Parallel Lives Pt. 03

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!"

"Hah! In your dreams, Janet!" he fired back, adding a slightly flirtatious wink of his own. "See you tomorrow!"

"Cheerio, Johnny, have a nice day!"

"I'll try!"

Leaving the coffee shop behind, he strolled the short distance towards Kentish Town tube station, sipping his hot beverage along the way. He knew Janet's banter was supposed to be jovial and fairly innocuous in intent, but some days it did grate on him somewhat and there had been some mornings when he was in such a bad mood that he'd come close to slapping her and telling her exactly what he thought of her lustful and flirtatious ways. But today wasn't one of those mornings -- the sun was coming up at last and it promised to be a nice day.

Johnny put Janet's habitual flirting to the back of his mind as he tapped his Mussel Card on the scanner by the ticket gate and made his way down onto the subterranean platform. His commute to the office was fairly straightforward but there was always the gauntlet of wandering female hands to run through along the way. Most days he felt at least one hand patting his bottom, and occasionally two at the same time. Sure enough, not long after boarding the southbound Northern Line train, which was standing room only as per usual, he felt the unmistakable feeling of a hand squeezing his derrière.

One of these days, he thought to himself, one of these days I shall turn and slap whichever randy woman is touching me.

Thankfully, for the second part of his commute after changing trains at Tottenham Court Road, Johnny managed to get a seat on the much more spacious train on the recently opened Elizabeth Line, thus saving him from a second bout of being touched, and he passed the remainder of his journey to the office in relative comfort. After having been delayed for several years, the Elizabeth Line had finally opened a couple of years earlier, and had eased overcrowding on routes headed from east to west through the capital. Despite there being much less chance of being touched inappropriately, he could still overhear the lustful words of some nearby female passengers.

"Wouldn't you just love to get a look at his equipment!" he heard one woman a few seats away quietly remark to one of her fellow commuters. "What I would give to get a peek at what he's got in his pants! I'll bet it's a real beauty!"

"What that boy needs is a good seeing-to!" quipped another older woman nearby. "I'd spank his bare bottom like it's never been spanked before!"

Disgusting, Johnny thought to himself. But as always, he kept his feelings to himself -- it was unmanly to draw attention to oneself and to create a scene. It was just easier to try and tune the harridans out. So to that end he popped in his wireless earbuds and listened to the latest episode of one of his favourite podcasts.

By the time he arrived at Canary Wharf station the sun was up at last, but it was still bitterly cold and as he stepped back out into the cold winter air it made him shiver for a moment. From the station it was just a short walk to the building where he worked under the auspices of his boss, Mrs. Louise Martinsen.

Securing his job as her PA had been quite a coup for him - she might only have been a fairly junior executive at Wharfside Productions, but it was a foot in the door towards hopefully bigger and better things. As a boss, Martinsen had been good to him - not once had she made a pass at him or touched him inappropriately, and she always came to his aid whenever one of his more amorous colleagues decided to try their luck with him. It was safe to say he enjoyed working with her, and he felt that together they made a pretty good team. Times had been fairly lean of late however, but then things were usually quieter at that time of year as the corporate sphere gradually wound down before the festive period.

"Morning, Tami," he greeted the young Anglo-Japanese woman who worked behind the reception desk.

"Good morning, Johnny," she replied brightly. "Had a nice weekend?"

"Not bad - had a bit of a quiet one really. Went out for lunch with a friend on Saturday and then did a bit of shopping in the West End, but stayed in most of Sunday and just spent most of the time playing games."

"Sounds like a pretty successful weekend then!" Tami replied with her usual smile. "Your boss was asking for you, by the way. She asked me to tell you to come into her office as soon as you get in."

"Okay, Tami, thanks for letting me know," he responded.

This was not an unusual occurrence - it usually only meant that she had some important task or other for him to get stuck into before getting on with his normal duties. Whistling a jaunty tune, he stepped into the lift that would whisk him up to the floor where the offices of Wharfside Productions was located.

Stepping out onto his floor a few moments later, he passed through the domain of his colleagues in their individual cubicles and made his way to his desk situated just outside his boss's corner office. It had all the hallmarks of just another day in the office, but unbeknownst to him as he passed the cubicles, his day was about to get much more interesting.

"Morning, Mrs. M," Johnny said brightly as he poked his head around the door to greet his boss. "Tami said you were asking after me."

Mrs. Martinsen looked harried and slightly frantic that morning.

"Oh, Johnny, thank goodness you're here," she said. "Come in and close the door please."

"What's the matter?" he asked as he did as she instructed, immediately sensing that something was amiss.

"I need your help," she said as she sat behind her desk. "Something's come up - it's a, er... a family matter."

"It's not Jake, is it?"

"No, he's fine. It's my sister though - she's been in an accident."

Jake was his boss's nephew whom she utterly doted on - he'd recently celebrated his eighteenth birthday, having reached the age at which the Anderson-Swift's virus no longer posed a serious threat to his life. It would be especially tragic therefore, if something serious were to happen to him just as he had reached such an important milestone of survival.

"She was on her way home from work yesterday when some idiot pulled out in front of her," she explained. "Went straight into the back of her - she has a broken arm and leg but mercifully she's not in any real danger. She'll be needing someone to be with her for at least the next few days to help out around the house until we can arrange for something a bit more regular during her recovery, and of course Jake's busy at university all the way up at St. Andrews, so it'd be unfair to have to drag him away from his studies."

"Well, that's okay, Mrs. M - I don't mind keeping things ticking over here while you're away," Johnny answered.

"Good, I knew I could count on you, Johnny," Martinsen went on. "You've always been such a good team player. There's something else though, something much more important I need your help with while I'm away."

He couldn't help but notice how much emphasis she'd placed on the words "team player."

"Yes, Mrs. M?"

"It's the Verbier deal - I need you to do a massive favour for me."

The Verbier Media Corporation, one of the biggest entertainment industry corporations in the world, had been negotiating a non-hostile takeover of Wharfside Productions he worked for as part of their expansion into the European marketplace. To that end, they'd sent a delegation to London to finalise the deal - the multi-million pound takeover would help secure hundreds of jobs for years to come.

"What sort of favour?" he asked her tentatively.

"It's nothing much really," Martinsen assured him. "I just need you to take my place tonight."

Now it came flooding back to him - the board of directors had tasked his boss with keeping the Americans entertained during their stay in London, and one of the activities Martinsen had organised was to take in a show in the West End that evening. It wasn't critical to sealing the deal but it was a big responsibility nonetheless.

"Tonight?" he asked her.

"I'd go if I can, but my sister can't manage by herself at the moment - would you mind taking them to the theatre for me?"

"I... well, I..."

"Unless you already have plans," Martinsen added.

"Well, not as such," Johnny replied honestly. "But, aren't I a bit too junior to be doing something so important? I'm just a PA after all. I mean, they haven't completed the deal yet, and if anything goes wrong I don't want to be the one responsible for jeopardising anything."

"Look, I'll be honest with you, Johnny - tonight is quite important - not critical, but important nonetheless. We need to show the Verbier people that we can accommodate them in whatever way they want, so the directors gave me the personal responsibility for keeping them happy while they're here in the UK.

"I've bent over backwards to keep them sweet over the past couple of days, but I'm not asking you to do anything that might compromise the securing of the contract - all I'm asking is for you to accompany them to the theatre tonight and make sure they get back to their hotel safely afterwards."

"Well, as long as that's all there is to it," Johnny responded to his boss's assurances. "Then I guess I can manage it. Got to be a "team player", right?"

"That's the spirit!" Martinsen smiled. "I know I can count on you, Johnny! I'll let you get off an hour early today so that you can go home and get ready. Be sure to be wearing something nice - not too fancy, just nice and smart."

"Formal but not too formal," Johnny supposed. "I think I can manage that."

"We've already organised a car, and it will pick you up outside your place at half past five. The Verbier people will meet you in the main lounge of The Winchester at six o'clock," Martinsen continued. "From there you'll accompany them for a few drinks before the show. After the show just make sure they get back to their hotel safely - that's all there is to it."

"Okay," Johnny replied. "I'll do my best, Mrs. M."