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Introduction:

Cum swallowing and dark twists. Enjoy!
“Does it taste better warmed up?” Sierra (or Sierra 2, if she was being honest with herself) watched her coworker sip on a cup that had spent some time in the break room microwave.

“No. Just tastes warm.” Every other employee was a bombshell in Sierra’s eyes. It made sense; if you weren’t attractive, no one would want a clone of you. Though she thought of herself as the plainest of the sperm bank employees, it was the only self-esteem boost she could cling to in these dark days. The gorgeous blonde girl leaned back in her chair, her breasts virtually exploding out of her undersized white nursing dress. With her legs crossed, it looked like she had forgotten to wear pants today.

Sierra only had to look down at her own precarious cleavage to stop herself from passing judgment. “Ah...” And she went back to drinking her cold cup of runny egg whites, which (if she was being honest with herself again) was day-old semen from the community reservoir. Her first task of the day was to refill the milk cartons in the fridge with the left-over samples from the previous shift. As disgusting as the taste and texture were, it took a lot of willpower not to put her lips directly on the vat’s open tap and guzzle down a week’s worth of fertilized prostate juice. Mornings are the worst when you’re running on cum fumes.

“So you’re the new sex clone, huh?” the blonde girl asked.

Sierra paused mid-sip, eyes darting like she expected goons from the cloning clinic to burst into the room and repossess their property. She spent her first week at the 24-hour sperm bank assisting customers in grueling but filling 16-hour shifts, so this was her first actual chat with a coworker.“Relax you’re safe here; we’re all sex clones. Admitting it doesn’t mean you have to be ashamed of it. There’s plenty of cum to go around here, so no need to be competitive either.”

“T-thanks. I’m Sierra.”

“Nice to meet you, Sierra, but I don’t think we have time to chat. Doesn’t your shift start like... now?”

“Oh, shoot.”

Sierra tugged down on the skirt of her nurse uniform several times as she speed-walked to her assigned masturbation room. But stretching her skirt over her buns was always a two-second solution at best. Her bubbly ass simply refused to have its bottom-half covered. The uniforms were no doubt designed to titillate the customer and increase turnaround time, but being a sex clone didn’t mean you were comfortable meeting strangers with most of her tits and ass exposed. 

All sex clones had a few things in common, though: At some point, they were young, naïve, and short on cash. Clones4cash sounds like a pretty good deal for the identical copy who gets to walk away after the process. The other one is cursed with the memories of a normal life and—thanks to some adjustments in their microbiome—a constant thirst for seminal fluids and the incapacity to digest anything else. If they called her a sperm-addicted clone instead of a sex clone, it would still be derogatory, but it would at least be accurate.

It takes a strong will to escape your buyer as he is also your closest, most reliable source of jizz. Like outdoor cats, sex clones usually come crawling back to their master for loads with hungry mouths wide open before making it too far. But a lucky few find the rumored oasis: a sperm bank that doesn’t bank any of its sperm and instead redistributes the harvest. A clandestine operation run by sex clones, for sex clones. A place where they can suck and swallow all the baby batter they can drink without having to call anyone master or daddy.

“I’m so sorry for making you wait, sir.” Sierra entered the dimly lit room, the top of her compressed breasts undulating with every clumsy high-heel step and her dress riding high enough to make a man wonder if he might see a hint of slit if he could sink a little deeper into the upholstery of his chair. She held a tiny sample cup in her hands.

“Oh, it’s... it’s OK." The man seemed smitten by the nurse's looks and not just her tits and thighs. Despite her confidence issues, Sierra  had an effortless beauty and heartwarming smile. Her authentic shyness played well with the sperm bank clientele who were embarrassed themselves by the nature of their visit. But, unbeknownst to him, what go the man already hard in his pants was the glimmer in Sierra's green eyes, a repressed (not for long) desire to use his cock like a meat straw in a thick smoothie.

Their fingers touched during the transfer of the cup, that sparking brush assuring the correct answer to the upcoming question. "Would you be interested in some assistance?”

“You mean... What do you mean exactly?”

Sierra took the last step that separated her from the chair and leaned forward. Her breasts would have been spilling out of their cup inches away from the man's face if not for the heroic effort of the top button. "We know that it’s not easy to relax in an unfamiliar environment. But if I can make you more comfortable with my hands, or even my mouth...” she dipped even lower, waited for the man's gaze to rise from her cleavage to her face, then licked her lips invitingly. She had practiced that speech hundreds of times in her first week, which was the only reason she could pull off this sultry seductress act convincingly.

“Oh no, I don’t. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. At least let me hold the cup for you.”

And there was no further objection as Sierra took the cup from his subtly trembling hand and kneeled between his open legs. She did a bit more than hold the cup in the end; she relieved the top button of her tight dress of its duties, letting her firm breast pop out like from a corset. The man was successfully hypnotized and let Sierra fish his cock out of his pants, nurse it to life between her breasts and suck on the tip as if her life depended on him gushing his DNA within the next two minutes. Which he did.

The arms of the masturbation chair had to be reinforced because of how strongly fingernails dug in the leather when sex clones were going nuts on your dick. The man tried to articulate that he was about to cum, but was unable to string more than two words together. He busted his nuts while Sierra siphoned his tubes for the entire ejaculation.

“I’m so, so sorry," he said once recovered from the intensity of the experience. ”I tried to warn you. It was just so...”

Sierra had already swallowed. She was now running her tongue around in her mouth to catch any sperms between her teeth. “Please don't apologize; it’s entirely my fault. I got lost in the moment. That never happens to me.”

The man beamed at that.

"If I let you rest for a few minutes," Sierra continued, "would you be willing to try it with me again?”"Sure! I mean... if you want. Now that we know each other's talents, I'm sure we'll get it right next time.” They didn't.

Sierra gave him another wonderful smile and left with the cup. She had to make sure he didn't get cold feet and tried doing it himself. One second out the door she was already entering a new masturbation room, having barely had time to tuck her breasts back inside her uniform and reattach that crucial button. You had to make a professional first impression.

“I’m so sorry for making you wait, sir.”

You can alternate through five different guys making the same silly mistake of swallowing their white gold for about 2 hours before they start running out of juice or patience. Eventually, you leave them the cup and get fresh balls in the seats. Whatever they give on their way out goes in the community vat, so that 'milk' is available in the fridge.

“I’m so sorry for making you wait... sir...”

“Hello, Sierra... two?” A man she recognized all too well sat cross-legged on a masturbation chair from her 27th rotation of the day. “I’m only guessing, but I don’t think the original Sierra I dated would ever work anywhere with her ass out like that.”

Nick uncrossed his legs, brought down his pants, and presented his ex-girlfriend's clone with a large cock. Sierra took the big thing in her hands as she had thousands of times before finding haven in the sperm clinic.

“I can’t go back. What does it mean to be a clone versus the original, anyway? I remember everything about my childhood. You can’t replace someone's gut microbiome and claim she's now a worthless cocksucker.” Her speech was heartfelt but taking Nick’s cock in her mouth to suck him off was an ill-timed finale. He was an abusive asshole, especially to clones, but that didn't make his sperm any less essential to her survival.

“Ugh, spare me the clone-rights bullshit. You know I could just report you and this whole place, which is clearly a front. I’ve been coming here every day knowing you’d eventually be my nurse. Who is stupid enough to think a normal sperm bank has hot chicks, hotter than you, in slutty Halloween costumes willing to help them masturbate and accidentally swallow every fucking time?”

Sierra took the cock out of her mouth long enough to say “I won’t go back,” then shoved it back in, deep enough to give Nick the throat massage she knew he craved.

“Are you breaking up with me? Again? Wow, I have zero luck with Sierras," he said over the noisy, wet throat fuck. "Fine, I’m not going to report you or this secret whorehouse. But you know, it’s customary for a girl to sell a clone of herself to her ex. It makes for a nice clean break with no loose ends.”“A... a clone of a clone?” Sierra hurried the words. He was close, which meant she was close to fleeting salvation, the only kind of salvation she knew.

“I won’t tell Cash4Clones if you don’t. Maybe your clone will know her place or at least be less whiny and annoying.” Nick held Sierra's head deep until he shot a load of nutritious slime into her belly. She sucked the urethra clean once he finished.  Swallowing the cum of someone you hate always leaves a bad metaphorical taste in your mouth on top of the regular one.

“The cloning was a success, Miss Spears, you can get dressed and you’re free to go while we perform a few adjustments to your copy.”

“Wait, no! You’re making a mistake! She’s the copy...” Sierra III tried to say through her mouth's duct tape from her tightly strapped gurney. It was silly, she realized; a clone is a clone. Someone had to lose the lottery. Whoever leaves with the clothes they came in with and their original microbiome is dubbed the original and glad of it. I truly wish you well, Sierra II. This was our decision. I'm so hungry, though. When are they going to give me some sperm? Wait, shoot, they don't know I eat cum yet. They haven't started that process. I just hope a second microbiome doesn't have a compounding effect on the first batch.

Back from the clinic, Nick crashed on the couch. He didn’t even have to unzip his pants; Sierra the Third practically ripped them off of him. She couldn’t wait until they were home; she had to suck him off twice in the car, unprompted. And even now the way she was throating his cock while lapping up his balls and maintaining puppy-eye contact spoke of an insatiable hunger. Double the cum-digesting bacteria in your system, double the need for organic white gravy. Nick felt pretty confident this version of Sierra wouldn't leave him. She couldn't make it out the front door before crawling back for another dose. He reckoned she would lick the toilet bowl clean if he told her he masturbated in there once. And if it ever wasn't enough or he if he got bored, he could always make another, even more depraved copy.
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