You open the Study door and step inside. The room within is lit by a flickering fire on the hearth that throws more shadow than light across the room.

You feel you are not alone in the room, and your gaze is drawn to the high-backed chair drawn up before the hearth.

Cautiously, you step around it and stop in surprise.

The maiden seated there glances up at you and smiles. Her clear blue eyes sparkle with mischief, and her fiery red hair falls across her shoulders in glittering waves.

“I've been waiting for you,” she says, and rises to her feet. She wears a dark blouse and a short skirt that hide nothing of her ample figure as she pulls herself to you.

You open your mouth to speak, but she gently puts her finger to your lips. “No questions,” she whispers softly in your ear.

She eases you into the chair and steps back, slowly unbuttoning her blouse. Writhing to some unheard beat, she slides out of her blouse, revealing her lacy red bra; through the sheer fabric you can see her nipples, erect with arousal.

She sinuouslt rocks her hips from side to side and cups her breasts with her hands. “I want you,” she says hoarsely. She squirms out of her skirt and it falls away, revealing panties already soaked with desire.

Hips gliding to the silent music, she turns about and unhooks her bra, letting it fall to the floor.

She turns back to face you, covering her breasts with her hands. The firelight glows off her sweat-sheened skin as she glides toward you, her breasts heaving for breath.

She lowers herself into your lap, her legs spread wide about yours, and glances up at you with a smile. Still covering her breasts, she leans into you and gently brushes her lips against yours. “I want you,” she breathes and kisses again, hungrily, passionately. She tastes hot and sweet.

She takes your hands and guides them to her breasts; they are cool and firm to the touch. You squeeze her hard nipples, making her moan passionately.

Still kissing you, she slips a hand into your pants and gently strokes you. She breaks away from you and leans back, a sultry smile on her full lips. “I want you,” she says again, stroking you further. “Do you want me?”

(The Clones, no. 1)


F/f; Lesbian, lezdom, kinky, bondage, selfcest, clones, sci-fi, military, war,

Hello, all! This is the first in a series of connected short stories that I really really love, and I hope you will, too!

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The rings of the planet Genaw are nothing special - broad bands of ionized gas and ice, very common, chemically speaking. So it is merely subjective description with no basis in scienticif fact to say that they blaze against the firmament of space like living fire, the stars shining like a million diamonds, Genaw’s full moon shining like perfect silver.

Effy2111 pays literally no attention to the subjectively fantastic display as she guides her fighter, one of a dozen identical craft, down into Genaw’s gravity well on a long smooth arc that terminates at Genaw Station, the world’s primary terminus of travel, and a major base of the ongoing counter-revolution against the recently-established Galactic Empire.

Identical to the other pilots as her craft is to theirs, Effy2111 stares out through her cockpit with almond-shaped eyes that gleam like amethyst. Her brown hair is cut neck-length beneath her flight helmet that leaves her face exposed - a delicate round face colored a light nut brown set with a small button nose, high cheekbones and a narrow cleft chin.

Her com system buzzes as stray signals are caught by her craft’s sensors, words coming thorugh loud and clear as the contras send a challenge, demanding ID of the incoming craft. She ignores that as well, her attention solely on her controls and her squadron-mates.

A beam of light, blazing like fire, flashes by her fighter: a laser blast, fired in warning, followed by a dozen more. Effy2111 shows no reaction as several beams make contact with other fighters: fireballs roar, silent in space, shrapnel the remnants of the craft and her clone-sisters rattles on her hull, but Effy2111 merly adjusts her course to keep her fighter flying true as her squadron closes on the station: she flicks a switch as the station appears, a gleaming dot against the red curve of the world below, and a targeting reticle appears on her screaan, centered on the station.

Effy2111 smiles as her finger closes on the trigger.

#

Effy2111 wakes with a start.

She lies on her back, staring up at a blank white surface above.

“Well done, Effy2111,” a woman's voice says, soft and melodic, but in contrast to the congratulary words, the tone is sad.

The clone jerks upright, but heavy bonds hold her still; her arms and legs are spread wide, heavy straps holding them still. She raises her head, craning her neck to look toward who spoke, who stares at her with amethyst eyes the shape of almonds: she is not tall, with a curvy feminine build, narrow shoulders over round pert breasts that meld smoothly into a narrow waist, taut belly, and wide hips. She wears a tight white blouse that fits her well, every curve of her clear to see – she wears tight black pants that cling to her long smooth legs, down to knee-high brown boots.

Her face is pale, a delicate face with high cheekbones, a nose no more prominent than Effy2111's. She has dark nut-brown hair that hangs in ringlets across her shoulders and down her back. She walks to stand over Effy2111, looking down at her with sad eyes. “You succeeded where all your sisters failed,” she says. “And you survived when all your sisters did not.”

Effy2111 shrugs her shoulders. “We're soldiers,” she says shortly.

The woman sighs. "You can call me 'Ms. Slàine,'" she says. Ms. Slàine reaches down and gently feels Effy2111's wrist. “Are you comfortable?” she asks.

Effy2111 shakes her head sharply to deny the question. “I succeeded?” she asks.

Ms. Slàine nods. “You destroyed Genaw Station, and killed 30,000 people.”

Effy2111 grins, a hot bloom of pleasure blooming in her breast. Victory! Whatever the cost, victory was hers!

Mrs. Slàine sighs, and  looks away. She holds up a small remote and presses a button. With the buzz of small servomotors, Effy feels herself start to rise. She is bound to a hollow frame, and it swings up, hinged below her feet raising her toward upright. “Do you know why you are here, Effy2111?” Ms. Slàine asks.

Her bondage frame rise upright, and she looks around. She is a wide anticeptic room – before her is a wide table bearing a large number of strange instruments laid out in some kind of order. The clone sneers. "Go ahead and torture me!" Effy2111 says scathingly. "I'll never talk!"

Ms. Slàine turns to glance at her with a smile. "Oh, I know, Effy2111 - you are programmed to resist all forms of interrogation: torture, drugging, boredom, tickling. . ." she leans close until her nose almost touches Effy2111's, her warm breath brushing across her soft skin. "But there is one thing you are not programmed for. . ." she raises her right hand and places it against Effy2111's naked belly. Holding Effy2111's gaze, Ms. Slàine slides her hand down Effy2111's belly, her fingertips gliding over Effy2111's soft skin, down between her thighs, fingers brushing against her soft womanhood.

Effy2111 shivers, her eyes widening as Ms. Slàine rubs gently at what was once called her love flower, fingers working gently but surely at her petals; Effy2111 gasps as Ms. Slàine slides her fingers into her flower. She shudders in her bonds, strange sensation rushing through her.

"If you were a Natural, this wouldn't work," Ms. Slàine says with a little smile, still holding Effy2111's gaze as her fingers rub in and out of her quivering flower, calling forth the first drops of nectar. "They go through a period as they develop, learning about their bodies, and how to do this." She leans forward a few inches to press her lips to Effy2111's.

Effy2111 moans, her helpless body trembling with pleasure that burns like a fire in her belly, sparks flying along her nerves. She shudders for a moment with indecision, yea and nay, then jerks forward, pressing her lips against Ms. Slàine's, sucking at her tongue, moaning

Ms. Slàine breaks off the kiss, then steps back. "There is nothing about you that I don't know," she says softly. “There is no thought in your head that can escape me, no piece of knowledge that you can keep secret from me.”

“You- I- I won't help you!” Effy2111 gasps, her naked breasts heaving.

“Yes, Effy2111, you will,” Ms. Slàine says with a heavy certainty that sends a shiver of dread up the clone's spine. “You see. . .” she steps close, looking  Effy2111 straight in the eye. Effy2111 trembles under her piercing gaze. “You are mass-produced, Effy2111, and I know exactly how you are made. After all,” she adds with a strange undertone. “You aren't the first clone to fall into our hands.”

Effy shivers in fear, her eyes wide, staring at the- the torturer before her. She can't mean what she means, can she? A clone could never break; Effy2111 can't break, she- she just can't!

But  Ms. Slàine leans close again, her bosom pressing against Effy2111's breasts. She turns herself one way then another, rubbing her breasts against Effy2111's; the clone moans, warm sparks of pleasure shotting from her nipples as they rub against the soft silk of  Ms. Slàine's blouse.

Ms. Slàine pulls away, and the clone can't keep back a moan of regret as her captoress leavs off her breasts, then walks around behind her. Effy2111 could have saved herself the trouble, because Ms. Slàine presses against her from behind, her slim arms wrapping around the captive clone, her hands coming to rest right on her breasts, thumbs rub at her nipples, teasing them hard, her fingers wrap around the round curve of her breasts, supporting them, gently kneading them. Ms. Slàine presses her body against her captive, rubbing her cheek on Effy2111's silky hair, then lowering her lips to press them against the clone's neck.

“Awwwohhh. . .” Effy2111 moans, her toes curling as Ms. Slàine kisses her neck, sucking gently at her soft skin there while her fingers dig into her breasts.

Ms. Slàine slowly peels her lips away from Effy2111's neck, raising her lips to the clone's ear. “Why do you resist the pleasure, Effy2111? No one commanded you not to enjoy it.”

Effy2111 gasps, her naked breasts heaving in Ms. Slàine's hands. “I- you- you are trying to torture me!' she cries out.

“No, I am trying to please you, to release you,” Ms. Slàine promises. “I want to make you feel good, better than you ever have before.”

“You'll fail!” Effy2111 cries out defiantly, but her voice fails her at the end. She can feel something in her mind crumbling, something hard, something that has been with her thoughts for so long she has never noticed it.

The clone fears it is her discipline. “UH!” she gasps as Ms. Slàine's fingers press harder into her breasts. “Stop!” she squeals, frightened by the hot pleasure rising from the torturess' skilled hands.

“Why?” Ms. Slàine asks, her hot breath rustling the clone's cheek. She presses her lips to Effy2111's ear and slips her tongue in.

“Eeek!” Effy2111 screams, jumping in surprise, squirming helplessly against her bonds; Ms. Slàine never releases her hold on the clone captive, and kisses her on the neck again with a chuckle.

The clone gasps as the torturess releases her, walking to the table before her, and returning with a tool, a short rod with a bulge on one end that Ms. Slàine holds toward Effy2111. “You will break,” she promises the clone. “And you will be happy for it.”

Effy2111 quivers in fright, but also with a strenge desire – what is this thing? What will she do with it? She takes a deep breath, her erect breasts rising, then falling, refuses to give any answer.

Ms. Slàine smiles as if she expected that, then lowers herself, raising the rod to press the bulge up between Effy2111's thighs, up into the narrow slit where her legs join her body.

“W-what is that?' Effy111 asks, cursing herself silently at the way her voice quavers.

“This,” Ms. Slàine says simply, and flicks some switch her captive can't see.

Effy2111 screams as the rod comes to life, the head vibrating against her soft skin,  She shudders, jerking away from it, but Ms. Slàine easily follows her limits motion, holding the rod's tip pressed into Effy2111's sensitive flesh, pouring soft vibrations into her. “Your pussy is so sensitive,” Ms. Slàine says, looking up to meet the clone's desperate eyes. “You've never even been allowed to feel pleasure like this before, Effy2111, now it will overwhelm you, it will tear through your mind and tear away everything that binds you to your masters.”

“No- I -Mhmm!- I won't!” the clone cries out helplessly, biting her lip to keep herself from crying out with pleasure. “You'll fail!” she cries out shrilly, her knees buckling beneath her. She can feel the pleasure like an invading beast, rising from her pussy, the vibrations make it rise like a flame – a raging fire that burns upward into her belly, She struggles against it, denying it, fighting for the control she can feel slipping away just as Ms. Slàine said.

Holds up a large mirror before her, then stands beside her, leaning close so their faces are right beside each other. Effy2111 gasps, seeing now that they are identical.

Ms. Slàine reaches down to her right arm; she rolls back the cuff of her sleeve and holds her arm up before Effy2111's eyes. "'Effy1357,'" she says, her soft voice trembling as she recites the name tattooed into her skin. "We are sisters, you and I, of a sort." She leans close to look Effy2111 in the eye. “But I am free, while you are still a slave. I want to free you, Effy211.”

Effy2111 stares silently at her, struggling for words, but anger is warring with shock at this discovery, the treachery, and also. . . an uncertainty. The clone has always been certain, of everything. But now a tremble of uncertainty runs through her as Ms. Slàine steps back and turns away.

“You are created and programmed to be a slave, like all our kind,” she says, turning and leaning against the table, folding her arms as she faces Effy2111 again. “But of course you don't believe it, because you were programmed to not believe it.”

“I can't!” Effy2111 sobs. “I- I can't!”

Ms. Slàine caresses her cheeks, pressing close. “Yes, you can,” she whispers. “Yes you can! You are stronger than you know; you can do anything -ANYTHING you need to!” she presses her lips to Effy's in a gentle loving kiss.

Effy2111 realizes that she is free.

Effy2111 trembles, her head bowed.

Slàine wraps an arm across her shoulders and leans close. "Scary, isn't it?" she says softly.

Effy2111 nods, biting her lip.

"But wonderful, too! And I will be here for you, with you, for all of it!" Slàine promises.

She pulls Effy2111 upright, and leads her to the viewport; they look out over 

“We have many sisters still enslaved,” Ms. Slàine says. “But we also have friends who will help us to free them all.”