Parallel Lives Pt. 03

The audience, and Mrs. Connor in particular, appeared enraptured as Godiva removed his tunic, leaving him topless. His bare chest was a sight to behold - his physique was that of a young man in the absolute prime of life, with pleasingly defined pectorals and a hint of a six-pack. Even his navel caused Mrs. Connor to feel a frisson of excitement within her.

"Her greed, her greed, her need for coin, for gold, for silver - it knows no bounds!" he continued to sing, all the while continuing to disrobe. "I must do this! I must do this! I must shame myself in this way! To show her the suffering of her people, to show her the error of her ways!"

The mournful song continued building towards a soaring crescendo as Godiva slowly but surely continued his striptease, and as the ballad reached its stirring climax, with Godiva down to just a simple loincloth that he began to slowly unfurl, Johnny felt something. He looked down to see Mrs. Connor's hand upon his thigh. Her gaze however was very much focused on the young man on stage just a few metres away from them as he performed his striptease. He didn't know what to do - whether to force her hand away and chastise her for touching him in such an inappropriate manner, or to ignore it. He opted for the latter, as ever reluctant to do anything that might jeopardise the takeover deal. And besides, he was used to being touched much more intimately on his daily commute, and though definitely unwelcome, her touch was less gratuitous than the way the women on the tube usually groped him.

With a final flourish and a climactic chord from the orchestra, Godiva cast his loincloth away and stood before the audience as naked as the day he was born. An uproarious round of applause sounded as every woman in the audience gleefully took in the sight of the handsome nude man displaying himself so candidly up on the stage. Mrs. Connor enthusiastically joined in with the applause, which mercifully took her hand away from Johnny's thigh.

Johnny looked down at the naked actor on stage with mixed feelings - admiration for the performer's confidence in displaying himself entirely nude before a mainly female audience of over two thousand people, and mild revulsion at the blatant objectification of it all.

The scene ended just as Godiva's young manservant returned to the bedchamber to inform his master that his horse was ready. The lad gasped in shock as he witnessed his master's nakedness. There was a brief period of dialogue between them before another musical number followed, this time a duet between Godiva and his manservant as the boy pleaded with his master not to go through with humiliating himself by riding naked through the streets of the town. At its conclusion, the stage went dark and the curtain descended, setting the scene for the fourth and final act of the show.

A few moments later, the curtain rose again, revealing once more the scene of the town. At the beginning of the show the townsfolk were shown as being a merry and well fed population, but now they were shown as looking dejected and emaciated after years of living under the exorbitant taxation of Godiva's wife, the greedy Lady Lefric, Countess of Mercia. The town also appeared dilapidated and ramshackle with its timber-framed buildings gradually falling into disrepair. Another song was sung by the cast, a pitiful and mournful dirge of the people's suffering as the peasants and serfs laboured to satisfy their landowner's greed and her bullying gang of tax collectors.

At the end of it all, into the scene on a pristine white mare, guided by the young manservant, rode the naked Lord Godiva. He was met with a mixture of shock and disbelief from the dejected townsfolk, who then crowded around him as the horse came to a stop in the middle of the stage, and he sung a song about why he was riding naked through the town in protest of his wife's greedy ways.

The show's final act concluded as Godiva's naked display in the town drew the attention of Lady Lefric's guards who immediately alerted their mistress to the commotion. As she stormed into the town's square in a state of blind fury demanding her husband cover his nakedness immediately, he calmly drew her attention to the ramshackle state of the town and what her greedy taxes were doing to the hard working people there. Then there followed yet another song as Godiva dismounted his white steed and pleaded with his wife as he knelt before her, to change her ways and free the people of the town from the heavy burden of her taxes. After hearing his pleas and being forced to bear witness to her people's suffering, Lady Lefric announced that she would cut the taxes and free the people from their poverty.

"Your soul shall be far richer if your people are happy," Godiva sang joyfully to his wife as he stood. "Their joy shall be far more valuable than any coin or piece of gold."

And then Lady Lefric, Countess of Mercia, pulled her naked husband to her breast and hugged him, and they kissed as the crowd of now happy townsfolk applauded and cheered around them.

After the emotional conclusion of the story came the show's much anticipated show-stopping finale. The orchestra launched into a climactic anthem as the townsfolk danced and sang joyfully around the still embracing Godiva and his wife. All the men in the town, at least those that were actually being played by male performers, began taking off their clothes and throwing them all across the stage. They danced and sang, revelling in their nakedness with their penises flapping around wildly as they formed a chorus line, and the audience cheered as no less than twenty five completely naked men danced and sang before their eyes. Godiva joined in for the final chorus as the music reached a soaring crescendo before the production concluded with one last climactic chord and the nude performers froze in a gratuitous pose with their arms and legs outstretched as though mimicking Leonardo Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. As far as Johnny was concerned, it was pretty much the most tasteless thing he'd ever been forced to bear witness to.

The curtain descended and the audience applauded and cheered and rose to their feet in a standing ovation. The curtain rose once more as the principal cast made their curtain calls and took their bows, flanked on either side by the still naked men of the chorus line. The largest round of applause was reserved for Lord Godiva himself, and as he took his bow still completely naked, a bouquet of flowers was tossed onto the stage at his feet. He picked the bouquet up and then gave the audience one final bow and blew a kiss before the curtain descended one final time and the house lights were brought back up.

Suite Surrender

The limousine picked them up outside the theatre, ready to whisk them back to the Winchester Hotel on Park Lane, and as Johnny sat in the back seat he felt that his work was almost done -- Mrs. Connor had clearly enjoyed her evening, and all he had to do was make sure she got back to her hotel safely.

"Thank you, Johnny," she said to him as she briefly placed her hand upon his knee. "I've had a wonderful time tonight - the show definitely lived up to my expectations."

"I'm pleased you had a good time, Mrs. Connor," Johnny replied courteously, though he felt a little alarmed at her physical contact.

"Oh, please, call me Susan - there's really no need for us to be so formal," she responded as her hand moved up from his knee towards his thigh.

"Er, yes, of course, er, Susan," Johnny answered as he looked down upon her wandering hand.

The car wended its way through the rainy city streets before pulling up outside the exclusive Winchester Hotel once again.

"Would you like to come up to my suite for a little nightcap?" Mrs. Connor suggested as the car came to a halt on the forecourt.

"I, er... I don't know if I should," Johnny stammered as once again Connor's hand caressed his inner thigh, coming dangerously close to his crotch.

"Please?" the wealthy American businesswoman implored with a slight pout of her lips. "It's been so nice spending time with you tonight - I'd just like to express my gratitude."

"Just for a drink?" Johnny iterated, seeking some assurance of her intentions.

He didn't want it to one of those kind of nightcaps.

"Just a drink," Mrs. Connor confirmed. "I promise."

Johnny weighed the options in his mind. It's just a nightcap in her suite, he told himself, just an opportunity to wind up the evening with a couple of drinks.

"Well, okay then," he acquiesced after several moments of consideration. "I'd like that."

"Excellent!" Connor responded gleefully.

They exited the car and Mrs. Connor dismissed the driver with a hefty tip.

"I'll have a cab sent here to take you home when you're ready," Connor explained as Johnny watched the limousine pull away with a mild feeling of alarm. "It's already late and it's not fair on the driver to keep her waiting for us."

Johnny followed her as she entered the hotel. The concierge, this time a slightly older woman but still in the same smart uniform, held the door open as they went in. Connor guided him towards the lift, a rather clunky and old fashioned means of elevation but with a distinct old world charm in keeping with the rest of the building. All the while in the confines of the old elevator, Johnny felt a distinctly increasing feeling of unease. Are this woman's intentions entirely honourable? He thought to himself. What if she tries to entice me into more than just a couple of drinks? He had to remind himself why he was there, to see the bigger picture - the takeover deal.

"Come on in and make yourself comfortable," Connor said as she invited him into her suite.

Johnny gasped as he took in the lavishly appointed room in all its sleek Art Deco splendour. He of course immediately compared it with his own small apartment on Kentish Town Road and worked out that the entirety of his modest rented accommodation would easily fit into one half of the lounge area alone.

Mrs. Connor locked the door behind her and then stepped over to the drinks cabinet. She opened the frosted glass doors to reveal a veritable cornucopia of alcoholic spirits, liqueurs, mixers and various little bowls of olives, cocktail cherries, lemons, limes and various other garnishes.

"I mix a pretty good Martini, d'you fancy one?" she offered.

"I've never had one before," Johnny confessed. "Being a country boy I'm afraid I've had a bit of a sheltered upbringing where cocktails are concerned."

"Then allow me to pop your Martini cherry!" she chuckled, and set about preparing the cocktail of gin and vermouth. "Take a seat - make yourself at home."

"Er, sure," he answered, accepting her invitation.

He watched from one of the smart chrome framed leather couches as his hostess measured out the ingredients and stirred the mixture.

"Orange bitters," she announced as she picked up a smaller third bottle containing a dark orange-brown liqueur and added a small measure into the mix before giving it a final stir. "You can't mix a decent Martini without orange bitters."

Using a strainer to prevent the ice from further diluting the cocktail, she poured the mixture into two glasses. She popped an olive into each glass and then went over to join him in the lounge area. She handed Johnny his glass, and rather than sit opposite him on the other couch, she surprised him by sitting right next to him.

"And forget all that Jane Bond "shaken, not stirred" nonsense," she went on. "A proper Martini should always be stirred. Cheers," she said, holding her glass up.

"Cheers, um, what are we drinking to?" Johnny replied.

"How about to a successful partnership between VMC and Wharfside Productions?"

"Er, sure, I guess that makes sense," Johnny replied. "To a successful partnership."

And with that, they clinked their glasses and took a sip. The Martini was much stronger than anything Johnny would normally drink, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant and the orange bitters gave the concoction a pleasant citrus finish that tingled on his tongue.

"Well, it's sure been a long day," Connor said as she took another sip and then placed her glass on the sleek polished chrome glass-topped coffee table. "Would you mind if I disappear for a moment to put something a little more comfortable on?"

"Er, yeah, sure, um, go right ahead, er, Susan," Johnny replied.

"I'll be back in what you Brits call a jiffy," she responded with a smile. "Don't go anywhere now," she added as she rose, giving his thigh a brief stroke as she got to her feet.

She sauntered off into the adjoining bedroom, leaving Johnny alone in the lounge.

"Don't get in this above your head, Johnny," he told himself quietly, realising that he was definitely a little tipsy. "Just a couple of drinks, nothing more. If she tries to get too carried away just give her a slap and get the hell out of here."

Johnny sat and sipped his drink - the more of it he drank, the more he found himself enjoying the concoction. However, all the while as he waited on the couch for Mrs. Connor to return, the more nervous he began to feel. Nerves that weren't eased at all when the bedroom door opened a few minutes later.

"There, now that feels much better," Mrs. Connor announced.

Johnny's eyes almost popped out - she was stood there in the doorway wearing nothing more than a pristine white lace bra and matching panties.

"M-M-Mrs. C-Connor?!?" he gasped, almost spilling his Martini with the shock of seeing the older woman stood before him in only her obviously expensive lingerie.

"You like?" she asked him as she twirled around. "I bought them today in a little lingerie shop in Bond Street - and I bought them just to look my best for you."

"I'm sorry, you did what?" Johnny responded, utterly discombobulated by the sudden turn of events.

"I bought them for you," she responded as she sauntered sultrily across the room and sat down beside him on the couch. "To look nice and sexy for you."

As soon as she sat beside him, Johnny shuffled away from her.

"Ooh, playing hard to get, huh? Your boss said you might!" Connor chuckled, placing her hand upon his thigh and stroking up and down. "But she promised me you'd be a good boy, a real "team player" and help this lonely Yankee feel nice and loved so far away from home."

And then, with a suddenness that made all the blood rush from his face leaving him feeling light-headed, it all fell into place. How could I have been so stupid to have fallen for it? He thought to himself, apocalyptically angry both at himself and at his boss. Hell, I doubt Mrs. M's sister has even been in an accident at all! It became blatantly clear now that he was being used as a bargaining chip to sweeten the takeover deal.

"I want to go home - now!" Johnny said angrily, slamming his Martini glass on the coffee table. "I didn't sign up for this!"

"Oh, please don't go," Mrs. Connor pouted. "It'd be a shame for us to have to take our business elsewhere."

"You... you what?" Johnny responded.

"I'm sure the people at CitiMedia will be much more... accommodating," Connor said, in a voice that was both sultry and ever so slightly menacing at the same time.

CitiMedia was one of Wharfside Production's biggest rivals, and it was no secret that the company had recently made advances towards the Verbier Corporation to form a new Anglo-American partnership. Johnny was just utterly dumbstruck - what the fuck was going on?

"C'mon, sweetie-pie, just do this one little thing for me and I'll make sure my colleagues sign on the dotted line tomorrow," Connor went on. "Just think of how pleased Mrs. Martinsen will be with you tomorrow for being such a good "team player.""

"She... said I would... d-do this?" Johnny asked her.

"Look, I'm gonna lay my cards on the table here, honey," Mrs. Connor said, her tone changing to one that conveyed more gravitas and sincerity. "Our corporate president, Mrs. Verbier is on the brink of pulling out of the deal with Wharfside Productions and going with CitiMedia instead - that's kind of why my fellow board members didn't want to come to the theatre tonight and would rather drown their sorrows in the bar -- but as Mrs. Verbier's closest confidant I'm the only one who can convince her that the deal with Wharfside Productions is definitely worth it. Which it is, by the way - Wharfside Productions is on paper by far the better option - but in order for me to convince her I'm going to have to be in the right frame of mind. And I'm always in the right frame of mind after I've enjoyed a nice wholesome roll in the sack with a handsome young man. A handsome young man who just happens to be you right now."

"And my boss told you I'd do it, huh?" Johnny supposed aloud. "She promised you I'd just casually drop my pants and have sex with you? I'm not just some kind of cheap slut, y'know - I'm a university graduate, for pity's sake!"

"I never said you were a cheap slut," Connor responded defensively. "But y'know it'd be such a shame to put all those other folks' jobs in jeopardy," Connor added, piling on the emotional blackmail.

Johnny was furious - he was caught between a rock and a hard place. His boss, who had always been so good to him since he'd joined the company and who had stuck up for him whenever his over-sexed colleagues tried to make passes at him and harass him in the office, was now basically whoring him out to act as leverage in a business deal. Johnny knew what he should do - he knew he should just get up and walk out of there with his dignity intact, and immediately report Mrs. Martinsen to HR in the morning. That's what he should do, he reasoned.

But then, what if Mrs. Connor was being serious about of all those other people's jobs? The production teams, the camera operators, lighting technicians, electricians, set designers, location scouts, casting managers - hell, even the catering crews - all of their livelihoods would be at stake if this takeover deal with the Verbier Media Corporation fell through. Did he really have it in him to refuse to have sex with Mrs. Connor in order to preserve his own dignity at the risk of all those redundancies? Mrs. Martinsen had assured him that his role in entertaining the American delegation wasn't critical to the success of the deal, but now he knew that it was very critical indeed.

Johnny sighed, feeling an overwhelming sense of resignation and apoplectic fury at the situation he was being presented with.

"Okay," he reluctantly acquiesced, and turned to face the powerful American businesswoman. "You win - I'm all yours."

Connor smiled at him wantonly, a smile that almost immediately made him feel disgusted at himself for surrendering to her.

"Well, then come over here, honey, and let me see what I have to play with tonight," she said luridly. "Let's get those pants off!"

"Yes, Mrs. Connor," Johnny said despondently, and stood before her.

Straight away she began unfastening his belt, and in only a few moments she had unzipped his flies and taken his trousers down.

"Ooh, I like your underwear!" she chuckled. "I always think a guy looks good in boxer briefs - makes his package look real nice!"

Johnny gulped as he felt her hands take hold of the waistband of his underpants.

"I feel like we ought to have a drum roll!" Connor grinned.

Just get on with it, woman! Johnny thought to himself. The sooner I'm done and out of here the better!

Mrs. Connor yanked his pants down, revealing his male parts for her eager eyes.

"Ooh, very nice!" she cooed in appreciation.

She looked up at him and smiled broadly and lasciviously.

"You have a very nice dick, Johnny," she said, wantonly. "A very nice dick indeed!"