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“Welcome to Doctor Silva’s House of Terrors and Wonders,” the blinking sign proclaimed.
Dr. Josek Silva frowned, seeing a smudge on a colorful plexiglass corner. He called one of his employees with a tight gesture and pointed at the dirt.
Without a word, the man—who looked extremely similar to him—ran for a nearby ladder, then climbed up and started scrubbing it.
Josek didn’t smile.
He went into the towering building. He scrutinized the lobby, noting the lowered eyes of the receptionist—another clone—then passed by the gaudy entrance for the customers. Instead, he opened an unassuming ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ door beyond the corridor’s corner. In a small, sterile-looking room he changed into white overalls, then—via the elevator opposite the door—he descended into the bellows of his laboratory.
His private kingdom.
He had to check on a few projects.
The new batch of chimeras he designed and grew to awe and terrify the customers was coming along nicely—six weird mixes of cat, bird, and alien.
In the next room, a monstrous, tentacled blob was slowly being trained out of its inborn aggression; soon, the customers would be able to approach it without danger, even if it would always need regular maintenance.
Josek stroked the agonized face—his own—of the ‘employee’ he had tasked with redirecting the monster’s violent tendencies into sexual energy. The naked man lay on his back on a bench, bound and gagged, his lower body pushed through an opening in the wall and into the monster’s enclosure. Three strategically placed cameras showed Josek how this iteration of the breeding process was progressing.
A fat tentacle dilated the clone’s glistening, swollen anus beyond what many would consider humanly possible, then bloated his belly, which towered over the rest of his body like an impressive, moving dome. The caged cock was also occupied—a thick, green appendage spearing torment into its tiny hole.
The man looked up at Josek, a mute plea in his eyes.
Josek smiled and patted his head.
He checked the man’s pulse, blood pressure, and hormone levels, and decided this particular subject could take at the very least one more hour.
He left for the next room.
Here, the lights were dimmed. Tall glass capsules lined the walls, showing the shapes of human bodies slowly forming inside. All had Josek’s skin, Josek’s height, and Josek’s face, although the musculature was more pronounced on them than the original. They were also younger—Josek always aimed for twenty-five to start with for his copies. That was old enough for their brains to have properly formed, and young enough they could handle all the... ah… menial jobs Josek required them for.
And there were many, many jobs.
After all, the law stated that, without the direct supervision of the ethics committee, you could only experiment on yourself.
At the end of the narrow room, the next batch of clones was almost ready. There were three of them, still not awake but twitching faintly from the intense stimulation delivered directly to their nipples, prostates, and cocks. Proper stimulation pre-emergence was crucial for making them obedient. Josek put vibrating pumps on their chests and inserted long probes into their anuses and urethras exactly six months before they were ready. He kept them cumming constantly—permanently hard, their refractory period nullified with under-the-counter pharmaceutics. In this state, they were completely unaware of the ecstasy wrecking through their unconscious bodies. Their flesh remembered, though, all their nerves primed for pleasure forevermore.
All of them denied as soon as they woke up.
Actually, that was the secret to Josek’s success.
All of his cloned ‘employees’ wanted... well. Wanted. They emerged from nonexistence, cocks already permanently caged, the indestructible synthetic material printed directly onto their flesh. For the rest of their lives, their bodies would remember the all-encompassing bliss of cumming unrestrained, and they’d long for it—without knowing what they were longing for. To come closer to achieving that vague dream—this unknowable pinnacle lurking at the very edge of their unconscious memories—they’d do anything Josek demanded of them.
Especially if it came with strong stimulation to the prostate.
The law stated the original owned all his clones, anyway, but still it was one more incentive and security measure. The overwhelming, brain-burning sexual frustration kept his copies willing and meek. Subservient. That’s what allowed Josek to sleep well at night—knowing that if he provided them with even a smidge of pleasure, no matter how much discomfort and pain it came with, his clones would do whatever he asked of them and never, ever rebel.
Josek left the cloning chamber and went to the chimera pens. Four men were tasked with keeping them clean, so the scent of animal in the air was barely recognizable. The doors to the stalls were soundproofed and vacuum-closed, and the fact that these were technically stables wasn’t obvious.
A clone greeted Josek with a low bow.
The clone stood at attention while Josek scrutinized the man’s gray uniform, looking for imperfections. When he found none, he glanced at the huge surveillance screen hanging on the wall opposite the pen doors. “Why isn’t the repti-cat being attended to?” he asked.
The clone paled. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Master. We haven’t got the manpower.”
“Hmm. And where are your fellow stable boys?”
“Three-oh-one is cleaning the hellhounds’ pen, Seven-five is, um, attending the lamia, and One-twenty-six got stuck in the snakeaters’ enclosure, so we’re waiting for them to get bored with him.”
“Are the snakeaters breeding him?’
“The male one already did. Now the female is laying eggs, sir.”
“Show me the live footage.”
The clone switched the source of the image on the screen, and now—instead of a pacing repti-cat—it showed a wide, green-painted room. In the center of it, a shape was moving—a hairy, twisting thing with too many limbs and, on its thicker side, two pairs of red mandibles snapping rhythmically in the air.
A twitching human leg protruded from under it.
“Did they attempt to attack him?” Josek asked.
“No. That’s why we haven’t tried to take him out. We figured angering the creatures would be more dangerous than letting the things…ah. Run their course.”
“Good, good.” Josek switched cameras and manipulated the angle so he could see One-twenty-six’s well-filled anus. The snakeater’s ovipositor bulged from it obscenely, pulsing from time to time as it deposited yet another egg. “This pair wasn’t bred before, was it?”
“No.”
“And it already looks like their first clutch is going to be large. Seems we’ve got ourselves two well-matched, natural-born breeders. Hmm… When the female is done laying, have One-twenty-six incubate the eggs for three days. Then—when this pair is fertile again—they shall breed him once more, then again, and again, until the creatures bond both with each other and with him, and we can make him their primary handler.”
The clone typed, entering Josek’s instructions into the monsters’ care plan.
“Now, about that repti-cat.”
The clone shifted uneasily. “Yes, Master?”
“It’s due for a rut soon, isn’t it?”
“The day after tomorrow at the latest.”
“If it enters the rut naturally, it could become unwieldy. And we have that show planned tomorrow night.”
Really, Josek didn’t have to explain anything to the clone—not like the man had a choice except to obey—but over the years, he had learned that the clones were much less reluctant when they knew what was going on.
Seemed like he had inquisitiveness encoded in his very DNA.
“Go prepare yourself,” he said. “I’ll supervise.”
The clone lowered his eyes and nodded.
His cheeks were already flushed.
Josek dragged a chair from behind the clone’s makeshift desk and positioned it so that he could see the entirety of the big screen when he sat.
Soon, the clone entered the repti-cat’s enclosure, naked. The chimera, clearly familiar with his scent, nosed his groin, then neck. Its pitch-black, scale-covered tail lashed from left to right, but its body remained relaxed, showing that the large creature was agitated but not aggressive. The clone let it lick him with a large, sandpaper-like tongue, flinching but not trying to avoid it when the repti-cat darted behind him and dipped the tongue into his cleft.
His face scrunched, but he spread his legs and arched his back to give the raspy swipes better access.
On his tablet, Josek checked this particular clone’s data, and yes, Eight-five attended this repti-cat for seven of its recorded nine ruts. That’s probably why the man was so unwilling—he knew perfectly well what was in store for him.
The clone walked to the back of the enclosure and tugged the breeding bench out of the wall. Behind him, the repti-cat paced restlessly, alert ears pointing up. Its scales bristled, muscles coiled, and, under its belly, a dripping cock slid out of its sheath, flushed a gleaming red.
Josek zoomed in on the swaying penis.
It was as thick as his forearm. In fact, its pointed tips—there were two—resembled two palms put together in prayer. Josek knew they’d open deep inside, then drag the sharp, fleshy barbs over the overstretched walls of the rectum as the creature withdrew. There wouldn’t be much regular pleasure in it for the clone, since the gap between the tips would prevent the cock from putting any significant pressure on the prostate. Still, the man’s hole was so primed it would gladly welcome any stimulation, no matter how unsatisfying or painful.
Josek watched as his double lowered himself into position. Immediately, the restraints snapped in place, immobilizing his neck, hands, and legs. The front of the bench lowered, and the knee supports spread, raising the clone’s buttocks—his lubed hole opening invitingly between them.
The repti-cat jumped.
The huge cock slotted in.
The clone keened.
Josek turned up the volume to hear the tormented sounds better, his hand straying towards the bulge at his crotch.
There was something about watching yourself be violated without actually being violated, well, yourself. The ultimate fantasy, realized safely. He had never experienced what his clone was now feeling as a sex-hungry monster cock rearranged his insides. He never would—and neither did he want to. The image was fascinating; the clone’s reactions—twisting Josek’s face, wrenching tears out of Josek’s eyes—pumped dense heat into Josek’s underbelly. His hand moved between his legs, inside a convenient slit of his white overalls, in the fast, snappy rhythm of the fucking.
He came when the repti-cat did.
The chimera withdrew its only slightly limper cock from the clone’s red, ruined ass—the hole winked, tightened, then a pressured stream of cum spurted out, marring the perfect blackness of the repti-cat’s scaly belly.
The clone struggled uselessly in his bonds.
They held.
For a while, the repti-cat licked the cum-leaking hole, then it mounted the human again.
Josek stretched, righted his clothes, and wiped his soiled hand with a piece of gauze.
It seemed the fuck indeed helped the chimera enter its rut prematurely, so all was well. It should be plenty fucked out before tomorrow, so showing it to the customers would be safe.
Josek reminded himself to delegate another clone to supervise the pens, turned the screen off, and left.