A faded yellow taxi came to a halt in front of the Charles/Khloe household. The frame rattled as a woman with long red locks stepped out, rummaging through her purse for something she could offer as a tip. A five-dollar bill had seen better days, but the heavy-set man in the driver's seat didn’t complain once it landed in his hand. 

The car drove away leaving Saoirse standing on the sidewalk with her oversized luggage. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly mowed grass and blooming flowers that filled the air. The quiet neighborhood was a contrast to the bustling city she had left behind, but she felt a sense of peace settle in her chest. This was exactly what she needed after the long and arduous trip that was meant to be a vacation.

Khloe jumped to her feet when she heard the electronic bell ring, opening the door with unmatched enthusiasm. “Saoirse!” She launched herself into her sister’s arms, feeling the warmth of her sibling she missed for five years.

“Kay!” Saoirse was ushered inside, absorbing the modest interior of the new house she had seen posted on social media. The air was fresh and scented with a rustic fragrance. A welcome change from the old apartment Khloe holed herself up in before the marriage. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t make the wedding.”

“Don’t apologize. I know how much you were loving Cabo.” She said with a wave. “You know, smooching up with the one Puerto-Rican guy.”

Saoirse groaned. “Ugh. He wasn’t all he was cracked up to be.” The two sat down beside each other on the plush sofa, their knees pointing towards each other. “Once he found out I was detachable, he ran for the hills. What’s a Chupacabra?”

“Sheesh.” It wasn’t the first, or even twentieth time someone in their life ran away screaming after seeing their headless body or disembodied arm flexing independently. As much as it hurt, their optimism never wavered. There were more people that accepted them than not. Saoirse however, didn’t have as much luck finding romantic interests that either shared the same gift or found it arousing. She was said to be a magnet to the more unsavory type of men. “At least you got some, right?”

Her sister’s eyes blankly stared. 

“You…he…?”

“That’s when shit hit the fan. We were about to graduate from second base when my torso separated trying to take my top off. Watching my legs wobble and move on their own, I guess, was too much to handle.”

Khloe laughed at the mental image. “If that were Charles, he’d take the legs and leave me behind.”

“Oh! That’s right. How is the new fam?”

“It’s…fantastic. I've really…grown on Ethan.” She bit her lip as if to keep them from saying more.

“He seems like such a nice young man. Karly likes him too?”

Khloe chuckled. “Uhh…yeah. More than I thought they would. Much more.”

An eyebrow arched to the top of Saoirse’s forehead. “Kay. What are you getting at?”

Her cover was blown. Khloe was never a good liar. “Well, they get along very well, doing a lot of things together like a typical brother-sister relationship.”

“...But?”

She gulped silently. “But…the relationship isn’t just…familial.”

“Oh my god.” Saoirse cupped her mouth, “They’re having sex?”

“Putting it so bluntly, yes.”

Saoirse was visibly taken back. It wasn’t disgust by any means. She was surprised, impressed even. “So…have you…?”

Another nervous laugh as Khloe waved the notion away. It wasn’t enough to fool her sister, and the same eyebrow practically rose to the ceiling. 

“You’ve fucked your own son? You kinky bitch.”

“Look, he looks so much like his father, just more youthful and energetic. You try resisting him.”

Saoirse crossed her arms, taking the statement as a challenge. “We’ll see when he gets home.”

The evening sun had set, and Ethan came home to the pink light that bathed the backdoor. He slipped in quietly. Avoiding Karly was the main objective until he reached the stairs. There was every intention to go his bedroom and hop on his game system, leaving the world around him to melt away, but once Ethan stepped on the first tread, he was met with the sly expression of his Step-Aunt. “Oh, hey Saoirse. What’s, uhhh, going on?”

“I thought your mother and I could use some catching up. And maybe…learn a little more about you.” Saoirse's eyes narrowed. He was indeed a man now, tall and handsome, with a strong jaw and piercing eyes that bore a striking resemblance to his father.

Ethan looked up to the stairs behind her that led to his sanctuary, longing for his ‘R&R’. He thought maybe sparing a few minutes wouldn’t kill him. Saoirse traveled to the ‘L’ shaped sofa and patted the seat beside her. He obliged without protest, but something was off, unable to shake the feeling that he was about to be drawn into a conversation he wanted no part of.

“So your mother told me some things that piqued my interest. You and Karly have been quite the match.”

Ethan's heart skipped a beat as he glanced up to meet his Aunt's gaze. The living room was bathed in the last bit of the sunset’s light, but the words cast a greater shadow over the space. He knew his Aunt wasn't one for subtlety, especially when it came to her family’s personal life, but this was something he wasn't prepared to have with her. “What did Khloe tell you?”

“A few things. Very interesting things.” Saoirse said as Ethan watched her face for any signs of disapproval, but all he saw was curiosity with a hint of amusement. “Let’s cut to the chase. Having sex with your sister wasn’t on my extended-family bingo card.”

“Mom!”

Khloe shrugged.

“Your mother also told me about her little present to you. I’m glad you’re into our kinky repertoire. A welcome surprise.”

Ethan massaged his forehead as he tried to find the words to ease his own tension. The taboo relationship he shared with both Karly and Khloe was already scrutinized enough, if not mostly by his own internal dialogue, but by his father Charles who had yet to completely accept his son’s actions. It was never communicated through words, but the emotion etched on his face when his wife made any advance in front of him, was indicative enough.

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure.” Saoirse bent forward, pinched a martini glass, and brought the rim to her lips. “I’m not worried about how you present yourself to my sister. I take you as the gentlemanly type. In fact, if anyone in this room is so persuasive as to manipulate a poor soul into kinky sex, that would be Khloe.”

Her sister rolled her eyes to the back of her head. “Please.”

“All I wanted was to know more about the man she talks so highly of. It’s been great to meet you, and maybe…you can get to know me a little more.”

The wink that Ethan witnessed was full of subliminal messages. Getting to know Saoirse more? He assumed the worst, or best if he considered the heavy sexual energy in her voice. “Yeah, I think I'd like that.” 

Khloe silently gestured with her head as a sign that Ethan was free to retreat back to his room, and he did so with a reciprocating nod. Once the young man shut the door behind him, Saoirse chuckled.

“What are you planning? Khloe asked.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Saoirse stepped into the building that fooled random passersby’s into thinking it was a simple laundromat. A chill ran down her spine as she pulled on the handle of one of the machines, and not from the cool breeze that escaped once the hidden door appeared, but from the anticipation of what was to come. Across the hall revealed the warm glow of the lounge's interior. She stepped into the chaos of last-minute preparations for the evening show. Stagehands scurried about, setting up props and checking the sound system, while the scent of furniture polish and dust filled the air. Saoirse navigated through the maze of devices and contraptions. The back of the venue had seen better days, but it was her friend’s special way of organizing. Her heart raced as she approached an isolated office, a place that was both comforting and eerie at the same time.

The office door was slightly ajar, allowing a sliver of light to spill into the shadowy corridor. She knocked firmly, her knuckles echoing through the aged wood. 

A man, bald as a cue ball, wearing lime-green Hawaiian shirt with a pattern of hot dogs and flamingos, appeared behind the door. “Again, I would not like to hear the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

“Howard, it’s me.”

The veteran magician squinted, then came to the realization his glasses were, in fact, not on his face like usual. He whipped his head from side to side. “Oh!” A pair of thick-rimmed round glasses were lifted from the nearby table full of cut-up blouses. “Oh, Saoirse! Come in, come in.”

Entering the small dressing room was always a hazard. Broken guillotines, saws, and spare body parts not even he knew where they came from were scattered around the ornate vanity and sofa with a pattern only seen in the 80’s. Saoirse cautiously sat down. 

“So, what brings you to my domain?” Howard said as he fell into his rolling chair, propping his leg up on his other.

“Well…”

Howard’s tone shifted. “You’re going to ask for something stupid, aren’t you?”

“Give me a chance, sheesh.” Saoirse scoffed.

He rubbed his temples as he always did when he knew there was something in his future he’d come to regret. “May I ask? A vertical cut so you can cuddle with yourself?”

“Nope.”

“Your top half removed so you can walk around as a head with legs?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then it must be wanting to have your body stretched like taffy to reach your own…hmm, well, there are easier ways to do that, dear.”

“I need my body cloned.”

Silence filled the small space, save for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above them. Howard pursed his lips then popped them open. 

“Natalie sent you, didn’t she?”

“Who’s Natalie?”

“If I had a dollar for every time someone came to me asking to clone themselves, I’d have enough money to move to Bora bora and get me a hot boyfriend. But, you’re lucky I like you.” He jumped to his feet and scanned the room for his cabinet. Tucked away in the corner, Howard kicked clutter out of its way and wheeled it to the center. It was reminiscent of a telephone booth from an old sci-fi movie, painted a garish blue with a sign at the top that read, "The Miraculous Cloner." He explained the mechanism with a mix of enthusiasm and wariness, as if he were showing off his favorite child that made the honor roll. 

Howard swung the weathered wood door open, and gestured at the shadowed interior. "You step in, I flip some imaginary switches, and voilà---an identical body pops out. But remember," he added with a wag of his finger, "this isn't like making a copy at the office. There can be some...slight imperfections."

"What kind of imperfections?" Saoirse asked, slightly less sure of her decision.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Sometimes they come out with an extra limb, or they're convinced they're Julius Caesar. Then you have to stab them like they were." He waved his hand dismissively. "But don't worry, I've got it mostly figured out. Mostly.”

She peered inside, speculating the potential danger within. “Just…stand inside?”

“No, hang upside down and flap your wings like a bat. Yes, stand!”

Saoirse obeyed, standing straight within the stale air of the contraption. Howard shut the door and placed his hand on its center. There were no words, just a faint buzzing in her ear. She sensed being spun around, then stopping abruptly. She felt a strange sensation, as if she were getting stretched and pulled apart, then compressed again into her original form. The door swung open again, and Saoirse stepped out of the other side, dizzy from the process. She fell onto the sofa as she tried to regain her sense of reality. 

“Orange slices?” Howard asked.

“What?”

“Orange slices. They help with the disorientation.”

The offer was considered, but she hated oranges, and that was enough to refuse. Howard hummed then turned the cabinet around once more. With a flourish, the other door swung open to reveal an exact, down to the pore, nude doppelgänger that stood where she had moments before. 

“Oh…wow.” She said under her breath. Her legs slowly regained the strength to stand again, and she reached out to trace the collarbones and the space between her breasts. It was a surreal perspective, one that she never thought she wanted to experience until that moment. “This is so weird.”

“She’s a dormant copy. Irons out all the kinks. Now that will be a thousand dollars. I take most credit cards, no checks.”

Saoirse scoffed. “You wish.”

There was a blank stare from Howard as his attempt failed once more.

“But I don’t need…all of this.”

“Whoever this little recipient is won’t appreciate a nice, fresh pair of feet? Or a head?”

“I never said anything about giving it to anyone.”

Howard scoffed. “Honey, my IQ is not a seventy-eight. Those sites are pure baloney.”

“Sure, Howey. Whatever you have to tell yourself..”

Ethan stared at the flickering screen of his phone, the light casting a blue glow on his face. It was well past ten, and the quiet of the neighborhood was occasionally pierced by the distant ambulance siren or the rustling of leaves. His thumb hovered over the 'Send' button, his heart racing as he reread the text message:

"Meet me in the living room. I’d like to show you something."

It was from Saoirse, his aunt, who had taken residence at his home for the past couple days.

With a deep breath, Ethan set the phone down and pushed open the front door. Curiosity had a firm grip on him now as he scanned the entryway for any sign of Saoirse. The creaks of the old floorboards echoed through the empty house, and he couldn't help but feel like he was about to walk in on something he shouldn't despite the invitation. 

Then upon entering the open space of the living room, the sight before him was unlike anything he had ever seen. A torso, without arms or legs, featuring the unmistakable blemishes of his aunt and wearing a matching set of undergarments. His stomach churned as he approached it, his hand reaching out to touch the soft, warm skin.

"Ethan," a sultry voice called from the shadows, "you're here earlier than I anticipated." Saoirse stepped into the light, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She was dressed in a silk robe that clung to her body like a second skin. In her arms, she cradled another torso, uncannily similar to her sister Khloe's.

He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "What's going on?" he croaked.

"Think of it as a trial." she purred, setting the truncated torso down gently on the other end of the L-shaped sofa. "A way for us to know each other better." Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of rejection, but Ethan found himself unable to break away. 

He hesitantly caressed the belly of the torso. Her soft milky skin was similar to his mother’s, but the aged skin texture brought it to life in a way Khloe’s didn’t. Like it was more real somehow. Ethan’s eyes lingered on the space between her breasts.

“You like them?” Saoirse's hand slid up the torso, her fingernails tracing the curves of the body. It moved up to cup the pair of natural E’s. The bra shifted slightly, no longer weighed down. “They’re really fun to play with. You want to try?” 

The bulge in his pants rose. He nodded, trying to keep the saliva from dripping out of his mouth. Saoirse’s cloned torso was balanced in her lap as she worked on unhooking the bra clasps. Once the undergarment was removed, the breasts dropped with a bounce, and the very first time seeing them in all their glory was enough to make Ethan lightheaded as the blood in his body rerouted. 

“They’re really tasty too.” With a squeeze, his Aunt pulled a breast up, bringing the stiffened nipple to her mouth. Her lips closed around the areola. 

Ethan felt his cock twitch, his body responding to the display of self-worship.

The nipple was suspended by her teeth until it slipped out, letting the breast fall back down and slap against her palm. “If you’re a good nephew, you’ll take off your pants.”

Zero hesitation was seen in Ethan’s eyes as he shot up and slipped everything off of himself. Saoirse watched, her eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. He sat back down. Saoirse then cupped his chin. 

"Now sit still and let me show you what a real woman feels like." The panties were ripped off of the disembodied torso, lifted from the seat, and carried over to the young man with a heart that nearly beat out of his chest. It was lowered onto Ethan after an excruciating pause. His stiff member slid effortlessly into it. 

There was no comparison at that moment. Just the pure intoxicating sensation of Saoirse’s pussy. The minutes that passed were a blur of intense sexual energy. His aunt’s cloned torso twitched around him as if it were alive. Ethan felt like he was in a dream, one that he never wanted to wake from. The lines between reality and fantasy blurred until he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. 

Saoirse slid the torso off of her nephew, and was propped against the arm of the sofa again. Her eyes locked onto Ethan’s throbbing member. She took it in her hand and examined it, measuring the girth with her fingers, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Such a perfect cock for such a young man." she murmured, and before Ethan could react, she yanked it off his body.

Sitting, stunned, Ethan could only watch as his Aunt carried his sex to her clone. It was unceremoniously shoved back into the wet cavity. There was a mischievous grin—one of such magnitude Ethan had only seen on Karly’s face. His mother's torso was brought to their side, and positioned so that it faced the opposite direction of her own. With surprising strength, she pushed the base of his detached penis into the other torso's pussy. 

The two clones were now connected, his penis a bridge between them.

The room was filled with the wet, squelching sounds of his detached penis sliding in and out of the two bodies, and Ethan could feel every sensation. He watched in amazement as Saoirse began to manipulate the torsos to move in a rhythmic motion, his detached dick driving into both pussies with a precision that only she could achieve.

"Isn't this what you’ve always wanted?" she asked, her eyes glinting.

Ethan nodded, unable to find the words to express what he was feeling. He never actually had conceived of such a notion before now. The sight of his mother's and aunt's bodies moving together like that, connected by his own flesh, was incredibly arousing. Saoirse bent forward once more. With a hand on each neck stump, she pushed the two torso’s closer, completely enveloping the flesh dildo as the two pussies slapped against each other. Ethan shuddered. His eyes crossed. Both hands found their way to his crotch as he lost control, spilling himself inside of his Aunt’s clone.

When his vision returned, Saoirse was already cleaning up, slipping the panties back onto his mother’s clone. It was hoisted off the couch and taken back to his room. She walked back, holding the limp member out to her nephew. 

“Bet that beat everything you’ve ever done before, hmm?”

Ethan nodded again. “Yeah. Something like that.” He scooped up his detached dick and planted it back onto his groin. He lay there, his body slick with sweat and his mind reeling from the experience. The room seemed to spin around him. Looking over, he noticed that Saoirse had unfurled a black duffel bag and opened it as wide as it was manufactured to. “You’re not going to give it to me?” Ethan wondered where the assumption manifested from.

Saoirse grabbed her cloned torso. “I didn’t plan on it. I’m not like your mother. You want a piece of me, you’ll have to work for it.” She then lowered the body into the bag, zipping it up hastily. With a grunt, Saoirse swung it over her shoulder like she was ready for the gym. “Bye-bye Ethan. Tell your mother she can have you all to herself until next time.”

And with that, she walked out of the living room without looking back. Ethan, physically drained as if he just performed hard labor, remained sitting. He questioned to himself why he, amongst any other man available, was the subject of his extended family’s sexual fantasies. Was he really that easy to subdue? It couldn’t be his looks. Ethan thought of himself as a six, or seven on good days. With no answers, he simply shrugged and stood up. He was due for a shower. 

That was, if no one wanted more of his dick for the rest of the night. The phone in his discarded pants buzzed. Ethan jumped. A new message from Saoirse. 

"Goodnight, my dear. Sweet dreams."

He stared at it for a long moment, his heart racing. This wasn't over. It was just the beginning of something he didn't fully understand. But as he remained sitting there under the dim light of a tall lamp, his hand still wrapped around his cock, he knew that he didn't want it to end. He wanted more. Much, much more.