was realizing that something had changed there as well. Her cheeks were fresher…rounder…even more attractive. And her features looked somehow sharper and more enticing. Those blue eyes of hers too…they looked larger and even more deep-set, seeming to look through the screen straight into Warren’s mind with an almost-coquettish confidence. She opened her mouth to speak, and he could tell that her lips were fuller too.
“Well Julie, with the world now in the grips of this virus for a couple weeks now, things are beginning to look a little bit different. You don’t see unaccompanied men on the street much anymore, and if you do, let me just tell everyone listening that they are encouraged, by the Centers for Disease Control, to call the hotline listed below here. It’s important that we band together to stem the spread of this virus, and that starts by pouring our resources into the most pressing problems, and unaccompanied men, especially if they’re confused and in the streets, is one of the biggest issues we’re having right now.”
“Because they’re helpless against the Whipple Virus’s contagion, right?” asked Julie Winters.
“Precisely Julie,” replied Aly Singleton, swiftly nodding her blond head. “Men who don’t have the benefit of a caretaking female are most at risk for the worst scourges of this virus. Without treatment, rapid shrinking, accompanied by sudden-onset weakness and muscular degeneration, can strike within a matter of days. We’ve even received reports of previously-healthy men shrinking two, even three feet, and losing over two-thirds of their body weight, within days of the initial infection.”
“Goodness, Aly,” said Julie Winters, shaking her head, “That’s awful.”
“This needs to be taken seriously,” continued Aly Singleton, turning to look straight back into the camera. “So please, everyone, spread the word and call the hotline. And don’t let the men try and talk their way out of it, claiming that they’re immune to infection, or that the virus doesn’t even exist. We need to fight this misinformation whenever we encounter it. And Julie, let me also just say, we’re hearing about new symptoms of this virus, serious ones, and some of them aren’t strictly physical. The psychological aspects of —”
“Hi Warren!” came Irina’s voice, from around the semi-cracked door, suddenly snapping him out of his engrossed, horrified reverie.
“Oh! Ir-Irina!” exclaimed Warren, stumbling back a little from the huge TV on his wall. He felt like he had been caught doing something private, and he wasn’t able to keep himself from blushing with embarrassment. He fumbled around, trying to find the remote to turn the volume down.
“I’m sorry if I startled you,” Irina said kindly, still just poking her head through the door without actually walking into the room. “I didn’t want to interrupt what you were doing, but I was just cleaning your bathroom and I noticed…well, this.”
Irina pushed the door all the way open now, and Warren took an instinctive step backwards. He wasn’t sure how much of it was his mind playing tricks on him, but every time he saw his housekeeper, she looked bigger. This morning was no different. Her breasts looked bigger than ever…were they F-cups now!? Surely she had gone up a size…or maybe even two?? Warren tried not to think about it, but with her standing there in front of him, it was nearly impossible to focus on anything else. Wherever he looked, her body stared back at him, compelling him to the unavoidable conclusion: she was bigger…Her arms, her legs…everything just looked a little larger and fuller. Her hips looked wider; and she looked taller too. Her 2-inch heels gave her a boost, but Warren could tell now that he wasn’t looking straight into the middle of her neck anymore — now, his eyes were only just above her collarbones.
“Warren?” asked Irina searchingly leaning forward and peering at him, “You see this here?”
He quickly realized that she was shaking something in her hand. His stomach clenched when he saw that she was holding the plastic thimble cup of the medicine that he…had forgotten to take that morning.
“Oh! Oh…my god…Irina, thank you!” he stammered, stepping forward to take the cup from her fingers. “I guess…haha, I guess I forgot to take it this morning. But I…uh, I’ve always remembered before. This is the first ti—…uh, yeah, don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”
Irina knew that she needed to try and stay as calm and casual as possible during this interaction, but when she had seen the full thimble cup on Warren’s sink, she hadn’t been able to repress a flash of concerned exasperation. Didn’t he realize how important it was, how essential it was, that he take his medicine like clockwork? Had he been intentionally missing doses?! He definitely was looking smaller to her, but she had to remember that their daily measurements had so far confirmed that he wasn’t shrinking anywhere near as fast as he would have been without treatment. Still, though…every dose was important. Maybe she needed to call Sarah and talk to her about this…?
‘No, what am I even thinking?’ she had said to herself in reproach as she brought him the medicine, ‘This isn’t even a big deal…it just skipped his mind this. Nothing to blow out of proportion. You have to remember to keep a respectful distance.’
“Heheh, that’s ok Warren,” she said out loud, now back in the present as she handed him the little cup. “You don’t need to promise me anything. I just wanted to bring it to you.”
“Well…haha, thanks,” chuckled Warren, taking the cup and promptly downing it. Why had he felt a need to tell Irina that he wouldn’t forget again? Why did he feel so embarrassed right now? Why…was his heart beating so fast? The two of them stood there in silence for a couple moments that seemed longer than necessary, with Warren looking awkwardly aside at the wall and Irina looking down on him steadily, a slight smile on her face. She was fighting the sudden urge to take him up in her arms and squeeze him. He was 5’4 now, and down to 113 pounds. In her heels, she rose up above him by 4 inches…or was it maybe even more? Irina hadn’t been measuring herself, since she didn’t want to further fuel any unwanted thoughts…he knew that if she found out she was getting bigger, it would be harder and harder for her to control herself around Warren. But just looking down on him now…yes…he was looking especially small.
“So, uhmm…ok, yeah…thanks…Irina,” said Warren awkwardly, managing to bring his eyes up to meet hers. Irina knew that he was telling her to leave, and she swallowed down any impulse to start a conversation, respectfully nodding as she backed out of the room.
“Of course,” she said pleasantly. “Anytime.”
Warren stood there alone in the room for a minute after Irina left. He was annoyed with himself at having missed his dose, but more than anything else, he was confused about how he was feeling. He had noticed a look in her eyes as she smiled down on him…something that was hard to put his finger on. Did Irina…think he was cute…or something? Or maybe she was just eager for him to take his medicine? Warren didn’t know, but that look in her eye, coupled with the weight of her physical presence, made him want more. He found himself wishing that she hadn’t felt pressure to leave the room. Warren knew this was all his doing — he had been the one who had made it clear that he wanted to do as much for himself as possible. But this feeling he was having, this strange yearning for some kind of…what was it…intimacy…with her? He really wasn’t sure. But it made him feel uneasy, even as he reminded himself that he was doing a great job so far controlling his anxiety.
The rest of the week proceeded along in similar fashion to this brief encounter between them. Warren tried to conduct himself normally, doing everything he would ordinarily do, but as each day passed, the changes that he had seen in the news broadcast that one morning became less and less subtle. To begin with, he couldn’t watch anything on TV without noticing more and more that things were different. It wasn’t just TV anchors anymore — men were barely to be seen anywhere on TV. All men’s sports had been cancelled; they only played women’s sports now. Women were the presenters, the actors, the voices in the commercials. And the commercials themselves…they were clearly beginning to cater only to women now. “Is your husband being extra sour about his size? Nothing fits him anymore? Try Tammi’s hand-stitched clothes for shrunken men! They’re not kid’s clothes — they’re for your tiny man!” Or bras: “Finding that you’re carrying a lot more around these days? Don’t worry, it’s happening to all of us, and Victoria’s Secret is here to help. Introducing the Maxi-Bras, the D-cups, E-cups, F-cups, and all the way up to K-cups! For all you out there who have to take extra good care of your men, your jugs deserve a break.”
Warren couldn’t escape it — no matter which way he turned, he was met with the telltale signs of the new world order. He felt irritated that he couldn’t make use of his go-to means of escape. He tried playing more video games, but he found that his reflexes, as well as his eyesight, were all getting worse. He couldn’t move his fingers nearly as fast, and the previously-crisp graphics on his games were looking blurrier and blurrier by the day. What’s more, he was feeling more and more tired, and he started taking naps in the middle of the day — he had never taken naps before. All the while, he tried to push out of his mind the inescapable implications of his diagnosis, but this was becoming increasingly hard, as everything seemed to be closing around him.
It certainly didn’t help that Irina had to measure him every day. This meant that he had to stand close to her for at least half a minute. This wasn’t a problem initially, but now he felt consumed by anxiety by the thought of being close to her. He felt like he was close to losing control each time — she was just so much bigger than him, and he was painfully…sensually aware of this every time she measured him. He could feel her body rising up next to his; he could smell her light, sweet, earthy scent. Sometimes her fingers would brush his shoulder, or the top of his head, as she measured him, and Warren would feel an electrical charge go through his body each time.
He felt frustrated at himself — what on earth was going on!? Irina was his housekeeper! His employee! And what’s more, he wasn’t even, like…that attracted to her or anything. Sure, she was pretty, but…nothing justified the internal reaction he was having around her. It was even beginning to manifest in physical ways. He had to focus not to get an erection when she was close to him, especially when she was casually calling attention to his shrinking when she was measuring him. And her breasts…Warren had resolved not to even look at them anymore. They had gotten so big, and if he did so much as glance at theme now, he could feel himself having a helpless physiological reaction. He didn’t just get hard — he actually found himself fantasizing about sucking on those big, hard nipples that protruded through her top. He had even woken up one morning from a dream in which he was doing just that, except he was naked, and no larger than a foot tall, cradled in her large, warm arms as she whispered cooing words of encouragement down at him.
Irina knew that Warren had noticed her nipples, which became hard and erect whenever she was close to him. She couldn’t help it — she even saw his little mouth puckering up for an instant, like an instinctual twitch, before his eyes flitted nervously away. She felt like she knew what was happening inside him; she could tell he was becoming increasingly nervous around her, and she could tell that he was making it a point to look anywhere but her chest. The end result was that he was often looking past her, at the wall, whenever he was talking to her. Part of her thought it was cute, but another part had a more intense reaction. She wanted to feel his lips on her nipples; she wanted to hold him, to squeeze him, to care for him. She felt a strange feeling, like she had somehow earned this privilege because of the dichotomy in their behavior around each other. She was the one who made eye contact with him; she was the one who instigated each night’s measurements; she was the one who enjoyed the easy sense of confidence around him. More and more, he was behaving like a younger person, almost like a little kid. She was the one who was the adult in the exchange. Their increasing size disparity seemed to coincide perfectly with their disparity in behavior. Why couldn’t she feed her harmless desires?
‘Get with it Irina,’ she would tell herself over and over, as she shook her head, cooking or cleaning. ‘You’re letting all of this get to your head. You don’t actually want any of this. It’s just…it’s just the virus, doing weird things to your mind. Just think if you actually acted on any of this. He’d fire you in an instant. Always remember your place.’
So the two of them struggled apart, silently, with their own irrational impulses, keeping up the normal pretenses in their interactions, and going to bed at night to be alone with their troubling dreams.
One day, Warren had been feeling particularly insecure about his intensifying infantile feelings around Irina. He had accidentally run into her turning a corner, with his face actually getting smushed up in the top part of her huge, squishy cleavage. Irina had laughed it off, but Warren had immediately gotten red and fled to a far corner of the house, to the library, to escape the power of her presence.
‘I’m just gonna…find one of my mom’s old books and…and read it,’ he thought, climbing the ladder to reach one of the top shelves, ‘Just to get my mind off things.’
He spotted an elaborately decorated book, The Saga of the Volsungs…that would do just fine. He reached for the book, but stretched too far and slipped off the ladder. He had overestimated his reach, and the strength of his grip on the ladder. He fell down hard to the floor, and even the floor was carpeted, he banged his knee hard, so hard that it took his breath away. The overwhelming pain came an instant later, and Warren found himself literally bawling his eyes out, clutching his leg, and rolling over so that he wasn’t lying directly on his shoulder, which was also starting to bruise. But he wasn’t crying just from the pain, even though it was intense. He was crying because he now finally had to accept how much, how desperately, he needed Irina. And it made him very, very afraid. He tried to get up, but found that he couldn’t. He was stuck, and she didn’t know where he was.