No Clones Here!

A little Cloning/Mayternity vignette that popped into my head and had to be written.

Enjoy!

***

“You’re not one of them clone-birthing, hyper breeder bunnies, are you?” Randolph asked.

“No sir,” Rebecca said, smiling anxiously at her boss. The old bat’s office was expansive, but cramped, full of papers, reports, and filing cabinets full of both.

“No? No immediate relations? Don’t need more than one to make your family tree explode.”

“No sir. No walking population bombs that I know of.”

“Hm.” Randolph’s gaze dropped to the heavily gravid bulge of her belly, a past third trimester-sized bump that had already claimed one of the buttons of her dress shirt and threatened to take more if not given the space that it deserved. “And what do you call that, then?”

“Call what, sir? Oh, this? That’s nothing. My, uh, boyfriend just came really hard in me this morning.”

“I see.” He didn’t, really. Rebecca knew for a fact how poor her boss’ eyesight was; he hadn’t once commented on the huge, distinctly masculine bulge that had been growing between her legs over her months of internship. “Well, I’m glad that’s sorted. No hiveminds in this workplace, let me tell you. I had one of them fellas before, and they were nothing but trouble. Got work done in a jiffy, sure, but you wouldn’t believe what kind of pay they had the gall to demand! Not for me. Not now, not ever.”

“Sounds dreadful, sir,” Rebecca said, half-turning as something inside her kicked, and her belly expanded by another inch or two. “Will—will that be all?”

“One more thing. I’ve had enough of this ‘Mayternity’ nonsense. Take this poster. Put up some copies around the office.”

“Copies. Got it, sir.”

***

Rebecca made it to the break room in the nick of time. It was empty, thank god—the exact opposite of her, feeling fuller than she’d ever been. Her belly had swollen with every hurried step through the office, and if that wasn’t enough, her breasts had decided to join in, outgrowing her reinforced bra as if she hadn’t just spent several hundred bucks on new lingerie. Sometimes, she had to wonder who was really in control; her, or her body…

But this was no time for profundity. Her taut, bulging belly had launched a second projectile off her shirt, bursting through in slow motion, and she needed relief. So, Rebecca hiked up her skirt in short order, pulled her panties aside, and—just like that—birthed a copy of herself.

For a moment she reeled, both from the impossible passage of an adult woman stretching her pussy from the inside—an experience pleasurable enough for at least a few orgasms in more leisurely circumstances—but also from the freaky sensation of her mind splitting in two, one part of senses remaining in place while another fragment pushed out into that fresh, new body, tumbling onto the dingy couch and taking a moment to right herself.

“F-fuck,” she murmured, glancing up hurriedly as footsteps approached from the outside.

“Coast is still clear,” her clone said, their spoken words reverberating through their psychic connection. “I’ll hold the door. You can push out a few more.”

“I guess.” Rebecca bit her lip, looking down at herself. Her belly had barely shrunk an inch, still obnoxiously swollen and full of life. And she could feel it straining to grow, still, inflating unceasingly from the inside. “We’re fucked. He’ll notice for sure.”

“Not if we keep birthing!” her copy replied, pushing her plush, well-shaped rump against the break room door to keep their privacy. “Get to pushing!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Rebecca grunted. There was a wet thump behind her as her second clone dropped free. “Did our cock grow again? You’re dangling past your knees.”

“Looks like it,” the third bunny said, smoothly joining the conversation mere seconds after being born. “Guess skirts are going to be no-go, until we pick up some heavy-duty compression undies.”

The original might’ve made a comment about it—and the way her underwear dug into her half-hard girlcock—if she wasn’t currently shivering through a string of mini-climaxes as she birthed clone numbers three, four, and five in short order.

“Damn,” one of her noted, toying with one of her head-dwarfing tits, “we’re really full, huh?”

“You think?” Rebecca hissed. “My shirt is wrecked and I’m barely making progress on the belly. And if I do get the spare blouse buttoned up around it, the rest of me might burst free anyhow!”

At this point, she clone-birthed without pause, her naked bodies piling up in a heap behind her faster than they could crawl away. Though while she had to take care with her office dress, lest she be rumbled the moment she left the break room, her clones had no such concerns and eagerly explored each other’s bodies, feeling up their soft, sexy curves and outrageously virile cocks. It didn’t take long for the stroking to turn to kissing, oral sex, and outright fucking.

“Oh, c’mon!” Rebecca called, blushing bright red at the excesses of her reflections. “Guys! We really need this job!”

“So go do it. We’ll hold the fort,” the three dozen bunnies told her, brazenly pushing her towards the exit as they filled the break room to bursting. “Your belly’s smaller now. They won’t notice.”

“They’ll notice my giant, throbbing cock! It’s not like I can ignore feeling myselves fuck!”

“Think of something else,” a clone helpfully offered. “Like how much fatter our cock is gonna grow from all this exercise. How thick our booties will get. How much we’re going to knock ourselves up!”

Rebecca was shoved out into the corridor. The door slammed shut after her.

She balled up her fists. Those bitches. Utterly incorrigible.

And she would have done the exact same thing. In a sense, she had. 

Oh well, she thought. She had some photocopying to do…