Klonegistics 1B Ch. 01

"So class, for your final project, you will need to apply all the skills you have learned in this class. As you all know, Klonegistics 1C will nearly require you to create clones to aid with your workload. As such, this should be your crash course in applied klonegistics and, should you go for the "a", a bit of advanced neurology." Professor Lanster began passing out the rubric, as if the entire class hadn't already started working on the project as soon as they got their fabriklons.

"For those that are somehow not aware, this project will take place outside of class for the most part, and you will be given a temporary cloning licence that will allow you to legally keep one sentient clone as a servant. As we've also already gone over, call campus police if you feel that your clone is a danger to yourself or others at all." Lanster sat back at her desk. "I understand that some of you may already have created clones for your own education or work. If you have, you can just present one of your finished clones, as long as it follows the rubric. Any questions?"

Hammond, the a+ student, raised his hand almost immediately.

"Yes?"

"Are we restricted at all in genetic templates? Or can we make alterations? Or-"

"It's explained in the rubric, but the only restrictions are that you have to use a Kester-Stable genome, modified however you deem necessary to aid the integrity of the genome, and grow the body yourself. You'll be graded on cellular integrity and neurological function, and of course if you want the extra points, create a fully sapient mind from base neurological function. If you're having trouble, and I expect many of you will, don't feel too bad about just dumping a brain scan in there."

I had started unpacking my fabriklon earlier in the month, but to be honest the assignment had crept up on me. Like many young men my age, I had faint images of hot chicks doting on my every need - I mean, hell, nine tenths of the class was male. It's not like anyone would judge me. Well, not in a way that mattered anyways. I started sketching out the rough edges of my project. On the one hand - I wanted a hot girl servant. On the other - I was near failing this class as is, and it was going to be fucking hard to get it right.

Back in my dorm, I started to really realize how fucked I was. We technically could use one of the ten base models, but I was willing to put in the work to figure out how to engineer someone to my tastes. Hah, no. Very wrong. Turns out, I still sucked at base chromosome manipulation, and my first couple attempts didn't even make it past replicase. Then I failed about ten more times over the course of several weeks before I decided to change course. I still wanted my clone to be unique... fuck it. I took a genome sample of myself, fucked with it a bit and bing badda boom, a unique female template. At least technically. Oh well.

With that barrier sloppily hacked over, I was able to get to work on the minutiae of what I really cared about - the appearance and genetic makeup of the clone. I had pretty curly hair, so I made sure to smooth it out and thicken it a bit. Her frame was actually a bit bulkier than mine - I was pretty skinny, and definitely had a thing for muscular women. Couple inches taller as well couldn't hurt, and all of a sudden "Marcella" as I was calling her was looking like an amazon. I predisposed her for muscularity and lower fat. I still had to account for "safely fat" as AGA regulations demanded, so I decided to put it into the breasts and butt, with a bit to pad the body so she didn't look roided out.

The next step was health - which usually was where my skill fell apart. I added a quick "patch" that I had from a project earlier in the year, a general block of genes with a custom immune system, enhanced circulatory and neurological systems, reworked the digestive system in general, and got rid of or changed a lot of the crap organs such as the appendix. The human body was pretty shit when it got down to it. I knew that would probably work how I intended, so I decided to get busy on a custom module for my own clone. There were subservience and libido modules online easy enough, but who knows what the faculty were doing these days to check for plagiarism. They would have cut only a few hours of work anyways, because I intended to be very specific with my reproductive system changes: I wanted to see if I could replace the base traits that females were attracted to biologically with traits that I specifically possessed. In a way, I would be the perfect man for her. I'd heard enough horror stories of clones rejecting their creators handedly. With the design mostly worked over in fabriklon, I hit "start". I then went to bed, apprehensively awaiting an error message the next morning.

Surprisingly however, I did not. Instead, the coffin-like glass to the fabriklon was fogged over, and my heart began pounding against hope. I popped the seal, and flipped up the lid to see magnificence! After about a month of failure after minor success, I had before me a fully living clone, and my god was she brilliant. Almost six and a half feet of amazonian goddess, blonde hair draped under her like a blanket. I couldn't resist playing with her breasts a bit, perfect pillows that would fill with sweet-tasting milk on arousal. Of course, if I woke her up she'd be pretty much brain dead, but massive success! I'd keep her on life support while I figured out the brain, and of course if I fucked up the neurological component I'd have to terminate her and start over with the fabriklon.

The MESMER was a kit I had received last year as part of Kloneurotics 101 last quarter, and it rather resembled a helmet with a usb coming out of it. It's function was twofold: It could scan a brain, and it could interpolate a brain onto a mostly blank one in .fabriklon format neuron tissue. I was interested in the second function, by which I was going to inject a personality and emotional experiences into her. To be perfectly honest, I sucked at this part. The MESMER bit I was fucking great at, sure, but it wasn't the bulk of the class. What I hated was the ridiculous psychoanalyzing that went into curating specific personalities. It felt like guesswork. You had a huge amount of experiences planned out to make somebody amicable, and then adding a negative experience to nudge their opinions some way made them a psychopath. You'd think that somebody would have standardized it by now, and there were guides online, but again, those turned into nebulous guesswork. Like god dammit, I followed your instructions to create a pianist and instead she has a proclivity for mechanics.

Anyways, my POINT is that this shit was hard. I was going to give it a couple tries at least though. Again, the need for it to be self-created really drove me on this project, far more than others in the past.

I gave her many, MANY positive experiences with sex, and I even tried to link them up to me as well. For a tendency towards subservience, an adherence towards authority was required, as well as a fear of breaking the rules. She would have a servant personality, but love sex. That was the idea. I figured that I'd get at least something workable, and then see how I had to tweak it. That being said, this would be the first iteration that resembled the final product. I hit the "upload" button and headed to bed.

__________________________

For the past month now, I had been envisioning meeting "Marcella" for the first time. A class that I took for sociology called "cloning and ethics" made really clear that you should try your absolute hardest not to form emotional bonds with clones. They were expendable, disposable, didn't have rights, and, paradoxically, usually thought of themselves as human, which made forming those attachments dangerous. That said, what's a sex servant without a bit of love? I'd been creating her for a while now, and it was hard to say I wasn't at least a little invested in her well being - even if I was creating her to cater to my every whim. That night, I tossed and turned. They try and prepare you, but nothing really comes close to the existentialism of bringing a human-adjacent being into the world.

The next morning, I jumped out of bed with the full on intention of bailing on class. I cracked open the fabriklon and gazed once again upon the body of Marcella. Since I'd settled on the body design, I'd taken the liberty of buying and dressing her in a tube top and jeans. She was absolutely perfect. Maybe I was a little narcissistic, but I loved that she looked similarly different to me. It was basically me as the ideal woman, which fulfilled another fantasy that I'd never get to ride out. Speaking of riding...

I triple checked the MESMER and disconnected it from her head, and entered the jump-start sequence into the fabriklon. This was the final thing I could potentially fuck up - or I could have fucked up way back down the road somewhere and I was about to realize it here. If I had succeeded though, goddam I was happy. With a sharp intake of breath, Marcella opened her eyes.

"Who are you?" She frowned. "Who am I"

"I'm Nick, your name is Marcella. You can relax, you aren't in any danger. You are a Kester-stable humanoid genetic experiment of my own design. A bit of an existential crisis at this point or any within the next hour is expected and discouraged." I was paraphrasing the lines, but cut me a break, I was close to as nervous as she was. The good news was that the basic language packs I installed were working. She should have fluent spanish and german as well, just because I had a spare hour a week ago and knew the basics of those languages. Regardless, SHE FUCKING WORKED!

Clearly I need a course in poor thought timings, because she picked the moment of exhilaration to derail.

"I need to go, I'm sorry." Marcella said, trying to sit up. She pulled herself up with no issue, and quite frankly, I was slightly regretting my decision to make her able to kick my ass about then. She then stabilized herself on my desk.

"Marcella, you are in a state of disarray. If you'd allow me to explain-"

"I NEED TO LEAVE!" She shouted at me, and I could see tears begin to form at her cheeks. God dammit.

I was thinking through my options when suddenly they were all taken from me. Marcella grabbed a pencil from my desk and without hesitation stabbed herself through the chest.

Fuck me.

Welp. That was about two weeks spent on the brain, all to create an intensely autocidal personality. I tried it once again just to be sure. It took a day and a half to grow the clone and port the MESMER, and when she came to, she didn't even make it out of the fabriklon, bashing her skull against the sharp corner. Thank science for the depolymerizer, which deconstructed the corpses into base materials to form the next clones. The human body is expensive after all. I had only two weeks before the presentation of projects began, and quite frankly, I was fed up with my own ability to create neurological patterns. I figured it was the "life experiences" bit I had screwed up, and honestly I couldn't be fucked to fix that. That said, I did still want that "a". So I may have cut a metric fuckton of corners and scanned my own brain into Marcella. I then applied the strong sexual urges and appeals to authority, and prayed to whatever star gods in existence that the sexual urges were not the root cause of the autodestructive tendencies. I then set the MESMER to write mode, hooked it up to Marcella number three, headed to bed, and prayed it worked. This would save me SO much time if it did.

_________________________________

When I awoke, my bed felt like a fucking rock. Not too strange, my sleeping posture was shit. I rolled over and tried to get comfortable for another half hour. At least, I was going to, until my hand hit metal. I opened my eyes.

"Gah!" My voice sounded a bit weird, but that came second to the fact that I was laying down in a metal box.

"I'm Nick, your name is Marcella. You can relax, you aren't in any danger. You are a Kester-stable humanoid genetic experiment of my own design. A bit of an existential crisis at this point or any within the next hour is expected and discouraged."

Wait, that wasn't me talking.

Oh fuck.

I looked up to see somebody that looked exactly like me sitting at my desk, looking down at me. With rising panic, I looked down. The body I saw just wasn't me. For one, I didn't have big tits. For another, my arms were beefier, and I felt taller. For literally everything - I wasn't a girl! God dammit! My idiot brain forgot to reset identity memories!

"Fuck!"

"What?" 'Me' asked.

"I forgot to reset identity memories."

"FUCK!" The 'real' me looked over at the MESMER and confirmed what I just told him. He took a moment to think, and it dawned on me what he was thinking, because I literally was him.

"So you're me?"

"Yep"

"But in Marcella's body?"

"Dope. How is it?" God, was I really this inconsiderate?

"Pretty shit, I'm about to die." If I knew myself well enough though, that wasn't the new plan.

"Hold on. The project's due in a week and we both know I don't have enough time to figure out another clone. What say I let you stick around, I present you as my clone, and you can, uh, live? It sounds really rude when I say it aloud." No shit, sherlock.

"Kinda is, but I don't have another choice." Basic human survival instincts were kicking in here. I didn't want to die, even if I knew, deep down, that I was a failed experiment.

"Great!"

A palpable silence fell across the two of us as I started processing that I was the sex slave and he was the guy who made me.

"Can I, uh, go take a shower or something?" I asked. I just needed to be alone for a bit.

"Yeah. Yeah, go ahead. You, uh, know where everything is, right?"

"Yep"

For the first time, I rose to my feet. Holy shit, I was tall. I noticed Mark shrink back from me, eyes darting up and down my body. I couldn't really blame him, I mean, I knew how hard my libido was. He was probably already calculating when he'd be able to coax me out of my clothing. My life as I knew it was over, my friends wouldn't see me as myself, my family would see me as an abomination... but hey, I was the object of my own desire.

I entered the bathroom and quickly locked the door. I don't think I'd ever used it before, but I was really glad it was there. I also thanked myself for the large mirror, where I finally got a good look at myself. It was one thing seeing Marcella's unmoving body, but god DAMN I made a sexy woman. A good couple minutes passed while I was just flexing in the mirror, flipping my hair over my shoulder. That was another thing - I'd never had hair even down to my shoulder, and now it was down to my back. Boobs were also fun to play with, basically how you'd expect. They were just sensitive blobs on the front... Oh boy that's another minute without turning on the water. 'Mark' probably knew what she was doing, but whatever. I turned on the water and stepped under the shower. Immediately my mind started wandering, and so did my hands.

Again catching me by surprise was my vagina. The actual hole felt extremely strange to me, and it felt much better to just rub the clitoris. It was surprising just how much pleasure I felt just by rubbing myself. I found herself groping herself, squeezing handfuls of boob while the pleasure built. It reminded her of a time... wait, no, this was the first time. Who CARED though, this felt so fucking good. She felt a wave rising in me, and my legs began to shake. I carefully sat down and continued, the wave threatening to consume me. The pleasure grew and-

"Marcella, are you okay?" Fuck. I realized I had been moaning. I couldn't stop now though, I was so fucking close.

"yEP! I'm just fine, don't woRRY!" I squealed through a half whisper as I felt myself burst. Pleasure and fluid pushed itself out from me as I shuddered against the glass wall. My legs turned to jelly, and I came, hard. I'd masturbated plenty before, but this new sensation was just... perfect.

"Uh, yeah. Okay. Got it." I heard Mark walking away from the door, sure that he had just heard everything I just did. Honestly, fine. He was going to be jealous that I was the hot girl for a while. Also, he was definitely going to try and sleep with me, which, uh, gross. Another strike against my genius, but I couldn't believe that I just expected a clone I grew to just part her legs. Strange, because I put the modules in the other clone, so why didn't I -

Fuck.

Okay, so I totally probably gave myself modules that made me a horny supplicating bitch. Definitely explained why I was so calm right now, and definitely explained why the first thing I did was go to the bathroom and start touching myself. Shit. The good news is that the idea of fucking myself was disgusting. The bad news is that I could still visualize myself in my mind, and I was having a hard time putting myself out of my mind. My eyes, hell, MY EYES were dreamy, whatever the fuck that meant I could feel it. I was drawn to myself, the idiot that couldn't remember to disable identity synapses but was so horny he programmed me to slut all over him. Even thinking about him, I started having fantasies of him brushing my hair, cuddling me, fucking me - god DAMN IT. A little stream of wet continued to trickle out of my pussy, and I remembered an errant thought I had. I tentatively poked my finger back into myself, savored the feeling for a moment, and then brought the finger to my lips. I tasted better than anything I'd tasted in the past. Good to know that the taste bud changes worked at least. I put some elbow grease into that one. It also meant that whenever Mark came in my mouth, it would taste great. Wait, fuck, no, I would not be giving him a blowjob!

Maybe just a little bit?