Parallel Lives
In case you haven't read Parts One and Two (and why on earth haven't you?), a brief introduction to set the scene...
The year is 2025, and in a parallel universe to our own, men have become endangered. A virus - commonly known as Anderson-Swift's Disease, after the Victorian scientist who originally identified it - that attacks the male immune system, has resulted in a world where only one in five boys survive into adulthood. Those that are fortunate to live to the "survival milestone" of eighteen years of age find themselves living in a world where they are greatly outnumbered by women. As an unfortunate side effect of the virus, men who survive to adulthood also find themselves rendered infertile by the effects of the disease. However, a small percentage of men experience a temporary window of fertility - an opportunity for procreation that simply cannot be allowed to be wasted.
With so relatively few adult men to go around, it is no wonder that the sexual marketplace has changed beyond recognition. Sex-starved women hound and pursue men for sex, causing men to have to take measures to protect themselves from unwanted advances, and in some cases, being raped. Men now find themselves in what has become a woman's world.
This story follows a group of young people living in this parallel universe where women greatly outnumber adult men.
In Part One we met two young men, Rupert and Kevin, who found themselves unwillingly being drafted into the Global Repopulation Program.
In Part Two, we got to know two young women, Claire and Kat, as they embarked on a journey to volunteer for the Repopulation Program, but not before enjoying an afternoon of indulgence with a couple of handsome "masseurs".
Now, in Part Three we meet Johnny, a young and enthusiastic personal assistant to a junior executive at a media production company in London, who is tasked with entertaining an important investor from across the pond, and discovering that she has more than just a trip to the theatre in mind.
It goes without saying that all the characters portrayed in this story are over 18 years of age, and any resemblance of any character or any company, or any thing for that matter, to anyone living or dead is entirely unintentional and totally coincidental. So there!
Right then, on with the story...
PART THREE - JOHHNY
No Ordinary Monday
Johnny Morgan blearily awoke as his alarm chirped beside his bed. He hated Monday mornings - especially during the winter months when it was still dark outside, and would still be dark for some time yet. Winter in Britain can be pretty depressing sometimes. Still, at least there was Christmas to look forward to - a bright beacon of seasonal joy amidst the dank drabness of grey skies, incessant drizzle and bone-chilling winds. It was one of the few times of year when he would spend a few precious days with his parents at his childhood home in rural Devon - a far cry from the busy rain-soaked streets of London where he now lived.
He knew how lucky he was to have a dad in his life, even if he wasn't his biological father. Like virtually all of his boyhood friends, most of whom had regrettably passed away, Johnny had been conceived in the Dartmoor Fertility Centre by a man drafted in to the Global Repopulation Program. But his mother subsequently met and married another man who would later adopt him as his own a few months after his birth. In contrast to his own good fortune, most of his friends never had a father figure in their lives - fatherless households were just another sad fact of life.
Though he loved his parents dearly, he cherished having his independence. He'd secured a steady albeit not especially well paid job amongst the gleaming skyscrapers of Canary Wharf as a personal assistant to a junior executive at a well-known media company, and rented a small apartment above a shop on the busy thoroughfare of Kentish Town Road. His working hours were long and the work sometimes tedious, but it was definitely worth it. Johnny found that he had come to love city life. He loved the frenetic activity of it all, the way that he could hop on a tube train or hail a taxi any time he wanted and be amongst the bright lights of the West End in a matter of minutes. He loved being a part of the huge multicultural melting pot that was London.
But life in the capital city came with its downsides too. Like almost all young men lucky enough to survive the Anderson-Swift's virus, he'd become fair game to any sex-hungry women that preyed upon him with their lustful eyes. To provide some personal protection he'd invested, as many of his contemporaries had, in a can of pepper spray and a rape alarm in order to feel in control of his personal safety whenever he was out on his own. He'd also purchased a chastity device for added protection, as was the wont of many of his fellow city boys. He hated wearing it, and just putting his penis into the thing every morning was an uncomfortable experience in itself, but it was a price worth paying, he always told himself, for the protection it afforded. Despite being the focus of unwanted female attention he actually quite enjoyed the feeling of power he had over the women that lusted after him - only those women that were worthy of his attention would get the pleasure of having him in her bed, and only he held the key to unlock himself. He loved playing hard to get.
After letting out a long and loudly vocal yawn, Johnny reluctantly got up and out of bed - coffee was needed, urgently, and the stronger the better! So he stepped into his little kitchen to drop a capsule of double espresso into his coffee machine and waited for a moment for it to deliver the caffeine hit he needed into the little white cup beneath its spout. Feeling a sudden chill reminded him that he was naked. Ever since he moved to London he habitually slept in the nude. It just felt so natural and maybe a little bit risqué too, but on a cold winter's morning before his flat's antiquated central heating kicked in, the shock of leaving his warm bed and stepping into the cold air of his apartment made him shiver. He briefly returned to his bedroom and quickly donned his bathrobe and slippers.
He returned to the kitchen just as the coffee machine bleeped to inform him that his cup of freshly processed Arabica double espresso was ready, and he eagerly and quickly downed the energy-infusing beverage. His bloodstream coursed with caffeine, causing him to finally feel properly awake.
"Ahhh," he sighed. "Thank God for coffee!"
He flicked on his TV to catch up with the latest news headlines, as he always did every morning.
"...was convicted yesterday of the rape and murder of two young men in Oxfordshire last July,"
the newsreader read from the autocue in front of her.
"In her summing up, Judge Elizabeth Crane called her a despicable and manipulative woman whose utter disregard for male life cut short the lives of two young men who, after surviving against all the odds to reach adulthood, were so callously cut down in their prime. She will be sentenced next Tuesday.
"The Minister for Transport had to fend off calls for her to resign yesterday following the allegations of misconduct made by a former intern during her time as a junior minister in the mid 1990's. The accuser, whose name cannot be made public due to legal reasons, alleged that she had repeatedly groped him over a six-month period. The Minister released a statement last night saying that she vehemently denied the allegations and would take whatever steps are necessary to prove her innocence.
"Sport now, and in the Premier League current leaders Manchester City suffered a crushing defeat to Southampton as they were ruthlessly taken apart five goals to nil by the south coast side. Despite this latest setback however, Man City head coach Marianne Dubois said after the match that she remains confident her side can retain their title..."
And so it went on in the background as Johnny fed his cat - a grey tabby he'd named Max that he'd taken in from a local animal shelter - and as the cat tucked in to his chunks of tuna and salmon in gravy he stroked Max's head, eliciting a contented purr.
With caffeine coursing through his veins he felt that his motor was finally in gear, and so he set about the rest of his normal daily routine. He showered first, then shaved, then he put himself into his chastity device, then he dressed himself, then had breakfast, then set out for another day at the office. It was always in that order, never once did he ever deviate from his routine. Except at weekends of course.
Some time later and feeling finally ready to face the day, he donned his favourite duffel coat, wrapped his university scarf around his neck, and checked his reflection in the mirror beside his front door to make sure he looked his best before setting off on his way to work. He closed and locked his door, and then headed down the stairs and out onto the street outside.
His first port of call was the same as always - the local coffee shop where he would have his reusable thermal cup filled with cappuccino with an extra shot of sugar-free vanilla syrup. The people who worked there all knew him by name, and the woman in charge of that particular branch of the nationwide coffee chain always flirted with him as she handed him his drink.
"I'll get you naked one day, sweet Johnny-boy," she said as she always did with a cheeky and slightly lustful wink. "One day I'll get you out of those smart clothes and into my bed!"
