The toxic straight male virus

toxic straight male virus

“Sir, there is another individual here to see you about Avalon. Claims his…um apparatus is in working order” Jeffrey, my butler, announced as he placed my nightcap on the coffee table.

I paused the TV for the first time that day. I was watching a rerun of one of the seasons of my TV show “Style fails for the straight males’ from what seemed like a lifetime ago. I liked this particular episode, I had done a brilliant makeover for a mid-west truck driver if I do say so myself. And he had had the audacity to tell me Pocket squares were not a necessity in his line of work. It was memories like these that made me think that perhaps the epidemic was justified. I am sure this truck driver was amongst the first wave of victims claimed by the virus.

“Ehm…ehm..” Jeffery cleared his throat. Being a man good old Jeff had also fallen victim to the TSM virus, but had somehow managed to maintain his will to clean up and look after me, which was all for the best. But it did make one wonder which way the butler swung in such matters, not that that was a question that could be discussed obviously. I had simply placed him in that esoteric basket of asexuality, shuddered at the thought of it and moved on.

“I am sure he is just another faker, Jeff. And I would rather just hand myself over to the women that stare at another limp dick. And if that statement doesn’t sum up the depravity of our situation, nothing ever will” I sipped on my cognac.

“Very well sir, I will see the young man out,” Jeff said. I went back to watching the re-run because what else was left to do? There was a rapping sound on the window, which I ignored. There was a news flash running around the bottom of the screen, the ‘proper pronouns’ were at it again, hunting men that seemed to move too fast or peed standing upright.

There was a crash and a rock landed near the coffee table. I stared at it for a while and would have ignored it if it weren’t for the cold blowing in through the window. “Mr Fiery…hey, I know you are in there…’ someone was shouting from outside the window. For the hundredth time, I regretted having Jeff send out feelers through the underground that I possibly knew the way to Avalon the last male bastion of uninfected survivors. So far all the clowns who had shown up were just desperados trying to survive. I sighed and forced myself to my feet and waddled to the window.

I did a gasp that was so dramatically perfect I missed the camera. There standing on my front lawn was a naked man with a raging hardon. “I am the real deal…” he shouted framing his erection with his hands. I fell down to my knees, tears welled up in my eyes and my lower chin quivered with the rapture. I had forgotten how long it had been since I had seen one in real life, seen such a display of unapologetic masculinity. I must admit I lost myself and just stared.

The man too stood there looking at me and back at his member until his flag began to waver a little, “so you gonna let me in or what?” he said shivering in the cold night. I shouted for Jeeves.

A few minutes later we were sitting in the living room, the heat was turned up to the highest. The young man sat on a sofa, covered in a blanket, sipping some soup. Jeff was off to find some clothes that would fit the young man.

“I am Dev…” he smiled at me, “and I will be humanity’s Savior”.

There it was that undeniable cockiness, that I would have smirked at earlier and now felt like a warm shower.

Dev was a short Asian, most likely Indian. He was dark, hairy and had the most average features. So this is what had survived the attack from the ‘toxic straight male virus’. The old boys over at Avalon had a very different image of masculinity, tall, well built, ruggedly handsome and most likely white. And I bristled with the realization that even I had shared in that ideal.

“So will there be like a military escort for me or what? This soup can definitely be better.” Dev said sipping his soup.

Well, the entitlement was on point.

“So you have never been infected with the virus so far?”

He looked up at me and gave a cocky smile, “Even better I was infected…”

“But that’s impossible, that would mean…” I stood up despite myself.

“Yup, I was infected and I survived, it looks like I am resistant.” He spread himself on the sofa letting the blanket slip off, proclaiming his manhood as a sort of banner for the resistance.

He definitely did not lack in the overconfidence department. I smiled at the thought that this was what women were trying to eradicate. And of course, I had to help just to thwart that.

“How did you survive the ‘proper pronouns’?” I said.

A shiver passed over his face and his flag wavered a little, “I just learned to behave like a politically correct zombie. It was easier said than done. But I managed to fool them till I got here

..” he smiled and managed to raise the flag again.

Yes, he was a certified asshole, but boy did it feel good to see a man sport an erection in such a shameless manner. This was how things were intended to be, I just wished the proper pronouns could see us now.

Jeff arrived with clothes and the flag was folded away for the moment.

“Ok Dev,” I said feeling something close to excitement for the first time after I was infected, “let’s get you to Avalon!”

Photo by Nathan Wright on Unsplash

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