Open on CHYOA

The Last Man On Earth

On one hand, you sort of expected that being the last man on Earth would make you the de facto ruler. In some sense, this was true; your word is essentially law inside the Breeding Complex. In another sense it was not true: you are very much a prisoner here. The survival and propagation of the human species depends on your safety; you would never really be allowed to leave. But of course, why would you want to?

By now, the Breeding Complex was large enough that it should really be called the Breeding City. You wonder if anyone has considered changing the name, but at the end of the day you don't get paid enough to worry about the bureaucracy. In fact, you don't get paid anything at all, but you've come to the conclusion that the job benefits are worth it. The mayor of a city is the same as the ruler of the world if you don't take too many steps backwards.

You wake up in the same bed you've woken up in since you turned 18. It is truly massive; at least a dozen people can occupy it at once. The novelty of absurdly large orgies had worn off a bit. At a certain point you realized that having more than 10 women at once is just redundant. You hadn't completely removed the idea from the table, it just wasn't the flavor of the month.

You yawn, stretching your arms above your head. As the blanket rises, you catch a glimpse of your flaccid cock. It is, in a word, meaty. You weren't small to begin with, but numerous advances in the field of Breeding science had led to substantial improvements. You remember the day you were given the bottle of 50 small red pills with instruction to "take one per day, orally." As soon as they told you it was for sexual enhancements, you decided you were going to take all of the pills at once. You're almost positive they expected this to happen and simply divided the intended dosage of one pill across 50, but it wasn't worth worrying about at this point.

The results of the experimentation, which took place over the better part of a year are as follows: your cock is 6 inches soft, 9 inches hard erect with a 6.5 inch girth. Strictly speaking, the size of your cock was probably not intended to be so large, but you insisted on such enhancements "for fun." Eventually your demands were met, likely so that you would be more willing to accept other potential body alterations in the future. Your balls are roughly twice the size of a normal man's, and produce semen at an increased rate. Your refractory period is minimal, and you are able ejaculate multiple times in a row with no break. You know that your genitalia are scientifically engineered to breed as effectively as possible.

You are a superhuman stud, to be sure, but you are not a god. You do not produce infinite semen, and the amount that you do produce is closely monitored and analyzed. In fact, wasting semen is the only crime you are realistically capable of committing. Luckily for you, it's very hard to waste. The Breeding complex is the Vegas of horny women, and what happens here only stays if they're unlucky.

After another big yawn, you decide that it's high time to tackle the day.

What's next?

Log in or Sign up to continue reading!