Chapter 6: Spreading
The dimly lit apartment was a stark contrast to the sterile, humming environment of the cloning room. Warm, soft lights cast a golden glow over the plush furniture and ornate decorations that adorned the cozy space. A faint scent of vanilla and jasmine lingered in the air, a testament to Sarah's taste for subtle, sensual fragrances. The sounds of soft, melodic piano music filled the room, creating an atmosphere of relaxed intimacy.
Thomas stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room.
The scene before him was a tableau of debauchery that sent a jolt of both shock and desire through his veins. Sarah lay sprawled on her back on the bed, her legs spread wide, her fingers buried deep in her own pussy. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes closed, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Beside her, one of his clones knelt, his mouth locked onto her right breast, his tongue lashing against her nipple with relentless fervor. The sight of her, so wanton and uninhibited, sent a fresh surge of blood to his already rock-hard cock.
The music pulsed through the air, the rhythm of the piano mirroring the movement of Sarah's hips as she fucked her own fingers with a desperation that was both erotic and unsettling. He had never seen her like this, so utterly consumed by her own pleasure.
Thomas's eyes lingered on the scene, his own desires stoked by the raw, unbridled lust on display. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, the scent of her arousal heavy in the air. He wanted in on this, to feel her body convulse under his touch, to hear her cries of pleasure.
But when he stepped into the dimly lit apartment, he saw four clones fucking his ex-girlfriend, Sarah. The sight sent a jolt of shock and betrayal through him, stealing his breath away. He had never imagined that his own creations, borne from his own desires, would be used to defile someone he once loved. The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies slapping against each other, their moans and groans mingling with the soft piano music that played in the background. Sarah looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and arousal, her body trembling with the force of their combined touches. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The clones, however, seemed unbothered by his presence. They continued their carnal dance, their bodies moving in sync with one another, their hands exploring every inch of her flesh.
Thomas watched, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants as he took in the sight before him. Thomas stood rooted to the spot, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched his ex-girlfriend being pleasured by his own clones. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body aching with a desperate need to join them, to feel her body convulse under his touch. But as he stared at the scene before him, he felt a pang of jealousy and betrayal.
He had created these clones, after all, using his own DNA and memories. They were an extension of him, and now they were here, fucking his ex-girlfriend when she had refused him time and time again. He saw the way her eyes lit up when they touched her, heard the way her moans escalated when they entered her. The realization sent a wave of anger crashing through him.
Sarah's eyes fluttered open as she felt Thomas's gaze on her. She looked at him, her face flushed with pleasure and something else, something that looked like pity. "Thomas," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. "I'm sorry. I can't... I don't want you like this. I only want them." She gestured to the clones, her hand trembling as she spoke. Thomas felt a cold, hard lump form in his throat.
The sight of his ex-girlfriend, Sarah, writhing in pleasure under his clones, sent a surge of primal desires and possessive rage through him. He couldn't understand how she could be so drawn to them, when she had always pushed him away. With trembling hands, he grasped the zipper of his pants and pulled it down, his eyes never leaving the tableau before him. He watched, his heart pounding in his chest, as his clones took turns plunging into her, their bodies moving with a synchronized rhythm that spoke of a shared understanding. Sarah's cries of pleasure echoed through the room, her body arching with each thrust.
"Why them?" Thomas growled, his voice thick with emotion. "Why not me?" Sarah turned to him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her eyes filled with a mix of arousal and confusion.
"Not... not you, Thomas." Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's them. Thems."
Thomas watched, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants, as his clones continued their carnal dance with Sarah. He could see the way her body responded to their touch, the way her hips lifted to meet their thrusts, and it fueled a fire within him that he hadn't known existed. He wanted that, wanted her to respond to him like that, wanted to be the one making her scream his name.
The Thomas clone to her left, the one with the slight scar on his shoulder, pulled out of her with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her juices. He turned to Thomas, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "You see, old man?
She doesn't want you," the clone with the scar sneered, thrusting his hips forward in a taunting gesture. "She wants us. Four of us, to fill her up, to make her scream." Sarah's eyes widened in shock, her body convulsing as another clone, this one with a mole above his left eyebrow, slammed into her from behind, his hips slapping against her ass with a force that made Thomas wince. He watched, his heart pounding in his chest, as Sarah's back arched, her fingers clawing at the sheets, her body writhing in a desperate dance of pleasure and pain. "We can do things to her, make her feel things, that you never could," the clone with the scar continued, his voice a low, taunting growl.
As if to emphasize his point, the clone with the mole, the one now thrusting into Sarah from behind, leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear. "You can't compete with us, old man," he whispered, his voice thick with desire and malice. "Look at her. She's ours now."
Sarah's body shuddered at his words, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fought to maintain control. She knew what they were doing, knew that they were trying to bait him, to provoke a reaction. But it was working. She could see the anger and jealousy in Thomas's eyes, could feel the tension radiating off him in waves.
"I'm sorry, Thomas," she whispered, her voice thick with desire and something else, something that sounded almost like fear. "I can't... Her eyes flicked to his clones, her body shuddering with anticipation.
"Only them, Thomas," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. "I don't want you. I never did."
A cold, hard lump settled in Thomas's stomach as he watched his clones take turns ravaging Sarah's body. He could do nothing but stand there, his cock aching and heavy in his pants, as his creations brought her to the brink of ecstasy again and again. The clones grunted and groaned, their bodies slick with sweat as they pounded into her, their features twisted with primal lust.
"That's it, baby," the first clone, the one with the scar, taunted as he pulled out of her. "Take our cum. Fill yourself with it." the clones moaned, her hips bucking as she sought out more.
One of the clones, now spent, grabbed her hips and held her still, his cock still buried deep inside her. "Now, Thomas, it's your turn," he sneered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "She's all warmed up for you." With a final thrust, he pulled out, his cum dripping onto the sheets. The other clones followed suit, their bodies trembling with the aftermath of their shared conquest.
Thomas, his heart pounding with a mix of humiliation and desperation, stepped forward. He had watched as his creations filled Sarah, their bodies moving with a primal grace that he could never match. But he couldn't resist. He wanted her, wanted to feel her, even if it was only the sloppy seconds that his clones had left behind. He climbed onto the bed, his body trembling with need as he positioned himself between her legs.
He could feel her warmth enveloping him, her body slick with the evidence of his clones' possession. He entered her, feeling her tighten around him, a mixture of satisfaction and envy coursing through him. Sarah's eyes met his, her expression a mix of pleasure and pity. "Thomas," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm sorry." But her body betrayed her words, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts, her fingers digging into his back. Thomas grunted, his grip on her tightening, his body moving with a desperate urgency.
He knew he was being used, knew that she found him pathetic, but he couldn't stop. He needed this, needed to feel her, even if it was just to fill the void left by his clones. Sarah lay beneath him, her eyes closed, her body barely moving. She didn't want him, didn't need him. She just wanted him to finish, wanted him to get it over with so she could be done with this charade. She could feel the humiliation radiating off him in waves, could see the desperation in his eyes. It made her feel sick, made her want to scream at him to stop, to leave her alone. But she didn't. She just lay there, her body stiff, her mind a million miles away.
As Thomas's thrusts became more erratic, more frantic, Sarah's thoughts turned to his clones.
She could still feel them inside her, their cum dripping out of her and onto the sheets below. She felt a wave of guilt wash over her as she realized how much she had enjoyed what they had done to her. It was wrong, she knew it was, but she couldn't deny the pleasure she had found in their touch, in their possession of her. She looked up at Thomas, his face contorted with effort and desire, and she felt a pang of pity. She knew he could sense it, could sense the difference between them, the way her body responded to them and not to him. She whispered, "I'm sorry, Thomas. Thomas's body stilled at her words, his eyes widening in shock and betrayal. He had barely begun to move inside her when he felt his own release, his orgasm ripping through him with a pathetic desperation. He collapsed on top of her, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body slick with sweat. Sarah lay beneath him, her eyes closed, her body limp and unresponsive. It was over, and it had been little more than a humiliating spectacle. Thomas had taken barely a minute, his body jerking and twitching with a pathetic haste that left Sarah barely aware that he had even been inside her. He rolled off of her, his body trembling with the aftermath of his premature release. Sarah opened her eyes, her expression neutral as she looked up at the ceiling. She didn't move, didn't speak, didn't acknowledge his presence in any way. Thomas lay beside her, his body aching with a mixture of humiliation and fear.
He had barely caught his breath when he heard the clones stirring, their bodies shifting and moving like a restless beast. Sarah's eyes flicked to him, a hint of apology in her gaze, before she turned her attention back to the clones. "Not again," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can't take anymore." But the clones were not deterred. They moved as one, their bodies synchronizing as if they shared a single mind. The clone with the scar, the ringleader, leaned over her, his lips brushing against hers in a taunting kiss. "You can take more, Sarah," he whispered, his voice thick with lust and malice. "We'll make sure of it." Before she could respond, the clone with the mole grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pulled her towards him.
Thomas looked up at the sight, the humiliation and defeat etched on his face. He couldn't bear to watch any longer. With a heavy sigh, he gathered his clothes and dressed, trying his best to ignore the moans and grunts that filled the room.
As he left Sarah's apartment, the sound of her cries of pleasure still ringing in his ears, Thomas felt a profound sense of defeat. He had come here, hoping to rekindle something, anything, with Sarah. He had wanted her to look at him the way she looked at his clones, with desire and longing. But he had been a fool. Sarah wanted them, and only them. He was nothing more than an afterthought, a consolation prize.
Thomas stepped out into the cool night air, the hum of the city mingling with the soft piano music that still played in the apartment.