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Clone (MOTC24)

The sun beat down on the meadow, the air heady with chirping birds and buzzing insects. Karen strode through the knee-high grass, steps confident and sensual. The thin cotton of her purple sundress clung to every dip and curve of her body, the shadow of erect nipples clearly visible through the fabric. She was on the prowl. And that was when she saw him: a lone hiker, all rippling muscles and tousled hair, a prime specimen of manhood. Karen licked her lips as she watched him walk through the grass. He would do nicely.

She sauntered up, hips swaying hypnotically, and unleashed her most devastating smile. “Hey there, stud. What brings you out to my neck of the woods? He stammered a response, eyes riveted to her deep cleavage. She moved closer, letting her breasts brush his arm, delighting in his sharp intake of breath. “It’s so hot today,” Karen purred, slipping one strap off her shoulder. “I could really use some help cooling off…” Comprehension dawned in his eyes a moment before she pulled him into her embrace. Her tongue thrusting into his mouth, swirling around his own. But more than saliva passed between them. Microscopic machines, tailored to restructure male DNA, poured from her into him, a Trojan horse of lust.

He shuddered in her arms as the changes began. The shift of bone and muscle under skin as his face reformed in Karen’s image: the same pert nose, the same rosebud lips. Body hair shriveled and fell away. Pecs twinged and swelled, sensitive new flesh straining against his shirt. She swallowed his groan against her tongue as a seam split and a plump breast bounced free. Its twin quickly followed, the shirt ripping away like tissue paper. He whimpered as his jeans cut into a widening ass and hips. Karen’s thigh rubbed against his and she felt his erection flutter and wilt through the denim as the nanites dismantled his manhood. Karen finally broke the kiss, letting him gasp for air. He staggered back, too overwhelmed by the enormity of what had happened to process her satisfied smirk. Trembling hands roamed his torso, cupping the unfamiliar weight of his breasts, tweaking nipples already diamond-hard with arousal. Further down, his jeans had split, shredded by the violent birth of Karen’s signature bubble butt. He pulled down the ruined jeans, and saw, between those now creamy thighs and through the tatters of his boxers, a pretty pussy, plump and hairless, already glistening with need.

The nanites were already affecting his mind, molding it in the same way they had done to his body. Tentatively, he touched his new pussy, gasping at the shock of pleasure as he parted his new folds. His, no, HER, eyes rolled back, knees nearly buckling as she sank two fingers into her heat. Karen sidled up behind her clone, molding their bodies together by slotting one toned thigh between the other’s legs to grind against that weeping slit. “Welcome to our sorority, Karen,” she cooed. The clone moaned, mindlessly rutting on her twin’s leg. Karen reached around to roll a rock-hard nipple between her fingers, reveling in her doppelganger’s ecstatic cry. So sensitive, so responsive, so eager to please: this had always been her favorite part of the process.

As her creation shattered in her arms, orgasm crashing over her in cresting waves, Karen laughed. The field was now a cemetery, littered with the shredded remnants of the man that was. In his place stood Karen: one of many. And one of many more. So lost was she in the aftershocks, the newborn Karen didn’t even notice the other Karen pushing her to her knees, spreading her thighs. But she certainly noticed the first swipe of tongue through her folds. This was only the beginning. Karen had so much more to teach her new sister. She lapped with renewed vigor, eager to mold her mirror image into the perfect plaything. In the end, there would be only Karen. Everywhere.

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