Balance of Nature

By Nomdreserv

Part 3

David moaned as he felt his erection being fondled through his sleep. He woke slowly, eager to enjoy the sensations of the hand stroking him. What a wonderful way to wake up in the morning, he thought groggily. He sighed and luxuriated in the feeling, enjoying every light stroke and tickle. He tried to ignore a small part of his mind yelling for attention and warning through his sleep haze. What could possibly be the matter? It felt wonderful.

But odd, he slowly realized. Barb’s touch felt different somehow, now that he concentrated on it. The hand stroking him almost felt…larger than normal as it enclosed his shaft.

His eyes flew open as the memories of what he must have hoped was a bad dream came flooding back, and his fears were confirmed. Barb, looking a foot taller than normal, was happily smiling and stroking his very erect cock in obvious anticipation. Even now, she "oohed" in delight as she felt his precum start to coat her hand. She immediately licked her fingers and moaned in delight as she felt the first taste of power.

For once, his shock was enough to overcome his lust, even on the verge of climax. He yelled and scrambled out from under her reach, nearly falling as he leapt from the bed. Was he already shorter? The bed seemed even higher off the floor than last night. He glared at her accusingly, even as his cock twitched in frustration.

"Aw, honey," she pouted playfully. "I thought you liked it when I woke you up like that." She patted the bed. "Don’t you want me to finish?"

"No," he said icily, ignoring the throbbing in his erection. He walked towards the bathroom and locked the door, using every ounce of willpower not to touch himself. The compulsion in the aphrodisiac was going to be hard to ignore, but he just had to. Looking at himself in the mirror gave him resolve. He looked so small and short, barely stomach high to the counter. What was he now, five feet? He couldn’t dare lose any more height.

Barb’s voice came through the door. "You can try a nice, cold shower, dear, but it won’t work. I’ll leave some clothes here for you, but if you change your mind, I’ll be in the kitchen."

David listened to her receding footsteps with a mixture of relief and disappointment. His cock was trying to do his thinking for him, despite the obvious catastrophic results. He tried to subdue it just as she suggested, deliberately letting the water stay cold as he stepped into the shower. His resolve stiffened (in contrast to another part) when he noticed how he had to reach to adjust the shower head down. The soap and shampoo bottle felt strange too, thanks to his smaller hands. When he stepped out, his towel dragged the floor as he dried off, and he couldn’t hold both ends without having it flop behind him.

He studied his reflection. He looked like a kid except for his mature face and beard. To emphasize that difference, he decided to skip shaving, but the rest of his body still mocked him. And it wasn’t just height. He fumed as he thought of how and where his once proud muscles had disappeared, leaving him skinny and even more puny looking. Even Barb would have to admit that he looked ridiculous. Maybe she would listen to reason now that she’d had a night of teasing him.

That hope evaporated as he stepped outside. The clothes she’d picked out for him were hers. In fact, to further rub it in, he recognized the jeans as a pair she’d outgrown soon after starting her weight training. She’d even left a pair of her panties on top of the pile!

Ignoring the insulting implications, he stalked over to the bureau and opened the drawer, pulling out a pair of his own boxers. He pulled them on, despairing at how loose the waistband felt. Looking in the mirror, he saw that they were already sagging dangerously, drooping in front to nearly expose his pubic hair, and the legs billowing around his much thinner legs. One step convinced him that they wouldn’t be stable. He tried an old pair of cotton briefs, but the many washings had left little elastic in the band, and they also threatened to lose their hold. He finally decided on skipping underwear entirely.

Unfortunately, that left him few options for the rest of his clothes. He tried on several pairs of his pants, concentrating on once-tight jeans, but the waists were again dangerously loose, the risk compounded many times by the way the feet dragged the floor. One false step would send him sprawling and expose him at the same time. Cursing, he finally turned to the clothes in Barb’s closet. Hers were also too big, a fact which once more drove home just how small he’d already become, but were at least manageable. He finally picked another pair of gender-neutral sweatpants, the elastic waist and cuffs actually giving them a semblance of fitting. He chose one of his own T-shirts in a gesture of defiance, despite the way the shoulders sagged and the bottom hung to mid thigh. Tucking it in, he walked to the kitchen.

And stopped dead. There smiling at him was Jessica, sipping coffee at the table and clearly waiting expectantly.

"Oh my God! He’s so fucking short!" she exclaimed in delight.

Barb appeared around the corner holding the coffee pot.

"There you are, darling. Jessica decided to join us for breakfast. We’ve been talking shop while you dressed."

David glared and immediately turned to leave.

"Wait, don’t go!" Jessica demanded urgently. "How short is he, Barb? Is the rate fitting to our model? We have to measure him. He looks so small. Is he under 5 feet already?"

"I’m five-two," David announced icily, but actually worried that Barb’s wake-up had changed that. "Thanks to you."

A smirk. "You wouldn’t be so short if you could control yourself, Davey darling. You were my height last night. How many times have you come since then?"

Barb interceded. "Now, Jessica, don’t tease him. He’s being very good about helping us with our experiment." She came over to kiss him, bending down to do so. Her breasts were nearly level with his face, and she pulled him protectively into her cleavage. Unfortunately, having her now huge breasts presented in this fashion served to reawaken his ever-ready and betraying cock.

"Yeah, I’ll bet," Jessica snickered. "Look, he’s ready again."

David cursed the loose fit of the sweatpants and lack of underwear that allowed a tent to immediately announce the truth of her accusation. He pulled away angrily from Barb and tried to leave again.

And found himself caught in an iron grip. He struggled hopelessly, but knew from experience that her new strength was unbeatable.

"Now, David," she pouted teasingly. "It really wouldn’t be polite to leave like that. Why don’t you sit down and have a cup of coffee, and we’ll talk."

He made one last effort to break free, and nearly stumbled when she suddenly let go. Trying to maintain his dignity, he stalked to the table and sat down. To his dismay, his feet didn’t quite reach the floor as he sat in his normal chair. Worse, now even Jessica’s height advantage became obvious when she smirked down at him.

"Comfy?" she teased. "You’re looking a little low this morning."

His face flushed red.

"Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to prove by this, but…"

"Prove?" she interrupted. "We’re not proving anything. We’re doing. And we’re going to improve the life of women all over the world. Men have always equated their size and strength with inherent superiority, no matter what lip service they pay otherwise. It’s time we evened the playing field and made equality a fact rather than fiction." Her eyes lit up. "Speaking of playing fields, I’ve been talking with the coaches for the local girls’ teams. I think we have our first customers lined up."

"You can’t be serious," David exclaimed.

"No?" Her eyes held his calmly.

Barb intervened. "Don’t worry, David. She’s just having fun with you. We’re not ready to market this yet. Besides, most of the time the changes wouldn’t be as…extreme as they were for you. We’re going to even things out, not turn women into a dominating race of amazons."

Jessica seemed to nod in agreement, but when Barb turned away to get a cup for David, she turned towards him and smiled in a predatory fashion, giving him a very suspicious and deliberate wink.

"OK," David insisted, feeling his blood run cold at Jessica’s expression. "So change me back."

"But, David," Barb argued. "This is an unbelievable chance for us to find out the full effects of the potion. You’ve got to see how important this is."

"I don’t have to see anything," David exploded. "I’m sitting here, five feet tall and dressed in my wife’s pants." (An explosive snort of mirth from Jessica) "And you’re babbling about experiments. I can’t live like this."

"Of course you can," she shot back. "There are millions of people five feet tall, and they do just fine."

"And if I get any smaller?" he demanded.

An uneasy silence.

"I am going to get smaller, aren’t I?" he asked hopelessly.

She nodded a bit contritely. "It’s still close to full strength in your system. It would be dangerous to try to reverse it right away."

"I’ll risk it," he insisted.

Jessica interrupted. "Actually, David, I’m the only one who has the reversal formula."

His eyes went wide in shock. When he looked to Barb, she just nodded. "It’s very volatile. Jessica has to make it immediately before use or it loses its potency. We have to figure out how to stabilize that before we release it."

"Only if we WANT to reverse it," Jessica suggested.

"Jess!"

"All right, all right. I’m just joking. Besides, that’s where we’ll make our money. They’ll have to come to us, the only provider, for an antidote. And can you imagine how much those tiny, little men will be willing to pay?"

"So make some now," David now turned on Jessica.

"No."

"No?" He was livid.

"No. You need to be taught a lesson, and we need the information. You’re small. You’re getting smaller. Get used to it."

He balled his fists in rage. Unfortunately for him, Jessica noticed.

"Aha! Typical male response, and just the sort of thing we’re going to change." She leaned forward taunting him. "Ooh, is the big, strong man going to FORCE the poor, little woman to do what he wants? That’s what you’re used to, isn’t it? Well, no more, short stuff. Go ahead, try something. I dare you."

"Jessica!" Barb intervened again. "You know David would never hit a woman. He’s never, ever been violent to me, or anyone I know."

"Hmmph." Jessica seemed disappointed as David used the interruption to back down. "Probably because the implied threat – just being so much bigger – was always enough. Men don’t have to hit to intimidate." She sipped her coffee a second, then her eyes lit up. She set the cup aside and placed her elbow on the table, palm held aloft. "Tell you what, Davey. I want to see how much effect the stuff has had on your strength, just out of curiosity. Let’s arm wrestle."

"Oh, Jessica, don’t be silly," Barb laughed, trying to defuse the situation.

"It’s not silly," Jessica insisted. "It’s actually a good experiment. How does he stand up after a few doses? I want to see for myself."

"It’s not fair," Barb continued, defending him.

"Not against you, obviously," Jessica reasoned. "But it is against me. He’s smaller, but not by a lot, and I’m still just an ordinary woman. Right, Davey? No ordinary woman could beat you – you pretty much said that to Barb the other night. I don’t even work out like Barb does." She looked almost hungrily at him. "So, how about it, David? You win, and I make the antidote potion right here and now. You could be back to normal tonight. I win, and you quit whining about the experiment. What could be fairer?" She leaned forward again, eyes glinting. "Unless you’re scared?"

David hesitated despite the taunt. On the one hand, he had seen firsthand how much smaller and weaker he was. But that had been in comparison to his now amazonian wife. He was still a man, and Jessica was just a woman. Even smaller, he should have an advantage right?

He felt far less confident than this reasoning should have left him, gazing at Jessica’s ready arm resting on the table. He slowly raised his own, figuring he really had nothing to lose.

"All right!" Jessica proclaimed, immediately locking hands. "Barb, you can count."

Barb looked doubtful, but complied. "Ready? One, two, three – go."

They tensed simultaneously, each straining to quickly put the other down. Unfortunately, they were so closely matched, that neither hand moved significantly. David was pleased to see that his biceps were still better defined than Jessica’s.

But smaller. And that took its toll. As the seconds passed, he felt more and more of a strain to match her. Sweat appeared on his brow, and he glanced at her to see how uncomfortable she looked. He was dismayed to see that she didn’t seem to be hurting at all. In fact, she was waiting to meet his eyes, and as soon as she did so, she smiled, as though this was the signal to stop playing. Sure enough, her hand began to inexorably move his down. He redoubled his efforts, ignoring the pain in his arm, knowing he had to reverse it before the angle became critical. He even lifted his elbow off the table slightly, cursing her longer arm that gave her leverage.

It was all for naught. A second later, Jessica gave a small grunt and slammed his hand down. A second later, she had stood up and was jumping in the air.

"I did it! God, he’s even weaker than he looks. My 12 year old nephew could have lasted longer." She saw David rubbing his arm, utterly devastated, then held out her hand. "No hard feelings?" A laugh. "In fact, no hard anything from the feel of you." The next second, she saw the tent that had again formed in his pants, and she laughed even harder. "Except there, of course. Barb, I think he likes this!"

"Fuck you!" David shouted, dismayed at the way his voice jumped an octave higher than normal when he wasn’t careful. He jumped off his chair, ran past Barb’s attempt to restrain him, and into the bedroom, locking the door. To his relief, no one followed him, though he heard Jessica and Barb talking in low voices. Desperate to get away from this new source of humiliation, he gave up on his principle and grabbed Barb’s jeans. He shucked the loose sweatpants, then actually paused considering the proffered pair of panties. His own underwear was useless, and he’d hated the way his arousal had been so obvious. Was it worth…?

No, he decided. The jeans would hide his erection better, and he could buy new underwear. He put on socks, which felt loose even when stretched to mid calf, then his shoes. These were also loose, but he tightened the laces as much as he could, and was pleased to see they would stay on, even if they did flop a bit with each step. After grabbing his keys, he almost ran to the door.

Barb saw him leaving and gasped. "David, where are you going?"

"Out," he snapped. "Let me know when the witch is gone."

Before she could argue, he was out the door and gone. In his car, he cursed in frustration again as he had to adjust the seat up as far as it would go, and even then he had to sit forward slightly to reach the pedals. How short could drivers be and operate a standard vehicle? He didn’t want to find out. He peeled out of the lot, almost losing control, and then slowed down as he realized how different the wheel and pedals felt at this new size. He drove aimlessly at first, then decided he could at least solve some of his problems if he had clothes that fit.

He was waiting at a light when another car pulled up alongside, both the teenaged driver and passenger staring curiously into his. The girl turned to her boyfriend.

"See, I told you. He’s just really short."

"Whoa, I thought it was, like, a kid driving or something." He noticed David glaring and waved. "Sorry, little dude." With a laugh, they roared away at the light change.

David actually hesitated when he arrived at the mall and saw all the people walking in and out. Did he really want anyone else to see him like this? No. But then, did he want to wear his wife’s clothes instead? Even more emphatically, no. He could run in and out in a few minutes, keeping the embarrassment to a minimum.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be. His first incident was his own fault. He hurried into the mall, his eyes cast down, deliberately refusing to look up or around to avoid seeing people’s reaction to him. Even so, he could tell how tall everyone seemed, their size automatically intimidating and embarrassing. Even some of the children were nearly his height, and he could hear some comments from the younger ones as he walked past. He tried to ignore his surroundings, hurried round the corner into a department store.

And ran straight into a group of teenaged girls.

Ran was the most appropriate word, too, since his speed betrayed him, making him collide full force into a tall and very surprised blonde. Even worse, the collision sent him sprawling, but barely stopped her. He even lost a shoe in the fracas. As he retrieved it, she stood above him angrily. She wore heavy, almost goth makeup, had spiked hair, and several visible piercings. She couldn’t have been more than 15 years old, and yet she towered over him, made more imposing by her anger. David had never been physically intimidated by a girl in his life, let alone a high school sophomore.

Until now.

"Hey, you little dweeb, why don’t you watch where the fuck…" Her eyes went wide as she took in David’s face, realizing he was an adult. She looked in surprise at her friends for support, but they just started to giggle as they realized what had happened too. The next instant, she was helping David to his feet, gaping openly when she saw how short he was. "Oh, I’m sorry, um, mister. But I didn’t see…I mean, you were walking so fast…"

He slipped the shoe back on and shrugged off her assistance. She stood a few more seconds, looking at his loose clothes, the oversized shoes, and the obvious attitude, exchanged looks with her amused friends, then bit her lip trying to stop her own smile.

"Again, I’m sorry," she repeated, but now with a baiting, almost insolent inflection. She turned and started to leave with her friends, when the suppressed giggles finally broke to the surface. She glanced back teasingly and gave him a mocking, lingering look up and down. "I’m REALLY sorry."

This implied volumes more than it said, and proved highly amusing to all the girls, who burst out laughing as they hurried away, two of them casting a last, backwards look to catch his reaction, and laughing even harder when they saw his expression. He merely clenched his fists in helpless anger and continued on his way.

His situation hardly improved even after reaching the menswear department. First, he noticed he was drawing openly surprised stares from the other men. And he could swear the women all smiled or smirked after spotting him, quickly averting their gazes lest they react more rudely. He also hadn’t counted on the lack of clothes in his new size. He had looked at Barb’s pants in the dressing room. She was a 28 waist and length, and those were already too large and long. Guessing, he figured he was probably about a 22 or 24, and the men’s jeans just didn’t go that small. As he searched the racks fruitlessly, a woman’s voice came from behind him.

"Can I help you?"

He turned to find a young saleswoman. She was probably average height, but of course, she towered over him by at least eight inches thanks to her low heels. Her eyes went wide and she did a double-take as she saw his face. She seemed flustered, but quickly amended her previous question with an added, "Sir?"

"I’m looking for jeans," he announced needlessly.

"Of course," she agreed, trying hard to maintain a neutral expression. She had assumed he was some junior high kid rummaging idly through the stock. "I was just going to suggest you try our children’s…I mean, our teens…, um, young, um." Her eyes swept him up and down in obvious uncertainty. "Our young adults section," she finally finished in relief.

He looked at her coldly. "I prefer my clothes from here."

"Oh, sure," she nodded. "It’s just that you’re so…so…" She waved her hands helplessly, inadvertently drawing her hand parallel to his head to mime an unconscious thought about height. "Well, I mean, you’re probably sort of hard to fit. We have some smaller…I mean, younger…I mean, other sizes across the aisle." She pointed towards a display of baggy shorts and jeans designed for early adolescents.

"Fine," he agreed frostily, forced to admit that he’d have better luck there. "How about underwear? Do you have boxers in a 24 waist? Or smaller?" he added, thinking ahead.

She looked embarrassed. "Um, no. Most kids don’t need…I mean, they’re not big enough to…I mean, they usually buy the jockey briefs." She glanced unconsciously at his crotch."

He blushed. "I think those would be too tight."

She actually burst out with a giggle before catching herself, with another dismissive glance below. Delusions of grandeur, obviously. "Of course, sir. No doubt you need something more comfortable. Still, if you’d like, I could bring you a few packs of the briefs while you try on something."

He blushed in anger and embarassment, but didn’t say no, finally skulking over to the boys’ section. At least here there were clothes that would fit, though it meant ignoring the annoying styles and packaging that tried to scream "cool" and catch the socially awkward tweeners’ attention, but only served to mock an adult male. Having taken the plunge, he loaded up on several sizes, deliberately choosing a few pairs he knew would be too small. For now. He caught himself looking at the young boys’ section – even the toddlers’ clothes – and suppressed a shudder. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

He tried on what would have normally been a ridiculously small pair of jeans, and was relieved and depressed to find they fit almost perfectly. He went out to look in the mirror, feeling at least a bit more secure to have pants that didn’t drag the floor or threaten to fall with every step, though having pants that fit also served to heighten how large his baggy shirt and flopping shoes were. He almost jumped out of those shoes when her voice came from behind again.

"Ooh. Perfect fit. And don’t you look cu…er, handsome." She held out the underwear packs, and David looked hopelessly at the pictures of young boys and sullen adolescents that adorned them.

But he bought them anyway. On his way out, he stopped to look at shoes. A pair of sneakers caught his eye. They looked like they would fit, and he checked to see what size they were, only to find that he was looking at women’s shoes. Fighting another wave of chagrin, he looked for the men’s, only to immediately lose hope. All the shoes were so damn big! Why didn’t they carry smaller sizes? Weren’t there other men as short as he was.

The crowds milling around him answered the question for him. With a sigh, he tried to decide if buying a kids’ size or woman’s would embarrass him more.

After another half hour, he had enough of a wardrobe to feel more secure, and at least he wouldn’t have to wear any more of Barb’s clothes. Feeling a little better – shopping always provided some sense of authority, and at least the power of his credit card hadn’t shrunk – he headed back to his car. On the way out, he spotted the same girls who had collided with him on the way in. They were laughing and drinking, hanging around the entrance to the store, watching the people leave. They almost seemed to be waiting for someone.

Their eyes lit up when he appeared, setting off a round of covert looks and giggles. When they immediately straightened up, he realized with a sinking feeling mixed with an unaccustomed flash of fear that they were doing just that.

They were waiting for him.

End part 3

Copyright 2001 by Nomdreserv