Into the Gynarchy Dimension

This is the first story I wrote about the dimension travelling scientist that is captured in "The Dink". This is how he started.

I had just returned from the first inter-dimensional trip in human history. I was dumbstruck. My team asked me what had happened, as I had returned after only two hours.

We knew the place on the other side of the portal was earth-like, as we had sent automated drones through. We could not control them after they had phased through so they were programmed to take short trips to take readings and return.

I had been given a wristband that kept my body in sync with the dimensions vibrational frequency. Pushing the return button simply turned the device off and I would be snapped back to my reality.

I stepped through the portal into a sparse wood and headed west. The drone footage showed a settlement in that direction. I felt fairly confident. I am six foot tall and well built.

Within ten minutes I was on the edge of town. It looked like a twentieth-century English village. The buildings were more rounded and the cars were bigger with less sharp angles. I stayed hidden and observed.

The first people I saw were a family. The woman was at least seven foot tall! She was followed by a smaller man, pushing a pram. He was my height. The most surprising thing was the woman was wearing a very sharply tailored suit, the man was wearing a dress! The woman had short, but well-styled hair. The man was slightly balding with a whispy beard.

"Come on keep up"

The giant woman shouted. She seemed to not realise that the man was struggling to get the pram up the high curb.

Why they spoke English I will never know.

I saw a few cars pass by. After a while I noticed only women were driving. I decided to take a risk and walk down the high street. If anything happened, one touch on my wristband would take me home.

I moved quickly, looking through the windows of a small supermarket. It was full of men shopping, wearing what I would call women's clothing. They looked like women from the 1950's. Their dresses stood out a few feet from their knees. As one bent to pick up an item from the bottom shelf, I caught sight of a fluffy petticoat. It looked like he was wearing seamed stockings too.

I studied their faces. They were wearing makeup. Mainly around the eyes. Many have short cropped beards, but even they wore lipstick.

"Quick over here, run!"

I turned to see a man in a dark blue pleated skirt and a white blouse waving at me from across the road.

"In here quick."

He opened the door to a shop.

Steven James Men's Fashions

"Are you mad walking around like that, you could be arrested"

"Sorry I'm not from around here, what have I done"

"Wearing trousers, surely it's illegal everywhere?"

"Are you one of those extreme men's libbers? You don't even use makeup."

"No, I'm just a stranger. I'm from another country. Can you explain your laws so I won't break them in the future?"

He held his hand out limp at the wrist. I took the finger tips lightly in my hand"

"I'm Steven"

"My name is Peter."

"So is this your shop then Steven?"

He laughed as he locked the front door.

"Yeah, right as if a married man can own anything!"

"So whose is it?"

"My wife owns everything of course; married men have no property rights here. Do they where you come from?"

I decided to play along to get as much information as possible.

"Err, no. Not really. I thought with your name on the sign, that it belonged to you. I thought you may not be married."

"I always wanted a shop, but men can't get bank loans without a female family member's permission. I hoped I would earn more money this way. In most jobs, men only get a little more than half of the wages of women. It didn't work out anyway. My wife keeps all my profits. Do you have a bank account where you come from? Where do you come from?"

I thought there is no harm in telling part of the truth.

"No my wife has all my money, and I come from a country called Britain".

"I've never heard of Bri-tain. Mind you they don't teach men much. They say we aren't intelligent enough. Just how to read and write. Then it's cooking and cleaning. Are all men allowed trousers where you're from?"

"Well, only with their wife's permission."

I lied as I wanted to find out more about how this society worked. The women were still females, albeit, bigger and stronger than the men. The men were still biological males. They just seemed to fill what in my world, in the twentieth century anyway, would be typical female roles.

"So who runs this country then?"

"The prime minister Shelly Mellor."

"Did you vote for her"

He almost collapsed in fits of laughter.

"Men, Vote? Are you mad? I know there are dangerous men's liberationists that say we should get the vote, but we are too emotional to be given the vote. What do we know of running the country?"

"Don't tell me you can vote in Bri-ton, or wherever you come from" He said.

"No, I just thought it may be different here. Do you live here in town?"

"I live about five miles away."

"Do you drive or walk?"

"How could I drive? Men aren't allowed to drive. Can you drive then?"

"I can if my wife is sitting next to me"

I lied again, trying to calm him.

"I wish I could drive, I have to walk past the pub at the top of the street. Those horrible drunken women say awful sexual things to me. One slapped my bottom last week, and groped me!. I reported it to the police. She said I must have been asking for it, and called me a little tease."

"Did you tell your wife?"

"Yes, but she called me a dirty slut and beat me. She put me over her knee, and lifted my skirt. The next thing I knew my knickers were around my ankles and she was spanking me. While I was crying she dragged me to the bedroom and made me do things. "

I could tell he was upset remembering this, but I thought surely this was against the law here. I was angry someone could be treated like this.

"Why the hell didn't you go to the police and report your wife?"

"What for? Many women say it's a good thing to beat your husband it keeps him in line."

"What about her raping you then? They will have to do something about that."

"A wife cannot be convicted of raping her husband, being married means consent. Everyone knows's that."

There was a loud noise from the back of the shop. I saw the shape of a huge woman, almost eight feet tall storming towards us from the back of the shop.

"Oh my god, it's my wife."

She glared at me, and looked at Steven.

"What the hell are you doing talking to men's lib perverts like this? Is that what you are now? Will you be burning your knickers next? Wait until I get you home, I'll beat this nonsense out of you."

Steven cowered in the corner.

She looked at me.

"You are coming to the police station now"

At her size, she could accomplish this easily.

She made a grab for me and my self-defense training kicked in. I grabbed her palm with both hands and twisted violently.

She screamed. The look of shock on her face was priceless. I'm sure she had never had a man hurt her before. She backed away looking horrified. I knew in a real fight she could probably take me. I decided to press my advantage. I screwed my face up into a mask of pure hate.

I pointed at Steven's wife and tried my best to sound menacing.

"I am the spirit of vengance. Treat this man with respect or I will haunt you until your dying day."

Steven cowered and stared at me. He could not believe what he had seen.

I pushed the recall button and watched the horror on their faces as they saw me fade away. Then I was back in the lab. That dimension had no useful technology for us. I just hoped I had made Steven's life a little better.

Promising that a full report on my short trip would be finished in the morning, I drove home.

What a horrible world to live in. A vile place for men to have to live in anyway. Men were second-class citizens. I thanked god I Iive in our more enlightend world where injustice like that doesn't happen.

At home, I started my report while researching human rights online to help with the terminology. By the end of the night, I felt a little differently.

Until June 2018, Saudi Arabia women were forbidden from driving. Women were not allowed to vote until the twentieth century. But then again nor where non property owning men.

Very few legal systems allowed for the prosecution of rape within marriage before the 1970s.

American women needed their husband's permission to open a bank account as recently as the 1960s, and it wasn't until 1975 and the Sex Discrimination Act that a British woman could open a bank account in her own name.

The gender pay gap is almost nonexistent in the 21st century due to laws, but it did exist in the 20th century.

Married women were not legally entitled to own landed property until the passing of the Married Women's Property Act in 1870 and the Married Women's Property Rights Act in 1882.

After writing the report, I realised that if I was a woman living perhaps 100 years ago. I would have to put up with a lot of what Steven did.

This story is not meant to be "preachy", just a little thought provoking.

I promise another chapter of "You're my wife now" soon.