It started out as a miracle medicine. Women losing weight, pounds a day, even the most obese people. Designed to create a perfect hourglass figure, the rest of the body followed suit. Women not only became more beautiful, but overall much healthier as well.
Nowadays it's considered a magic potion, as people are convinced the most success is gained by taking the monthly dose during the full moon. Ridiculous of course, as some may remember still that originally the dose had to be taken on the first day of their period. Nothing magical about that.
Of course there were side effects. A total overhaul of the fashion industry, as any woman could now show off their body. Plus, the competition to date men was much tougher, seeing that being a beautiful and healthy woman was now the rule, rather than the exception.
Health care took a big hit, as it were mostly men now that needed care. And slowly men started taking the magic potion as well.
I was one of the front runners. Overweight at age thirty I never liked the solutions where you had to inject yourself. Taking the “potion”, a perfectly dosed amount in a soft shelled “pill”, was easier accepted.
The first two knock-offs that I tried didn't do anything for me, other than making me feel miserable. But the third, made by the same manufacturer as the female version, was much closer to the successful formula, and I started dropping pounds.
Like the female version it took about a year for the body to adapt to the medicine. Not just my gut disappeared, but also the fat in my arms and legs, and even my face and neck. I had no urge for all the fatty food I ate before, and my body became healthier, again following the female pattern. So were the boobs.
Don't get me wrong. I had quite some man boobs before, even bigger than what I had now. But on my smaller frame they were much more visible and distinctly shaped in what I would call a female form factor. Long story short, I, and all the rest of the ten thousand in my trial group, with narrow waists now, seemed to have adopted a similar hourglass figure as most women in the world.
With also some “meat” on my hips and my rear, rather than fat, my A-cup breasts gave my body a feminine look. Add the side effect of when my skin was “shrinking” causing all my hair follicles to close, making my legs, arms and even my face more delicate. The small group of men in our group that weren't as much overweight didn't have that particular side effect, but all had the same hourglass figure.
Clothing was a problem for us. Yes, we could still wear our original clothes, as baggy as they were, but in our new size no male pants would fit. The female fashion industry aimed their “knowledge” at us now, and I found the new jeans and business suits quite comfortable. The cut however only worked thanks to a smart sleeve inside our newly designed underwear that guided our manhood between our legs.
Workout tops were the typical solution to flatten our small breasts, but some more daring guys tried actual bras with on and off success. This was strongly dependent on the female interest that we gained.
Yes, like most guys in our trial group, I worked out, something I couldn't really do, only a year before. In our tighter skin it was much more difficult to grow serious muscles, but the effort did not go unnoticed, and I had many date proposals, versus about zero, again a year ago.
Where the too-female look at first was regarded a failure in our test group, slowly it became the desired standard to attract most women, and the company called the test trials a success, and released the magic potion to the general public.
Luckily, I had about a year of little competition in the dating department, and I only needed two months before I found the perfect woman. Okay, I confess, I'm not really that much of a Casanova, the potion didn't change that part. But, after the first year of trial, it took another two months before the perfect woman found me. I guess she considered me perfect in a way.
Yoko was her name, of Japanese heritage, but with a large black father, causing her to be about my height. Heck, not just height, all our measurements were practically similar. Something she liked pointing out, as she slowly adapted my fashion style.
Not just my hairstyle, as the hair on my head had been growing much more rapidly ever since taking the potion. But no more exercise tops for me, unless I was actually exercising. I found her bras that she shared with me quite comfortable however, so no harm done.
She likes heels a lot, trained by her petite but gorgeous mom in them from early on. But when she wears them she's taller than me, which she doesn't like. She convinced me to wear similar height heels, but with my own jeans that really looked weird. Her jeans are two inches longer than mine though, and if I wear those, you hardly notice the heels.
I don't know why I gave in so easily to her suggested improvements, maybe another side effect of the potion? But when she showed me one day with a tiny bit of makeup how much I looked like a girl, I knew I should put up more of a fight. If only sex with her wasn't so amazing.
She enjoyed it as much as I, but she used it to her advantage. When we slept together, I was to wear one of her nighties, and each one of them was sexy, and extremely feminine. Add to that her being in control, and I was always on my back, my flagpole sticking up, as she mounted it.
Yes, it was a major side effect of the clothing, it was assumed, in our original test group. With our manhood tucked away for the day, it had been shrinking to more comfortable dimensions, as it was bent between the legs. At night however, freed from the tucking underwear, it seemed to compensate for the day's “humiliation”, coming out as a monster that was highly appreciated by anyone with a partner, or by that partner really.
So, Yoko would mount my pole, then bend over and free my breasts from the nightie, as she sucked my nipples. I had no defense against the onslaught of feelings. She could make me cum at will, sometimes twice. And I simply accepted the changes that she wanted me to go through.
The makeup was one of them. She liked it when I looked like a girl, and the effort was so small before we'd go out, yet the reward at night was tremendous, so why not. I could be Ona for a few hours, as she worked my eyes to look more Asian like her. The makeup remained during the night as well, as I acted as the more submissive one in our relationship.
As we decided to move in together, I became Ona during the weekends as well. She taught me Japanese and introduced me to the Japanese lifestyle. At home we'd wear traditional kimonos and speak Japanese only. With minor tattoos on my face I became more and more what she called her Geisha.
I can't really tell in what order things started changing, but a number of things happened in a short period of time. We'd still go out often, but I'd be wearing skirts now. And stockings. Sometimes the ones that stick to your legs, and sometimes I'd wear a garterbelt to keep the stockings up. I don't recall ever wearing male clothes again.
I was not the only one in the group meetings for the original test. We were getting close to the two year point, which would be the end of the test, and thus the end of getting paid. I would have to find a job. And everyone in the group that wanted to be recognized as female, was helped for free with all paperwork involved. It made sense I changed my last name as well, and I took Yoko's surname.
More often we'd go to Japanese restaurants and get-togethers, wearing traditional gear, and nobody suspected I wasn't originally a woman. Or Japanese for that matter, as by now my thinking and even dreaming was in Japanese. I was the one cooking and maintaining the household, and I wasn't even considering finding a job. That's when we found out that Yoko was pregnant.
We were both extremely happy, as were her parents. I had broken away from my own family years ago, and I loved how I was accepted in her family. As Oscar at first, although that was long forgotten by now. I was Ona, their soon to be daughter in law.
Knowing that Yoko was pregnant by me, changed something in my brain, that's the only way I can explain it. I guess it's normal to feel love for your unborn child, but it even affected my body. As Yoko's breasts started growing, so did mine, and a doctor's visit proved it was caused by milk glands. I'd be able to breastfeed our child as much as Yoko would.
We decided on a quick wedding, before Yoko would show too much. It was all traditional Japanese, even my vow to Yoko, as I promised to honor and obey her for life, and accepted my responsibilities of running the household and raising all our children. Somehow this seemed like my perfect role in this life.
I realized something must have been amiss when a third year was added to our test group, and sales were stopped. It turned out that about five percent of the group had made a woman pregnant, really not that big of a group, considering we were all very attractive to modern women.
The problem however, was that everyone of these males experienced a similar breast growth like I had. Plus, they promised lifelong commitments to the mother to be, again, not different from me. I wasn't sure where the problem in this was. Until I found out that some of these men had just had casual sex, one night stands, whatever you want to call it. Even a few men that were married already, but got a girlfriend on the side pregnant, committed their life to this very same woman. Worse, they were no longer capable of producing an erection with anyone but said woman.
They did tests on me as well, although I had no interest in anyone else but Yoko. It was definitely clear I could not even masturbate without her around, even when she told me to do so, my manhood remained small and flaccid. With her in the same room my flagpole came to full size.
It took six more months, during which my mind became more female, as it prepared for motherhood. Apparently every man in the test group that had gotten their woman pregnant was physically and mentally linked to that woman, and embraced motherhood like myself. It finally came out that one of the secret ingredients in the potion was extracted from a type of lovebird. Once mated, these birds were joined for life, with the males taking full maternal responsibilities, once the eggs hatched.
Interestingly enough, in these same six months an additional seventy five percent of the males in the test group had since also impregnated a woman, happily accepting their new position in life. And although no official records were kept on who had obtained the potion during the period it was freely available, millions of doses had been sold, and a distinct behavioral change had been detected among sexually active males.
It felt like a new world order had started. The church blessed the new type of family life, as it produced a life-long bond of marriage that promised many healthy children that would be raised in an environment filled with love and dedication. At first it was unsettling that men took on the maternal role in the family life, but in a way it made the men of the church even more powerful, as long as they stayed away from the potion that was back on the market.
By the time our child was born, one of the first in the new order, I was no longer capable of speaking English, though I could understand it. A few months before Yoko had ordered me to only speak Japanese from then on, and forget how to speak English. At the time I thought she joked, but she never revoked the order, and I was incapable of disobeying.
But when a nurse, after a short period of labor, put our daughter in my arms, I knew why I existed in this world, and poured all my love into this child. Yoko was sleeping, as I breastfed Kiko. It was the most wonderful feeling as I spoke little words of comfort to the baby.
Within weeks Yoko gave up on breastfeeding, as she got ready to go back to work. She insisted on speaking English only, so that Kiko would understand that just the same as my Japanese. Kiko loved both of us and enjoyed either language. As careful as I was with her, Yoko was wild and crazy, and I loved the laugh on their faces. But at night, and when she wasn't happy, she was mine. I told her silly stories and she sucked up every word I said.
I breastfed for almost a year, as our baby turned into a toddler. My sex life with Yoko had been wonderful, as she took her share of my sweet milk. Then she would feed me back my own junk that I had sprayed inside her. Only weeks after my breasts had dried up did we find she was pregnant again. I couldn't be more happy.
After our fourth child, finally a boy, Yoko decided it was enough, and a surgery took my last manly bit away. But the first time she tried out my new pussy with her strap-on, I knew it was a good trade.
Yoko was the traditional provider in our family, by now pretty standard in this new world. I had become more and more the vision of a geisha as she wanted me to be years ago. I often took our kids to my parents-in-law, and Yoko had made sure I would obey both of them as much as I did to her.
It was a bit of a surprise though when my mother in law took all the kids to Chucky Cheese, telling me to take care of her husband. And soon after I was on my knees doing the BJ ceremony, as he called it. He ordered me to give him as much pleasure as possible, and enjoy it as well. I learned real quick.
An hour later he was ready again and he wanted to try my pussy. I could not disobey, and again he made sure I got maximum pleasure from it as well. I had no idea how much better it was than Yoko's strap-on. He told me to keep it a secret from Yoko, and he wanted me to visit with the kids at least once a week. He wanted me to call him Daddy, and laughed about my bad pronunciation.
In the weeks following I was sometimes with Daddy and sometimes with Mommy, who wanted her own share of me. In a way I gave both their sex life's a new stimulation, where things had dried up between the two of them. I became closer to Yoko's parents than she had ever been. And the kids loved it, going out with one of them, getting a break from me. And my break-time was dedicated to the in-law that stayed home with me.
Things started changing when one day I experienced something that looked and felt like what could only be a period. A doctor confirmed this, and I found I was not the first. It had taken almost ten years before being exposed, but it was clearly another side effect of the magic potion. And feminized men, who never had a surgery like me, had experienced their manhood slowly being changed into a true vagina.
Number wise the world had a problem. Only twenty-five percent of newborns were male, whereas at the same time a majority of males turned female at some point. And active males, that could potentially impregnate the larger percentage of women, became dedicated to the first one to get pregnant. Even “milking” them, before this first pregnancy, didn't work. Somehow the sperm lost its “power”, minutes after being released, and even when frozen instantly.
The math was simple. Half of the women would not get pregnant, in their generation. In each generation. In less than a hundred years, hardly any new child would be born. It was time to panic.
It was too late to stop the potion. Every child had the key ingredients in their system, as had most grown-ups. It was the ones that never got in contact with the potion that had to save the world. Close by, the priests. Then there were the poorest countries that never could afford to import the potion. And some tribes in the Amazon and African jungles. Their men produced a healthy amount of sperm that was sold at extreme prices at the world market.
The poorest countries were suddenly richer than any oil nation had ever been. And as they established trade agreements, they soon controlled the world economy, and in a way they set the rules in this even newer world.
If you think about it, it could have been much worse. Wars could have started to gain possession of this incredibly limited resource. As a matter of fact, one aggressive nation tried to overrun their neighbor, early on. And the tiny nation, still poor by then, had their fertile men fighting the war, each casualty a frightening loss for the whole world. The strongest world powers, now all led by women, put their heads together and ended the war, and set the rules, allowing the small nations and tribes to grow into the new world powers they are now.
In a way, the future of billions of people rested in the hands of perhaps a hundred thousand men, who were treated like gods. They were milked every day, while also fathering new children with their women who were not touched by the magic potion.
It was predicted that the world would survive, although the population would decrease by eighty percent over time, which would be more sustainable given the amount of fertile seed available. And in a way, the world came together like never before, differences in religion and natural resources no longer as important anymore as simply surviving. We were a perfect species, beautiful and healthy, devoted to family. And thanks to a self-inflicted defect in our DNA dependent on the least developed nations in the world, who, instead of bullying like they had been bullied for centuries, chose to save the world and make us whole.
I saw my kids grow up and reach the age that they could give me grandchildren. But neither was lucky until my youngest daughter married into one of the last “old money” families. They got her pregnant through a complicated procedure in which genes of her husband were mixed with a very expensive batch of “original” sperm. The divorce was final the day they found out she was going to have a daughter, rather than an “heir”.
I helped her raise the child, who would never realize that she was not loved by her biological father and his family. But, she was one of the first to receive an experimental DNA-fix when she was 18. I was 95 years old by now myself, and still very healthy. And my great-grandchild was one of the first boys to be born without the deficiency that has changed the world for the past 60 years or so.
It's funny, because as the human race was slowly recovering from being extinct, the new generations were not even half as healthy, or beautiful, or family oriented as mine. They had no chance to reach the age of 130, that I and many others had reached in full health. Overweight, stress and sexual diseases were back, requiring a whole new health system to be built up again.
But, as a species we had learned. We kept the population growth under control, without messing with our genetics again, not to exceed what our natural resources could sustain. I have no clue how long I will be around still, but at some point even that book will be closed, and a dark century will be history.