Paul Sanchez gets lucky (or does he?)

Sometimes the greatest disasters happen because people don’t realize just how stupid what they’re doing is. Anon.

Humanity’s extinction nearly happened because one man let his hatred blind him to his own stupidity. Upon being passed over for promotion at Dante Pharmaceuticals, Dr. Carl Sundersen decided he knew the cause. It wasn’t that he was a second-rate researcher who often skipped vital steps in his research (which he was, and yes, he did). No, the real reason he’d been passed over was because Kamala James had ‘gamed’ the system and used her status as a minority to cheat him out of the position. The fact that Dr. James had twice as many published works as he did meant nothing to Carl, nor did the fact that her work on DNA resequencing for cancer treatment had real promise. No, ‘that woman’, as he so often referred to his rival, had cheated him out of his due, and he would have his revenge!

For her part, Dr. James had no clue how much she was hated by Dr. Sundersen. She treated him no differently than any of the other people who worked with her, even speaking of how, now that she had a secure position in the company, she hoped to finally start a family. In that revelation, she gave Carl his avenue for vengeance. The company had been researching different viruses as delivery mechanisms for genetic material to cells, and Carl saw this as the perfect opportunity to strike back. In his spare time, he cobbled together a virus using one of the oldest to attack humanity: chickenpox. His decision was simple, because he remembered how, in adults, the disease could sterilize men. Carl planned to infect Dr. James, and through her, sterilize her husband. His virus would show none of the other external signs of it’s parent disease, thus masking it from effective treatment. It was the perfect plan…or so Carl thought.

Carl never thought to test his new virus. So he had no idea that what he’d brewed up in his lab was far more virulent than the original disease, nor that it was resistant to all existing anti-virus drugs. He had the pleasure of watching Dr. James become increasingly sad as she and her husband tried to conceive, but within a year, he shared in the shock of reports of a world-wide drop in birth rates. In less than two years, the birth rate had dropped to nearly zero…and the culprit was Carl’s virus, now out in the population worldwide. Tracing the disease back to its origins was basic epidemiology, and Carl knew it was only a matter of time before he was found out. When the authorities came to his lab, they found it locked, and Carl inside, dead by his own hands. All he left behind was a note, telling everyone how sorry he was, but blaming the disaster on Dr. James and the ‘unfair’ system.

But all was not lost. While the disease was spread through the entire population, and there was no indication that it could be wiped out, the birth rate did not drop to zero. Researchers found those women who were becoming pregnant, and found they too had been exposed, but their sexual partners were immune to the virus. The immunity traced back to a single genetic mutation, a mutation that passed down to the children fathered by those who carried it. But the number of people who carried the mutation was tiny, less than .001% of the population. Humanity’s continued existence, it turned out, hinged on these few men……..


Paul Sanchez had grown up wondering if he’d die single. He wasn’t tall, had been called “hefty” by even his parents (and any number of other, less flattering things by the children he’d grown up with) and knew that calling him clumsy would have been a compliment. Girls avoided him, even the plainest, and by the time he graduated high school, he was sure the only sex he would experience would be confined to him relieving himself to whatever porn he could find on the Internet. He settled into life as a cubicle dweller in an insurance claims department, content to the fantasize about the few desirable women who worked with him.

Then, with every other human, he’d been shocked to learn the existence of a disease that had swept, unseen, through the entire population. The news that a tiny handful of men were immune to the disease wasn’t important to him. He was sure that, like every other man, he was now sterile, not that it made a difference to him. But when it was announced that a genetic test had been developed to look for more men who possessed the mutation, he like every other man was expected to take the test so humanity might continue. Paul had no brothers, and his father had been dead since his teenage years, so until the moment the results came in, he had no idea he was one of that select few men who would serve as the basis for the continuation of humanity.

Overnight, Paul went from being regarded by women as a “Who?” to being one of the most desirable men on Earth. Losing his virginity had happened when when one of the most attractive women in the office had cornered him in a storage room and asked him to have sex with her. As word got around, more women came to him, sometimes more than one at the same time, leading to ugly scenes and open fighting.

It got worse. Given the low number of men available to produce children, the government moved to recruit those men into programs that would have reduced them to little more than living sperm banks, hooked to machines to extract the maximum ‘harvest’ possible. There were riots, chaos, and the plan was dropped. But the government did establish a data base of men who could father children, and it made those names available to the public. For Paul, it wasn’t as bad as being hooked up to a machine, but the improvement wasn’t all that great…….


The soft knock on the door was expected. Paul took a deep draw on the energy drink he’d opened and spoke. “Come in.” He sat on the rumpled bed he’d only been out of to go to the bathroom or eat for the last ten hours, watching the door open with exhausted indifference. The woman who entered wore one of the plain white terrycloth robe furnished by the spa. Her hair, a painfully bright blond that had to have come from some bottle, hung down past her shoulders. He looked at her face, noticing with a small amount of gratitude that it wasn’t ugly, and watched as she untied the robe and slipped it off. Paul noted with some satisfaction that his guess about whether her hair was its natural color or not was correct, but beyond noting that she wasn’t grotesquely obese, the other details of her body didn’t even register. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again to speak.

“I want to have a child, but my husband isn’t…”

Paul raised his hand to stop her, he’d heard the explanation too many times before. He grabbed the pillow he’d used with the last woman, saw it was still wet and flipped it over to find an ugly stain on the reverse side. He threw it on the floor, grabbed one of the remaining pillows from the head of the bed, and slapped it down beside him. Paul patted the pillow and waved the woman over. “Come on, get over here and plant you ass on this so we can get this over with.” He saw the shocked look this off-handed treatment elicited and didn’t care. “Well, do you want me to try fucking you standing up, or are you going to get your ass over here so I can take care of you? Make up your mind, lady, cause once I’m done with you, I get to home and get some sleep.”

She clearly expected to be treated differently. Her back went rigid, and her face set in a scowl that probably intimidated her husband. Paul didn’t give a shit, he just matched her angry stare with a well-earned indifferent stare. She was the one who looked away first, and with eyes still averted, she walked to the bed and positioned herself to Paul’s satisfaction. He gave her genitals a quick look and reached for the bottle of sexual lubricant sitting on the night stand.

Paul squirted his palm full of the cool liquid, smeared it over the woman’s vagina, then shoved a finger into her to start working the lubricant into where it would be needed. She grabbed his wrist, trying to stop him. He turned his face towards her and put his displeasure into his voice. “Lady, if you like pain while you’re having sex, get your kicks with your husband. My dick’s already sensitive, and I’ve got no desire to wear it raw getting you taken care of. So you either let me get you ready, or you can get the hell outta here!”

She released his wrist, and Paul took a small amount of pleasure in not being gentle while he finished lubricating the opening. Satisfied she was as ready as possible, he grabbed his penis, gave it a couple of quick strokes to get himself as hard as possible, and got between her legs. Six month ago, Paul would have been thrilled by what he did next. Now, after so many women, it was little more than ‘Put Tab A into Slot B, then move until finished.’ And finish he did, as quickly as he could. Duty done, he rolled off the anonymous woman and ran his clean palm across his face, wiping away more sweat than he’d expected to find. He felt the woman move, but not to get up and go. No, she was sitting up, and when he moved his hand, he saw she was scowling at him like he’d just mortally insulted her.

“What? Did you expect me to ‘make love to you’? Get over yourself. You’re the sixth woman I’ve had sex with today, and you’re no different from any of the others. Now, you’ve got what you wanted, and unless you’re an idiot who thinks she can just come in here anytime during her fertility cycle, you should have the makings of a baby inside you. I’d suggest using a tampon or something else to keep it all up inside, but that’s up to you.” Paul levered himself up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He was thinner now than he’d been in his entire life. He wasn’t skinny, or even ‘cut’, but all the sex really did burn the calories off. He didn’t feel the bed move and glanced over his shoulder. She had gone from scowling at him to staring daggers at him. Paul didn’t give a shit. He pushed himself up, grabbed his own robe off the chair he’d draped it over a couple of hours ago, and wrapped it around himself. He tied the belt, looked back at the bed, and saw her face had gone an ugly crimson color. Who cares he thought to himself as he headed for the door. His day was done, and he had a day’s rest tomorrow before he was back her to screw more women. He had no interest in missing a second of his time off, and when she started screaming at him, he just kept going intent on getting home.