Future Reflections

By Keith L Wright

A hundred years ago in civilised Britain a man could sell his wife at the local market for 5/-. In the last hundred years machines have taken over many of the manual tasks once performed physically by men. Indeed many women now undertake the jobs once preserved for men only. In schooling, girls frequently perform better than boys. In relationships, it can often be the woman who runs the family accounts and provides the income. This book, in fictional terms, explores the world where women have gone beyond equal rights and evolved into the dominant gender, leaving men behind mentally and socially.

The man in the story, David, largely enjoys being married to a senior executive with his only function in life to please his wife. He is a man and therefore has no real use in society other than to please women. One day his life is changed and he is forced into a world for which he is totally unprepared. How he deals with it and the effect it has on him is probably why this is only a work of fiction and although a hundred years ago one gender was totally dominant it is unlikely this will ever happen again.

The book will in parts shock you, it may make you laugh but certainly it will make you think

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Apr 8, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456777814

Book preview

Chapter 1

His face was still stinging from the first slap when the second blow hit him forcefully on the other cheek. His head began to spin, all he could hear was the blood rushing through his veins. What he was not prepared for, was the punch to the left side of the jaw, closely followed by one to the right.

His head hurt but he knew the more he was hit the more numb it became as the pain blurred into meaningless insignificance. He continued to offer the left side, knowing well that this was the slightly weaker side for his assailant and therefore less likely to do too much damage to him. He tried to get into a rhythm so that the punches and slaps could roll off him, and, for a while, this worked. Unfortunately, his assailant grew tired of this abuse, feeling it ineffective, so slammed alternate fists into his face. He could feel his nose bleeding profusely and swelling with every blow. He was finding it difficult to breath and his eyes were beginning to be less effective in seeking out the direction of the assault and making the necessary manoeuvre to guide the point of impact.

He was trying to think what had caused the punishment. It all seemed to happen so suddenly. He tried to review everything he had said or done over the last 2 hours but there was nothing he could find that would emerge from the mist to provide an outline of the cause of the attack. As far as he could understand everything had been normal.

The blows were cascading round his head regularly now but he was not feeling any pain, in fact he was not feeling much at all. Tears were filling his eyes and he could feel both of them closing slightly, making his pathetic attempts at controlling the situation even more difficult.

He lost his balance and fell backwards onto the hard polished wooden floor. In one flashing thought, he hoped he had not damaged the floor, as wood was an extremely expensive luxury. He knew if there was any damage he would be called responsible for it and there would be serious damage done to him, far worse than what he expected was going to happen now.

He laid there for a moment trying to clear his mind but all he could see was the ooze coming from his mouth and nose slowly spreading across the floor. He rolled into a foetal position trying the best he could to protect as much of his body as possible. He knew it achieved very little but simply adopting the posture of a baby helped to easy the burden of attack.

The first kick in the kidneys was expected but it still hurt enough to make him give out a scream of pain. Rather than slow the attack, it seemed to make it worse with several very hard kicks to the ribs. He felt at least one crack and tried not to breathe too deeply for fear of puncturing a lung.

A kick to the head was not so painful but he was now beginning to see spots dancing in front of him and he could see more blood mingling with the mess on the floor. He was getting worried as the kicks kept coming and he was terrified if he passed out he would have no defence at all. It was time to start sobbing and pleading for forgiveness. After years of experience he knew to start too early would only bring on more punishment.

He sobbed, sucking in air in short jerks, making sounds like a car engine trying to start. He howled, tears rolling, dropping on the floor making puddles in front of his eyes. His mouth was open, drawling for forgiveness.

A few more kicks and he know it would be all over, provided he could be convincing enough to show true remorse for whatever he had done or said. This was always very difficult as he rarely knew what had started it and only believed that he simply did not deserve this kind of punishment. He could smell his own blood and pain, but relief that it was nearing an end.

You useless fucking man, you do not deserve to live and waste your life, you fucking arsehole he heard over the buzzing in his now bleeding ears. You dare to beg for mercy, well I will decide when to stop. When I decide you have been fully punished for what you have done, you useless pile of shit. Don’t even bother to beg, you are such a waste of space I should kill you now and save the world from your presence.

‘Shit’ he thought, his mind, now becoming rather confused and groggy, his timing must have been wrong as the abuse grew louder and more vitriolic with each kick. He was seriously beginning to fear for his life. Fortunately, it stopped as soon as it had started with one final kick to the groin, which he had momentarily left unprotected in his attempts to stop his face being kicked to a pulp.

He lay on the ground relaxing and watching his tears, snot and saliva now mingling with the blood to form a congealing mess. He waited until his head cleared a little and mentally checked for damage, which he was now fairly adept at recognising. ‘Kidneys bruised but not damaged, two certain broken ribs, lungs not punctured and, miraculously, no broken nose’.

He raised himself carefully to a sitting position, his head pounding with a buzzing dizziness that added to the complete confusion of his mental state. He knew the attack was over as soon as he heard the barked instructions to the Hover lift. He rolled over and eased his body into a crouch and pushed with his hands to raise himself carefully to a standing position. He wobbled a little and took a deep breath to try to disperse the mist in his brain. The spots were shooting in front of his eyes rolling and dancing in a turgid cosmic show of lights. Slowly retreating, he hobbled to the Hover lift and croaked Cleansing Room. Unfortunately a computer system that is used by voice recognition did not recognise his voice, so nothing happened. Cursing, he cleared his throat and managed to give the forceful command in his normal voice and the lift arrived to carry him to rest and recuperation.

Chapter 2

It was not long after they were married that David’s wife started to spend longer and longer away from home. He had no idea how she spent her time and would not dare to ask. At first he was frightened to ask for anything but as time went by he became more aware of the boundaries and one day tentatively suggested it might be nice if he was granted permission to visit the pub on a regular basis. It was something he had been allowed to do with previous wives and he had built up a regular habit of friends.

Generally wives permitted this type of activity as they felt it showed a broad minded attitude towards their men, which was the current way of thinking. Fiona, always keen to give a good impression to her friends, was quick to grant such a freedom.

The Langham Place was a tall ancient room that had clearly deteriorated over the many years of its existence. Several attempts had been made to preserve it and other efforts had modernised bits that left it with no character or sense of period. Having said that, the lads believed it had its own scruffy charm and certainly attracted their own type of people. They had tried other places but this was where they kept returning. They had often debated the history of the name and Brian had always asserted it had some time in the past been associated with a group of political activists but even he could not convince his fellow imbibers.

David’s friends were a mixed group, all married fairly well but belonged to a variety of different wives.

Richard or Ricky had wild untamed hair and wore various tight tee shirts, generally leather trousers, matched by various piercings. He was married to a highly rated rock star who, when she was home, gave him ‘a really wild time’. None of the men understood her music but she was a serious figure amongst the more intellectual women. Ricky, in fact, was generally fairly quiet but like all of them, once the Guinness had taken hold, could be as noisy as the rest.

Brian always turned up at precisely 3.00 because that was the precise time they had agreed, whilst Peter arrived when he felt like it.

Morning all said David as he arrived at 3.15pm

Bit late today said Brian

Hey dude chirped Ricky.

Of course Peter had not yet arrived.

They were immediately attended by Rob with their usual pints.

Good morning gentlemen he said. I have a little story to start your day. There was this woman who went for an interview for a job. The board asked her name and she said Eva Knickersoff."

Eva Knickersoff said the chairman, so they did."

The lads laughed politely because they had heard it so many times before. Brian certainly never thought it was funny in the first place.

Whilst they were still smiling, Peter arrived and their combined expressions immediately changed.

Wow mate gasped Ricky you look terrible.

Peter was bruised all over his face, it seemed his nose was broken and he was limping. He eased himself carefully in the nearest chair and Rob arrived with his pint, looking appropriately concerned.

Without being asked, Peter knew they wanted the story.

You know what it is like he croaked, the wife being senior site foreman, she has some pretty tough fellow workers who do not support her. Also as you probably know site drones are just as difficult to manage as any human. They are programmed with the ability to think for themselves, allegedly in a limited way. I know she feels the programme was not quite right as their developed thinking process was not always limited to the work.

Well she had a really bad day at work, several of the drones disappeared off site for two hours making the work schedule behind. All the women on site blamed her, as foreman, saying it was her job to make sure the work was completed on time. By the time she got home she was so wound up she had to take it out on some thing and I just happened to be in the way. I thought about staying at home for a few days as normal but, what the hell, its not as if it doesn’t happen to others and I will be repaired within a few days.

The rest of them looked at him sympathetically and Dave, reverting to their secret language, said how is it things have come to this? I have heard that at one time we were all equal, in fact, I am not sure, but I believe at one time in the past men were actually considered superior.

Brian, of course, knew it all and they looked to him for an explanation, as their third pint arrived.

"The thing is we men brought it on ourselves. We treated our women badly and largely ignored them, apart, of course, for sex. We generally kept to all men groups watching football, drinking, and just selfishly enjoying ourselves, oblivious to what was happening.

Girls started to do better than boys at school and tended to receive the better education. They gradually got into high positions and slowly started to recruit more and more women into top positions, leaving the men for the more menial jobs. In the 1990s we had out first female Prime Minister by the name of Margaret Thatcher and, although it was a while before another woman came along, Mrs Thatcher set the tone for future dominance.

Men, at that time, were still necessary for the heavy work as, believe it or not, long ago they were stronger than women, simply because they had always done the heavy work so we built up our strength. Now, of course, most of the heavy work is done by robots and, due to new technology, those women that want to, can be as strong as they would like.

The other reason men were needed was for procreation but, thanks to science, developments there meant that women could chose the type of child they had and soon the sexual side was simply a matter of recreation. As you know even child birth is a thing of the past.

As women became more and more powerful they began to look at men in a different way. In the endless drive for efficiency and profitable development, men started to become a drain on the rations and the government looked at ways to alter the balance. Matters came to somewhat of a head with the Manchester City riots of 2065. The usual drink and drug fuelled football support spilled out of the heavily secured stadium and onto the streets. It is rumoured that several hundred women were killed and more raped and injured. Unsurprisingly there are no longer any statistics regarding the number of men killed or injured".

Rob arrived with another pint and, bewildered by the strange language they used and the intensity of concentration on the speaker, simply put the full glasses down and retired. It was his duty to report anything suspicious but, as they were good customers, and he could not really work out what to say he simply sat at the bar and listened.

Brian continued, as he carefully smoothed back his silver well groomed hair and smoothed down the collar of his expensive, but conservative jacket.

"The government, now mostly women, reacted immediately. All football was banned and it was forbidden for groups of more than 12 men to congregate at any time. The few remaining men in parliament were suspended indefinitely and any man still in a senior position was retired or demoted.

It was not long before men lost the vote entirely and the strict differential between female and male education started. With the invention of the in- ear implant that educated people whilst they were asleep, women were able to control the amount of knowledge and understanding men received. Hence, gentlemen, this is where we are today". Brian concluded leaning back in his chair daring anyone to challenge him.

Wow gurgled Peter let’s have another drink. Rob get your tin arse over here now.

Changing the subject quickly he turned to Ricky switching back to normal language So Ricky when is your wife coming back? I bet you can’t wait for all those new drugs and those days and days of crazy drug fermented sex.

Oh don’t Pete said Ricky wincing. The first few days are good but after that she just wants to keep going and even with all the latest pills a man can only go for so long. By then I am praying for sleep so that the quick healing processors can go to work and take away some of the soreness. I swear one day it will drop off completely.

They all laughed at him but were also sympathetic as they had all suffered similar exertion but not to the extent poor Ricky had.

Brian, although enjoying his Guinness like the rest of them, always seemed in control. It was not that the drink did not affect him, but he could never totally relax and let go. He would always leave at precisely 5.30, sometimes being amongst the earliest to go and occasionally being on his own until the appropriate time. When he entered the transporter there was never any discernable change to him. In fact, the lads had suggested that he was totally impervious to the soberer and if one day he did become helpless and let himself go he would return home in the same state.

When he arrived home his wife was always there and he would greet her with the usual respectful kiss on the cheek and enquire about her day. Her response was always to tell him to mind his own business followed by a tirade about wasting her hard earned money with his worthless friends. He knew she did not really mind as she was pleased to see him out of the way. He also knew that she was always able to stop him going if she really wanted to. He sometimes wondered what she got up to that was so secret it had to be undertaken in his absence. He was fairly sure she was on her own but he was never certain. It was an accepted practice that women of her standing had several mistresses and sometimes shared their friend’s husbands. He had certainly been loaned out on a number of occasions but there were often complaints about his lack of imagination in that department so it had not happened for a while. He was always rather put out by the complaints because he knew precisely what to do and when to do it. He had undertaken specific education and training in all the various practices and styles so there could not possibly be anything wrong with the way he satisfied the specified women. In fact, he took great care in ensuring before they commenced any activity he listed his offerings so the lady could chose whatever she desired, rather like a CV.

Chapter 3

David Harrington had been married for some time now and, on the whole, quite liked it. His wife was an extremely successful business woman and kept him in a life of luxury, or so she told him. As he had known nothing different he could only believe she was right. In fact, he always believed she was right. He had to of course, but whether it was just conditioning, or a sense of understanding, he did not know. He did feel that her superior education and intellect meant there was a good chance she was more right than his simple mind could be.

They had a fabulous apartment in the best part of town, or so they were told by the Estate Agent, but as they never went outside, they could only take her word