u/away8624

We were an odd pair. I was indisputably the better looking of the two of us, and we were opposites in more ways than not; where I was a bon vivant, life-of-the-party, you were shy, took a while to warm up to anybody new. I had a natural confidence and friendliness to me that made women naturally at ease, while you were awkward enough that your few friends openly speculated that I was simply a very expensive male prostitute that you were paying for the boyfriend experience. And that thought made you... Wet. Horny.

The way that they talked about me, the idea that they had no qualms about jumping your boyfriend, it lodged itself in your mind in that first week of dating after you introduced me to them, and festered. It grew, to the point where you put porn on while we fucked for me to watch. You tested the waters, sending photos of Instagram models, asking what I thought of them, ostensibly about the clothes, or the fitness routine that they were hawking, as though you were considering signing up. We both knew you were never going to, though.

And slowly, I began reciprocating the tests- I'd go out to bars with my friends, then clubs, and then started just going out alone. I'd text you while I was at parties, and send selfies of who I was dancing with, and you'd be knuckles deep within yourself in a matter of minutes, innocently replying "Glad you're making friends!! Be safe, see you when you get home!" and when I finally returned in the wee hours of the morning, you'd be a quivering mess, having tortured yourself with conjured ideas of what I'd gotten up to. You'd suck my cock before I had the chance to jump into the shower, desperately searching my shaft for any evidence that I had crossed a line that we both knew was getting fainter and fainter with each passing day. Then, you'd deny yourself as long as possible, savouring the self-inflicted celibacy, in the hopes that your sabotage would work.

You knew it wasn't healthy. That the healthy way would be to come out, and say it. But the idea of the infidelity, that I could have my cake and eat it so easily spurred you on to continue to neglect the bedroom. Hoping that something totally new would rise from the ashes of our now smoldering sex life, a beautiful phoenix of me fucking random whores, with you sucking their perfect juices from my dick, confirming your place as a cuckquean beta loser. It's what you deserved. It's what you needed. It's what you were going to get.

It was, to be terribly blunt and depressingly realistic, a fool's errand. How could the world ever hope to recover from an instantaneous loss of half its population? The patriarchal forces in place at once culled almost all electricians, pilots, carpenters, and truck drivers. Truthfully? The world was in its death throes, it and there was no way out of it. But, governments couldn't admit that the precarious developed life had been instantly smashed to pieces, so they made grand gestures to empty halls about retraining programs, ambitious cooperatives to redistribute skilled scientists from the Phillipines, doctors from Saudi Arabia, and Bulgarian engineers to share the load.

The cracks had begun to become apparent when Australia was officially abandoned; too large, and too remote, they couldn't adequately service the breadth of the land, and accepted New Zealand's offer to join the north island while supply chains were being rebuilt. The move was monumental, and many refused, but eventually relented as they watched the supermarkets being stripped bare and then never being replenished.

Territorial disputes between India and Pakistan erupted into a fullblown war, and for some people, it almost felt like a return to normality- the knowledge that even in the apocalypse, there could be large scale conflicts meant that there must be energy for fighting, right?

And then, in the aftermath of a dirty bomb, it was leaked that the war had primarily come about over the covert capture of about a hundred men, who now lay dead. The entire future of a country, destroyed in a matter of days.

Smart women pointed out that the fortunes had been destroyed a long time ago- when the men first disappeared. That the rationality of it was such that there was no chance of any real widespread repopulation effort after all of the death and destruction, just from the sheer logistics of it all.

That was the thing- there was food. And plenty of it! But the infrastructure surrounding it, getting it from Point A to Point B was incredibly difficult, if not impossible, when the world had smashed its way to a standstill, with every road still full of wreckages, every sanitation plant full to the brim if not completely destroyed from lack of maintenance. But as governments deployed centralized, socialized infrastructure and doled out three hot meals a day, people were able to delude themselves into thinking that this was something that they could bounce back from.

And bounce they did.

The few men that remained were instantly mobbed. Gradually, control was established. In some cases, governments swooped in, and placed them under constant surveillance. In others, corporations or cartels made the canny decision to poach them, and began using their cocks as the most lucrative black-market bargaining chip available. And other men managed to wrestle a degree of control of their cities, promising payment in cum, provided the women keep them safe. Assassinations were common in the first couple of weeks, while the infrastructure was still clinging on, but then died down as the reality of the situation began to set in.

Culturally, the change seemed... Unnecessary. Given the ivory towers that the men had been vaulted into, most women were dressing to the nines for their peers. They spent weeks without seeing men, but the chance was enough that they took pains in making themselves look extra-fuckable, just in case a guy was walking along and decided his cock hadn't entered quite enough women that particular day, and asked for her to bend over and relieve him.

Avery had avoided the attention with his long hair, hoodies, and slight frame. When he picked up the first package of instant potato and essentials from the "Hub" that had been set up in a subway terminal, the woman who handed it to him had been too tired to notice his larger hands. He hadn't gone completely unnoticed, though.

Sarah stalked him back to his apartment, and broke the lock of the one next to his to keep an eye on him. She'd made notes, kept a diary of times that he moved around, and waited until her suspicion was confirmed when he hung out his boxers on the balcony on the fourth day. Then, she found her chance...

---

What happens when almost all men disappear in a puff of smoke? Well, it's the apocalypse. There's next to no denying that. But governments will try and pretend that everything's okay- and for the few remaining men, it certainly doesn't feel like the end of the world. For this, I was imagining exploring what one of those men might get up to- is he abducted by an enterprising mafia member? Or does Sarah have a cuckquean streak, and get off on helping him repopulate the city? Or does he quickly take control of the situation and enjoy a lavish lifestyle? Couple different ways we can play this out!

It was, to be terribly blunt and depressingly realistic, a fool's errand. How could the world ever hope to recover from an instantaneous loss of half its population? The patriarchal forces in place at once culled almost all electricians, pilots, carpenters, and truck drivers. Truthfully? The world was in its death throes, it and there was no way out of it. But, governments couldn't admit that the precarious developed life had been instantly smashed to pieces, so they made grand gestures to empty halls about retraining programs, ambitious cooperatives to redistribute skilled scientists from the Phillipines, doctors from Saudi Arabia, and Bulgarian engineers to share the load.

The cracks had begun to become apparent when Australia was officially abandoned; too large, and too remote, they couldn't adequately service the breadth of the land, and accepted New Zealand's offer to join the north island while supply chains were being rebuilt. The move was monumental, and many refused, but eventually relented as they watched the supermarkets being stripped bare and then never being replenished.

Territorial disputes between India and Pakistan erupted into a fullblown war, and for some people, it almost felt like a return to normality- the knowledge that even in the apocalypse, there could be large scale conflicts meant that there must be energy for fighting, right?

And then, in the aftermath of a dirty bomb, it was leaked that the war had primarily come about over the covert capture of about a hundred men, who now lay dead. The entire future of a country, destroyed in a matter of days.

Smart women pointed out that the fortunes had been destroyed a long time ago- when the men first disappeared. That the rationality of it was such that there was no chance of any real widespread repopulation effort after all of the death and destruction, just from the sheer logistics of it all.

That was the thing- there was food. And plenty of it! But the infrastructure surrounding it, getting it from Point A to Point B was incredibly difficult, if not impossible, when the world had smashed its way to a standstill, with every road still full of wreckages, every sanitation plant full to the brim if not completely destroyed from lack of maintenance. But as governments deployed centralized, socialized infrastructure and doled out three hot meals a day, people were able to delude themselves into thinking that this was something that they could bounce back from.

And bounce they did.

The few men that remained were instantly mobbed. Gradually, control was established. In some cases, governments swooped in, and placed them under constant surveillance. In others, corporations or cartels made the canny decision to poach them, and began using their cocks as the most lucrative black-market bargaining chip available. And other men managed to wrestle a degree of control of their cities, promising payment in cum, provided the women keep them safe. Assassinations were common in the first couple of weeks, while the infrastructure was still clinging on, but then died down as the reality of the situation began to set in.

Culturally, the change seemed... Unnecessary. Given the ivory towers that the men had been vaulted into, most women were dressing to the nines for their peers. They spent weeks without seeing men, but the chance was enough that they took pains in making themselves look extra-fuckable, just in case a guy was walking along and decided his cock hadn't entered quite enough women that particular day, and asked for her to bend over and relieve him.

Avery had avoided the attention with his long hair, hoodies, and slight frame. When he picked up the first package of instant potato and essentials from the "Hub" that had been set up in a subway terminal, the woman who handed it to him had been too tired to notice his larger hands. He hadn't gone completely unnoticed, though.

Sarah stalked him back to his apartment, and broke the lock of the one next to his to keep an eye on him. She'd made notes, kept a diary of times that he moved around, and waited until her suspicion was confirmed when he hung out his boxers on the balcony on the fourth day. Then, she found her chance...

---

What happens when almost all men disappear in a puff of smoke? Well, it's the apocalypse. There's next to no denying that. But governments will try and pretend that everything's okay- and for the few remaining men, it certainly doesn't feel like the end of the world. For this, I was imagining exploring what one of those men might get up to- is he abducted by an enterprising mafia member? Or does Sarah have a cuckquean streak, and get off on helping him repopulate the city? Or does he quickly take control of the situation and enjoy a lavish lifestyle? Couple different ways we can play this out!

It was, to be terribly blunt and depressingly realistic, a fool's errand. How could the world ever hope to recover from an instantaneous loss of half its population? The patriarchal forces in place at once culled almost all electricians, pilots, carpenters, and truck drivers. Truthfully? The world was in its death throes, it and there was no way out of it. But, governments couldn't admit that the precarious developed life had been instantly smashed to pieces, so they made grand gestures to empty halls about retraining programs, ambitious cooperatives to redistribute skilled scientists from the Phillipines, doctors from Saudi Arabia, and Bulgarian engineers to share the load.

The cracks had begun to become apparent when Australia was officially abandoned; too large, and too remote, they couldn't adequately service the breadth of the land, and accepted New Zealand's offer to join the north island while supply chains were being rebuilt. The move was monumental, and many refused, but eventually relented as they watched the supermarkets being stripped bare and then never being replenished.

Territorial disputes between India and Pakistan erupted into a fullblown war, and for some people, it almost felt like a return to normality- the knowledge that even in the apocalypse, there could be large scale conflicts meant that there must be energy for fighting, right?

And then, in the aftermath of a dirty bomb, it was leaked that the war had primarily come about over the covert capture of about a hundred men, who now lay dead. The entire future of a country, destroyed in a matter of days.

Smart women pointed out that the fortunes had been destroyed a long time ago- when the men first disappeared. That the rationality of it was such that there was no chance of any real widespread repopulation effort after all of the death and destruction, just from the sheer logistics of it all.

That was the thing- there was food. And plenty of it! But the infrastructure surrounding it, getting it from Point A to Point B was incredibly difficult, if not impossible, when the world had smashed its way to a standstill, with every road still full of wreckages, every sanitation plant full to the brim if not completely destroyed from lack of maintenance. But as governments deployed centralized, socialized infrastructure and doled out three hot meals a day, people were able to delude themselves into thinking that this was something that they could bounce back from.

And bounce they did.

The few men that remained were instantly mobbed. Gradually, control was established. In some cases, governments swooped in, and placed them under constant surveillance. In others, corporations or cartels made the canny decision to poach them, and began using their cocks as the most lucrative black-market bargaining chip available. And other men managed to wrestle a degree of control of their cities, promising payment in cum, provided the women keep them safe. Assassinations were common in the first couple of weeks, while the infrastructure was still clinging on, but then died down as the reality of the situation began to set in.

Culturally, the change seemed... Unnecessary. Given the ivory towers that the men had been vaulted into, most women were dressing to the nines for their peers. They spent weeks without seeing men, but the chance was enough that they took pains in making themselves look extra-fuckable, just in case a guy was walking along and decided his cock hadn't entered quite enough women that particular day, and asked for her to bend over and relieve him.

Avery had avoided the attention with his long hair, hoodies, and slight frame. When he picked up the first package of instant potato and essentials from the "Hub" that had been set up in a subway terminal, the woman who handed it to him had been too tired to notice his larger hands. He hadn't gone completely unnoticed, though.

Sarah stalked him back to his apartment, and broke the lock of the one next to his to keep an eye on him. She'd made notes, kept a diary of times that he moved around, and waited until her suspicion was confirmed when he hung out his boxers on the balcony on the fourth day. Then, she found her chance...

---

What happens when almost all men disappear in a puff of smoke? Well, it's the apocalypse. There's next to no denying that. But governments will try and pretend that everything's okay- and for the few remaining men, it certainly doesn't feel like the end of the world. For this, I was imagining exploring what one of those men might get up to- is he abducted by an enterprising mafia member? Or does Sarah have a cuckquean streak, and get off on helping him repopulate the city? Or does he quickly take control of the situation and enjoy a lavish lifestyle? Couple different ways we can play this out!

In the near future, humanity has made leaps and bounds in space travel with the Johnson-Tanaka Drive.

The Tanaka near-light-speed (NLS) Drive technology was technically usable for a long time, but it held a terrible cost- the gravity made it totally liquefy humans, rendering it a useful scouting tool for the first forty years after its inception, humanity keenly looking on as the probes that ventured outside the solar system discovered Goldilocks planets, asteroids rich with materials, and vast deposits of natural gases just floating around in space.

Then, an ingenious chemist called Dmitry Johnson, the son of a Russian climate refugee and American business mogul, invented what is now lovingly referred to as 'jump juice'; a serum injected just before hitting NLS to avoid the liquefication problem by a technology sufficiently advanced to be described as magic.

This immediately opened up the stars to humanity, with asteroid mining triggering a second boom of commerce, and outposts on many planets outside of our solar system starting to put down roots. It was the dawn of a new era of human civilisation, narrowly escaping the confines of the Earth as climate change slowly rendered vast swathes of Australia, Africa, and America uninhabitable, underwater, or perpetually on fire.

The only issue?

Some genomic fault in the Y chromosome makes the jump juice that's needed to survive NLS lethal to men, rendering the men totally mush. Even their sperm was unusable, the proteins totally unbinding, making any sort of artificial insemination impossible.

So, all the miners and space ships are staffed almost entirely by women- men were landlocked, doomed to live out their last days on the planet that they had destroyed. A couple lucky ones managed to buy tickets aboard The Golden Cage fleet, generation ships that were en-route to the distant budding colony of Tanaka, a city founded on Eroad, a goldilocks planet that was several hundred years away; the men would die aboard, but those floating fortresses of opulence were admittedly the largest genomic pool available.

Save for a few, lucky men with the CX-9 gene that could stand the jump juice.

They were as rare as hen's teeth, but they existed- in a less advanced age, they'd be old wive's tales, rumours of virile young studs that roamed the streets, with a bevy of enchanted girls hanging off of them. Talk of a handsome man wearing a wig to blend in as he made his way to the Tanakan Prime Minister's chambers, for some sort of 'meeting'. Of course, information traveled differently, in a post-NLS age; the age old question of whether a pigeon with a USB strapped to it was once more brought into the conversation, and the decision was an emphatic 'yes'; radio waves were clunky, slow, and prone to degradation. Ships taking on board a disk of the local net was cheap, if somewhat laggy, and prone to getting lost. So the talk of men spread less like wildfire, and more like a flashstorm; areas would suddenly get the news, and be ablaze with chatter, Brazilian waxes, and fantasies, all for them to realise a week later that the man had already passed through two weeks before they received the message.

---

Hi there! Thanks for sticking through all that, it's certainly a lot of exposition for what is admittedly a very simple plot; there's one guy in space. I'd be very keen to play the adventures of the few men that are blessed with the right genes opposite somebody that's happy to play the women that he encounters, but recognise that that might be as rare as the men that I've described! If you, dear reader, are not interested in that, but are interested in the world, I would love some help world-building this into something more concrete- I'm imagining the technology to be similar to The Expanse; there's no cryo, no FTL, but there's plenty of tech, established colonies, and there's the jump juice that lets them travel close to the speed of light- only difference being that the jump juice is poison to most men.

Something seemed... Different. Liam couldn't put his finger on it exactly when he woke up, nor when he brushed his teeth. In the haze of the morning rush, he didn't notice anything too unusual while he shat, shaved, and showered, in that order, aside from the fact that he was lucky to not be feeling as lethargic as his bedtime would usually make him.

The train was busy. He got on with his usual crowd- there was the fat guy that wore suspenders, a couple business men, and a girl who wore sports gear and runners. She got off at the park, two stops before Liam's, presumably for a morning run. Today, it was the whole gang. He met eyes with Runner Girl once as he arrived, with no flash of recognition or polite acknowledgement. The glance lingered for a little longer than usual, but then, Runner Girl looked away, and they studiously ignored each other as they piled into the carriage, which was even busier than usual.

Liam was shoved into the thronging masses, forced to stand and use the modern-day sea legs to stay perfectly still on bends, avoiding bumping into people, all while he watched the few lucky enough to get seats enviously. Runner Girl was standing next to him, and luckily the loud business guy had chosen to get on the other carriage- he often had phone calls about custody with his ex wife, who hated the fact that Bradley had to get the train in and left Stella with "that girl". The only sense of camaraderie over three years of the Farnsworth 7:24am Stop was a shared glance between Runner Girl and Liam over that overheard snippet, but Liam was reasonably confident he was not alone in preferring a busy carriage or the stench of Shower In A Can Teenager over the phone calls.

Today, one seat was lucky enough to have the ass of a beautiful young woman. She was out of place. She belonged in magazines, in chauffeured limousines, not the nearly-grey seat that was near them. She was wearing a college crop top, which showed off a chest that seemed out of proportion with her rail-thin waist, which then spread out to a generous sized ass. Runner girl and Liam were just feet away from her, and shared another one of those glances that said more in half a second than they'd ever said to each other out loud. What the fuck was someone that looked that good, doing here?

Liam caught her perfect eye, just for a moment, and could feel a problem in his pants. A replay of the thing that kept him up last night to the wee hours of the morning began running in his head, images of what was hidden underneath that fabric colliding with his own body. She was so hot, it was spilling over into temperature, and Perfect Girl fanned herself. Her eyes seemed to be trained on Runner Girl, or one of the drab posters behind- Liam didn't look, to avoid being a creep. The train juddered, and he felt Runner Girl back into him accidentally, right onto his tumescent dick.

And then, she didn't move away. Runner girl started shifting in time with the rickety train, some air of plausible deniability lending discretion to the movements that Liam was too petrified to acknowledge were her grinding against his dick. He couldn't look away, couldn't look around for fear of alerting suspicion. The code of the train was that you decided where you were going to look, and then you didn't look away from that point, even if some hapless passenger next to you was being cannibalized. He could steal glances at Perfect Girl, and saw that she was squirming in her seat. Maybe the hard plastic with a hardy covering wasn't what that glorious ass was used to.

Runner girl was moving her ass up and down, slowly, carefully, letting the bulge in his pants press between her legs, stimulating him as much as possible. Liam desperately wanted to see the expression on her face, but she was directly in front of him. All he could see was Perfect Girl, who was now, he had to admit, staring at him. He could see her shifting her hands between her legs, squirming in place. What the fuck?

Liam took a risk, and glanced up at the board. Jesus. Just one more stop to the park. Runner girl had shifted her bag to her side, with the train on the other, occluding the vision of her hand to other passengers. Slowly, but surely, Runner Girl missed her stop, and Liam stood petrified.

It was then that Liam realized that there was no "good" way out of this. He'd have to get off the train at some point, but her hand was slowly moving back, towards his crotch. Perfect Girl was sweating now, looking in their general direction, and Liam knew that there was some sort of... Something... Going on. That Perfect Girl was invested in the impromptu pairing, or that Runner Girl had instigated because of Perfect Girl, or something. It couldn't be a coincidence that the day that some fit bird decides to subject herself to the worst torture available before 7:30am in the outer suburbs was the same day that a girl that he'd snatched glances at for three years decided to randomly start dry humping in a busy train.

It was almost his stop, and Liam started to perform the most obnoxious and obvious jangling of his keys, patting of his wallet, and locking of his phone that he could. Perfect Girl seemed... Alarmed. She was looking up at the stop number, and her eyes darted back. Then their eye contact collided again, with a wordless pleading. Something that said, "don't go". He didn't move away from Runner Girl's hand, enjoying the sensation of it stroking the outside of his pants for a moment longer. The train slowed down to his stop. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped backwards, away from Runner Girl's tight lycra, away from Perfect Girl's huge perfect tits and fuckable lips and tan lines, and onto the train station platform. He held his breath, and didn't look back to see who followed him.

---

Hi! This is quite an open ended premise, the general gist of it being that something has made our character irresistible, some pheromonal hand-wavy thing that pushes them to surrender all inhibitions and jump his bones. Or, maybe Runner Girl and Perfect Girl have prior history, something that precipitated the sudden encounter? Keen to discuss and figure it out together- come armed with a kink and limits list!

In the near future, humanity has made leaps and bounds in space travel with the Johnson-Tanaka Drive.

The Tanaka near-light-speed (NLS) Drive technology was technically usable for a long time, but it held a terrible cost- the gravity made it totally liquefy humans, rendering it a useful scouting tool for the first forty years after its inception, humanity keenly looking on as the probes that ventured outside the solar system discovered Goldilocks planets, asteroids rich with materials, and vast deposits of natural gases just floating around in space.

Then, an ingenious chemist called Dmitry Johnson, the son of a Russian climate refugee and American business mogul, invented what is now lovingly referred to as 'jump juice'; a serum injected just before hitting NLS to avoid the liquefication problem by a technology sufficiently advanced to be described as magic.

This immediately opened up the stars to humanity, with asteroid mining triggering a second boom of commerce, and outposts on many planets outside of our solar system starting to put down roots. It was the dawn of a new era of human civilisation, narrowly escaping the confines of the Earth as climate change slowly rendered vast swathes of Australia, Africa, and America uninhabitable, underwater, or perpetually on fire.

The only issue?

Some genomic fault in the Y chromosome makes the jump juice that's needed to survive NLS lethal to men, rendering the men totally mush. Even their sperm was unusable, the proteins totally unbinding, making any sort of artificial insemination impossible.

So, all the miners and space ships are staffed almost entirely by women- men were landlocked, doomed to live out their last days on the planet that they had destroyed. A couple lucky ones managed to buy tickets aboard The Golden Cage fleet, generation ships that were en-route to the distant budding colony of Tanaka, a city founded on Eroad, a goldilocks planet that was several hundred years away; the men would die aboard, but those floating fortresses of opulence were admittedly the largest genomic pool available.

Save for a few, lucky men with the CX-9 gene that could stand the jump juice.

They were as rare as hen's teeth, but they existed- in a less advanced age, they'd be old wive's tales, rumours of virile young studs that roamed the streets, with a bevy of enchanted girls hanging off of them. Talk of a handsome man wearing a wig to blend in as he made his way to the Tanakan Prime Minister's chambers, for some sort of 'meeting'. Of course, information traveled differently, in a post-NLS age; the age old question of whether a pigeon with a USB strapped to it was once more brought into the conversation, and the decision was an emphatic 'yes'; radio waves were clunky, slow, and prone to degradation. Ships taking on board a disk of the local net was cheap, if somewhat laggy, and prone to getting lost. So the talk of men spread less like wildfire, and more like a flashstorm; areas would suddenly get the news, and be ablaze with chatter, Brazilian waxes, and fantasies, all for them to realise a week later that the man had already passed through two weeks before they received the message.

---

Hi there! Thanks for sticking through all that, it's certainly a lot of exposition for what is admittedly a very simple plot; there's one guy in space. I'd be very keen to play the adventures of the few men that are blessed with the right genes opposite somebody that's happy to play the women that he encounters, but recognise that that might be as rare as the men that I've described! If you, dear reader, are not interested in that, but are interested in the world, I would love some help world-building this into something more concrete- I'm imagining the technology to be similar to The Expanse; there's no cryo, no FTL, but there's plenty of tech, established colonies, and there's the jump juice that lets them travel close to the speed of light- only difference being that the jump juice is poison to most men.

In the near future, humanity has made leaps and bounds in space travel with the Johnson-Tanaka Drive.

The Tanaka near-light-speed (NLS) Drive technology was technically usable for a long time, but it held a terrible cost- the gravity made it totally liquefy humans, rendering it a useful scouting tool for the first forty years after its inception, humanity keenly looking on as the probes that ventured outside the solar system discovered Goldilocks planets, asteroids rich with materials, and vast deposits of natural gases just floating around in space.

Then, an ingenious chemist called Dmitry Johnson, the son of a Russian climate refugee and American business mogul, invented what is now lovingly referred to as 'jump juice'; a serum injected just before hitting NLS to avoid the liquefication problem by a technology sufficiently advanced to be described as magic.

This immediately opened up the stars to humanity, with asteroid mining triggering a second boom of commerce, and outposts on many planets outside of our solar system starting to put down roots. It was the dawn of a new era of human civilisation, narrowly escaping the confines of the Earth as climate change slowly rendered vast swathes of Australia, Africa, and America uninhabitable, underwater, or perpetually on fire.

The only issue?

Some genomic fault in the Y chromosome makes the jump juice that's needed to survive NLS lethal to men, rendering the men totally mush. Even their sperm was unusable, the proteins totally unbinding, making any sort of artificial insemination impossible.

So, all the miners and space ships are staffed almost entirely by women- men were landlocked, doomed to live out their last days on the planet that they had destroyed. A couple lucky ones managed to buy tickets aboard The Golden Cage fleet, generation ships that were en-route to the distant budding colony of Tanaka, a city founded on Eroad, a goldilocks planet that was several hundred years away; the men would die aboard, but those floating fortresses of opulence were admittedly the largest genomic pool available.

Save for a few, lucky men with the CX-9 gene that could stand the jump juice.

They were as rare as hen's teeth, but they existed- in a less advanced age, they'd be old wive's tales, rumours of virile young studs that roamed the streets, with a bevy of enchanted girls hanging off of them. Talk of a handsome man wearing a wig to blend in as he made his way to the Tanakan Prime Minister's chambers, for some sort of 'meeting'. Of course, information traveled differently, in a post-NLS age; the age old question of whether a pigeon with a USB strapped to it was once more brought into the conversation, and the decision was an emphatic 'yes'; radio waves were clunky, slow, and prone to degradation. Ships taking on board a disk of the local net was cheap, if somewhat laggy, and prone to getting lost. So the talk of men spread less like wildfire, and more like a flashstorm; areas would suddenly get the news, and be ablaze with chatter, Brazilian waxes, and fantasies, all for them to realise a week later that the man had already passed through two weeks before they received the message.

---

Hi there! Thanks for sticking through all that, it's certainly a lot of exposition for what is admittedly a very simple plot; there's one guy in space. I'd be very keen to play the adventures of the few men that are blessed with the right genes opposite somebody that's happy to play the women that he encounters, but recognise that that might be as rare as the men that I've described! If you, dear reader, are not interested in that, but are interested in the world, I would love some help world-building this into something more concrete- I'm imagining the technology to be similar to The Expanse; there's no cryo, no FTL, but there's plenty of tech, established colonies, and there's the jump juice that lets them travel close to the speed of light- only difference being that the jump juice is poison to most men.