Cloning Myself the Natural Way

I would rush home from work every day eager to be with my inanimate lover. There were some days when my own libido wore it out. It would be drained and soft, and it would take a lot of coaxing to arouse it again.

It was also starting to become evident that the thing had a mind of its own. There were some acts it liked more than others, and it seemed to particularly get off on cumming right up against my cervix.

There was one day that I fucked it before work, and then just left it in while I got dressed. It was spent for now, but I knew it would wake at some point. So there I was at my desk, in my suit jacket and skirt, when I felt the thing getting aroused inside of me.

At first, the erect cock hidden inside me was a source of pleasant distraction as I worked. I teasingly flexed my muscles to keep it aroused. I wondered if I could keep it like that, on edge, for the entire day.

But then it escalated the situation, using the flare around the head to move back and forth slightly like a battering ram. I was out of my mind with arousal. My clit was begging for any touch at all, but that wasn't where the action was taking place, and I couldn't very well finger myself in my cubicle, not if I could help it. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, just to feel the motion.

It was in control now, and I was mostly just along for the ride, although by now my body had a script to follow, for how to pleasure this thing to completion. And I realized that was the most attainable relief--or at least it would get me a reprieve. As I sat at my desk, I squeezed my pelvic muscles in time with the movement inside me. Its pace quickened until I could hardly keep up, and then I felt it flail desperately inside my vagina, urgently needing just that last bit of friction. Then it went rigid and hot and even bigger. I almost didn't want it to end then, as I shifted in my seat to realign it inside me. Then the flood came, pumping its hot fluid into me. I nearly choked on a sip of coffee while trying to cover my gasp of pleasure. My hand was shaking as I gripped the desk.

This happened periodically throughout the day. Especially on the drive home, when the vibrations of the road thrummed up into me from the seat below.

By the time I got home, my vagina was filled to the brim with swimmers, my underwear was soggy with the excess, and I was still hot and aching for a proper fuck. I realized that was a stupid idea I dare not repeat. I wouldn't know how to explain if I got caught.

The penis was spent for the moment, but half an hour later, I fished it out of its brine again, coaxed it back to life, and plowed it back into me over and over. This was maybe its seventh time of the day, so it lasted a while. I reached a climax that left me trembling and too weak to even keep plunging it into myself. I laid back exhausted as it finished the job itself. It squirmed in me, like an eel burrowing into the seabed. It was becoming more mobile somehow over time, I thought, as it sought out my uterus like a salmon spawning upstream. Finally it shot its squiddy white ink inside of me. From somewhere in my core, that triggered another, unexpected wave of pleasure. Afterwards I could feel it warmly pulsing, like a lover catching his breath.

Over time, I was feeding it so frequently that it seemed to grow larger. It certainly felt larger when I fed it into myself, but somehow I always managed to fit it inside. Even as I was reshaping it, it was reshaping me. We were so conformed to each other, two puzzle pieces that slotted together snugly and perfectly.

Despite my relatively recent acquisition of the equipment, I quickly became an expert at using my vaginal muscles to stimulate it, to bring it to climax, to squeeze the semen out of it. And it seemed to learn over time how to please me, how to push me to explosive orgasm after orgasm. And I of course knew every contour of it, every nerve ending like it was my own, because it had been mine before. I knew exactly what it would find pleasurable, exactly how it would react to stimuli. I wasn't sure how anything else could measure up. There was no way I could have that level of intimacy with someone else. By now I wasn't fantasizing about other men anymore when I fucked myself with it; my mind would be utterly blank, focused on the moment.

At first I didn't think anything of missing a period or two. After all, my body was new to this menstruation thing, and I could hardly complain about dealing with it less often. Eventually I noticed that my body was reshaping itself yet again, and in new ways. I put on weight suddenly. My hips got wider. My breasts grew bigger and fuller. My feet became flatter. My belly grew rounder and taut. What I saw in the mirror went quickly from girl to woman. I wasn't complaining, just surprised.

One day a coworker who asked me how far along I was. It took me a moment to realize what they meant. I looked pregnant, with my midsection bulging out in front of me, pressing against the edge of the desk. I looked pregnant because I was pregnant. Of course I was pregnant. How could I not be, by now? I had been pumping load after load of sperm into myself, for months now. I hadn't expected it because it had never been possible for me before. I tried to think back to when my last period was, but I couldn't be sure. I'd never gotten into the habit of tracking it.

A home test confirmed it. I fucked my cock again that night, knowing it had knocked me up. I had knocked me up. It didn't seem to notice that anything had changed. It didn't seem any less determined to impregnate me, when it pressed against my cervix and let loose its semen deep inside me.

I went back to see my doctor, and I explained the situation, although by then it was obvious enough. He asked me again if I wanted to keep it. This time, he meant the fetus growing inside me.

"But...if I'm the mother and the father..." I began. I didn't dare call it incest. "...won't it be inbred?"

"Sure, that could be a problem if we left it untreated. But why would we do that?" he said. The same kind of gene therapy that had made all this possible in the first place was coming to the rescue again. "Think of it like giving birth to an identical twin."

That didn't make it sound any less incestuous to me. Somehow I preferred to think of it like cloning myself, just growing the clone inside me rather than a vat or a surrogate. I don't know, that seemed weird too. There was no non-weird way to think about it.

I thought on it hard. I at least wanted to sleep on the decision, as big as it was. That night I told myself I wasn't going to give in. I figured I needed a break just to clear my head. But I woke up in the middle of the night sweaty and desperately aroused. When I eventually went back to sleep, it was still lodged inside of me, its erection finally waning.

In the morning, I decided to keep the baby. After all, giving birth and mothering a child was an opportunity I never could have dreamed of as a kid.

I haven't decided yet what I'll tell my daughter, once she's old enough to wonder where she came from. Maybe that I had a one-night stand. On the other hand, maybe by then there will be other kids brought into the world the same way. Maybe she'll deserve to know what kind of miracles can happen. I wouldn't want to hide from her who I was, and the journey I went through.

It won't be long now, until I get to go to the hospital and come home with my little miracle. Until then, it's just me and my friend in the saltwater tank. I still feel weird and gross and messy inside, but I'm starting to make piece with the idea that that's a part of me too, part of this one big sexy package deal.