Clone Ch. 01

"Yes, if I'm free," I replied.

Her gown was vee'd to the belt, giving new meaning to the term 'neck line' as in 'plunging'. The diaphanous material under it showed the swell of her breasts, under my robe my cock began to stiffen again.

She flitted off to another table, leaving me with a growing hard on. Looking around people were in little knots, hunched round the low tables. Little did they know of their future, the property of some master or mistress be they kind or cruel.

My body was largely under my control, my alter ego not disputing my command excepting a twinge or two when a command was given. I hadn't tried to exercise my voice explicitly yet, whoever bundled me in here might still be observing, here was safe and cosy.

I wondered who I was on the outside, the events that saw me here, the people who had done it to me. The most important thing to me was recovering my memory. After that it'd be a whole new ball game.

One of the white coats stepped in front of me.

"Fra?" she questioned.

"Yes," I answered.

"Back to your room," she ordered.

She followed me back, walking into the room behind me and starting to undress immediately slipping her coat of to reveal her corseted figure; she had no panties and sported a thin, untrimmed landing strip.

She bent and retrieved a small tub.

"I'm your first ass fuck, but first I want to test your tongue," said almost as an offhand comment as she stooped to remove her shoes.

She had me lay on the bed, stripped of my few clothes and positioned in the middle as she straddled me, then she knelt. Her calves pressed to my head, feet looped over my shoulders and her pubes brushing my nose.

Looking up I could see her looking back at me.

"Make it a good one," she commanded.

I began, letting my tongue tickle through the thin curtain of hair that remained, brushing along the pouting lips concealed beneath. She shivered with anticipation, pressing lightly against me; I let my tongue repeat the action as her widening legs let her pink flower blossom onto it.

I lapped at the juices beginning to flow, twirling my tongue in her hunny pot. I saw her hands go to grasp the headboard as she thrust her hips down, positioning her clit above my lips. I pushed in and sucked at it, drawing it in to let my tongue stroke its tip.

I shifted my neck slightly and started a 'suck-squeeze' rhythm, drawing it in and out, her body trembled above me again, pressing just a bit firmer, I put my hands to her ass and eased her and started the alphabet.

As I got to P her weight slumped down as her body arched backwards and her cum flooded down my chin.

A memory hit me, the depletion treatment for my beard. I shrunk back to my corner, letting my alter ego hurriedly go from being an observer to actor.

While I left him to continue fronting I had a clear recollection of sitting and facing the laser treatment, my face began to smart, despite the local anaesthetic, it had the 'glow' of sunburn. I replayed it again, the ghost of a prickly tide sweeping across brought into focus.

I felt my muscles moving and refocused 'outside'.

'He', my alter ego, was fucking the ass of her. No, as my senses returned fully 'We' were fucking her straight, he was buried between the juicy lips and going for broke, I searched 'his' memories and found her screaming 'Fuck me, you were so good'.

She'd compounded it by saying "No, from behind," as he scrabbled between her legs.

Still, she was enjoying it now, right on the verge of her second orgasm. Another odd thought hit me, way back in history, hundreds of years back to the Victorians ten times was the limit on orgasms before 'Madness and addiction' crept in.

She pressed herself against me as she came, pushing on the headboard as he kept pounding her. Driving five of the seven to fill her each time, as he now single mindedly sought his own virgin release.

She came again before him, taking him past the threshold with the muscular contractions milking our cock. As he sagged against her I stepped in, resuming control to keep my cock buried, keep pleasing her.

When it dropped out it was the key to stir, I was breathing easy but she with the constricting corset was taking longer to catch her breath. She stretched out between my legs and turned to face me. Her breasts rising and falling and looking likely to lose the battle to stay contained.

I turned aside and lay next to her, turned in with my arm across her tummy, after a while and a few sighs she stirred again, this time to sit up.

"Next time you're going to fuck my ass as well. Your performance so far has got an A, A plus is after you pop my rosebud," she said, turning to me. "I'm planning my second helping now, before your schedule gets busy."

She moved to the side of the bed and picked up her uniform. My school uniform. A picture of me in my school uniform, then me graduating, standing in my gown and mortar. More and more things were triggering random memories.

She said something on the way out, it was to fuzzy to understand beyond the odd word 'Beast' as I phased back in again, sitting up to watch her back exit the door. With no command to do anything I was a free agent, at least until someone came looking again.

I had a choice of staying put or go back to the lounge and wait for the party that would be cover for the orgy I expected. They were using this as a testing ground for behaviour and performance; I expected everything to be monitored, with all that that implied.

I lay back and thought about my situation, to the technicians I was a cock in the wild, a fucking machine to be used as wanted, whatever they'd pumped into my system beside the one that killed my memory, had made me a satyr, or given me satyriasis.

Memory or no memory I was going to speak up, my body's co-host stirred at the drift of my thoughts, escape from this place, find space to find myself and sort the jumble of my mind. I couldn't find a solution to plan A, plan B was to convince someone I was real.

I climbed under the cover for comfort, feeling the fresh sheets on my nude body, the duvet light and airy. What to say, was the next thing to pin up on the board to brainstorm. What made me human that I could use to convince them?

I was still deep in thought when Jant returned.

She came over and pulled the bedclothes back.

"You look fucked out, Clauda said you gave her four,"

I said nothing as she sat on the bed next to me.

"There's a lot odd about you, you look older than the usual teeny boppers we get, maybe a medical could tell? I've wiped you from the system as a technical teaching error, you don't exist again, we'll sort your implant out later. Tomorrow morning you're going to sneak out of here, me and you together as they change."

I bit my tongue back,

"Hi, I'm frank, I can't remember anything else but I'm human like you."

It was a lame start that never got said, better I think more on my response to the 'Prove it' riposte. Given that I had no memory, no backstory, only a potential flag for schizophrenia, my dual existence inside my body.

"There's a mystery in you that's unconnected to Melanie's secret supply," she continued, leaning back against the foot board. "You look too normal, too old. A square peg that has its own programming."

There might be a route, exceeding the alter ego's half programmed mind.

She stood and straightened her coat. "I'll be back to take you to tea."

I relaxed back; I assumed that as she had planned our escape for the morning that she would spend the night with me. That would be the ideal time to take the matter up with her.

I went for my evening meal, the dining room and lounge was sparsely populated, with no one eating at all, the robot was at my table as I sat down, I took his recommendation this time and enjoyed a juicy steak, along with another half bottle of fine wine.

I took my coffee back to my room, I found a vid screen in my room, the painting I touched was a sensitized screen. I touched the menu button and had a bewildering array of options; I selected seascapes, more on a gut feeling, and got rows of thumbnails.

I glanced through them, enlarging anything with even a hint of familiarity, scrolling row by row. Then there it was, it was like a vivid snapshot, me on a ridge overlooking a mighty bridge, the bridge before me was stormy, but in my mind it was a misty September day, with a picnic to celebrate something. Another random piece to throw on the table to wait.

Wait I did, time drifted. I spent time calling up more random images on the screen but other than recognising the home planets there were no more hidden triggers.

After a while I set it to a gentle lapping tide and stripped and climbed into bed, just lying sitting against the headboard. The screen was in line of view, somewhere a nag prodded the idea to speak to command it, it was voice activated.

"Computer, news!" I said to the screen.

The screen filled with thumbnails, I reached out, my hand in mid air pointing to selected one, I widened my finger and thumb and it enlarged, some language I didn't speak commenting on some event I knew nothing about.

"Sports!"

The screen flickered then the thumbnails popped up again, there was one on grass, I pinched it and flicked it full screen. Some game with a load of men kicking and chasing a ball, at least the commentary was in my language as I heard him describing the action.

And then I was thinking of Dirac space, or rather the Dirac phenomena of sub space, one of my classes of compulsory physics. The propagation of information instantaneously to all places at one time. The concept of quantum physics slotted back into place, along with a little pride.

When Jant came back I got in first.

"Jant, I've got something to say," I told her half way in the door.

"Later Fra, " she replied. "First you're going to fuck me as thanks for all the hard work I put in devising and preparing."

"My names Frank, I'm some sort of scientist, I have amnesia from your learning drug and am a mystery to myself."

She stopped as she approached me, then walked forward and sat at the bottom of the bed again.

"Say it again," she asked. My alter ego was trying to oust me, I could feel the panic my words induced.

"I'm human, I was in here when you put the other 'personality' in. I don't know how to convince you but I'm a real me."

She leant back, appearing to consider the proposition.

"Your being real would fit a lot of facts, the piece that makes sense of the puzzle," she conceded.

"I am," I stated firmly. "I'm independent of your orders, exerting my own will, I just don't know who I am."

"We could run your DNA through the system..."

"I'm a geneticist," I exploded. A sudden flash of DNA had given me certainty. The genitals on the screen clicked in as did Shelia and the nipples.

"I've got a lab here," I exclaimed. Though I had no idea of where 'here' was.

"Whoa, slow down, you just remembered all this?" she said with suspicion edging her voice.

"Did you collect my DNA for project comparison?"

"I didn't bother with yours, you had no profile."

"Yes," I agreed. "No profile, no comparison, sorry."

"Let's try the backdoor before the front, if you've gone missing..."

"Talk to a girl called Shelia there, she's a red head in her thirties, she'll know I'm missing."

She sat and thought for a moment. "Tomorrow we can do that, tonight we're gonna fuck."