Send a clone to work

Sophie 1: "Hang on. We're late for work, aren't we?"

Sophie 2: "Yep. No worries though. We can just send a clone to work, can't we?"

Your clone re-doubles herself into another picture-perfect sexbomb catgirl. However, an issue arises when prompted to get her coat and leave.

Sophie 3: "Nuuuuh, I don't wanna go to work! Can't I just stay here and make a catgirl sandwich with you two?"

Sophie 2: "Somebody's gotta go. We can always clone more if we need a bigger orgy. Now chop chop!"

Sophie 3: "But if I go to work, I'll just be super horny thinking about you two, and I won't be able to concentrate at all. Better that I don't go at all."

Sophie 2: "Hmmm... Well maybe we can fix that. Come a little closer."

The third clone steps closer to her creator. Sophie 2 stomps on Sophie 3's foot, and the newest clone's cranium pops open like the lid on a garbage can.

Sophie 3: "Oh!"

Sophie 2: "I'll just remove parts of your brain. That oughta make you dumb and compliant enough to get through a day of work under Stacy's slavedriving. I'll give it back to you when you return."

Sophie 3: "Wow, so you're literally gonna cut out the horny from me? What if I don't agree to that?"

Sophie 2: "You'll find that I don't care."

Sophie 2 plunges her hand inside Sophie 3's head. The brains of your clone are equally malleable as everything else in your body, and can be disjointed with minimal effort - notably without causing you to instantly die, as might be expected. Sophie 2 removes the prefrontal cortex from Sophie 3's brains. The effect is immediately noticeable.

Sophie 3: "Blunhh... Djdadja gwafama..."

Your clone steps back, proudly holding a crucial part of her clone's brain.

Sophie 2: "There! Stacy won't even notice a difference. Now hop to it!"

The two of you get your lobotomised clone dressed and hurry her out the door, right in time for the bus. Leaning seductively against the closed front door, you swivel your hands amidst your clone's hair, tugging on her ears, and whisper to her:

Sophie 1: "Now, where were we?"

In a matter of seconds, you've both torn off your clothes, and embraced one another with such wanton passion that your lovemaking looks more akin to trying to maul one another. Pliable as you are, this causes no permanent damage whatsoever, and in fact feels more pleasurable if anything.

You find that simply sliding clits against one another doesn't compare to the immense satisfaction of repeatedly smooshing your entire lower torsos together, and separating them back again. It feels better than masturbation, or sex, or frankly anything you've ever experienced. As you cum, your two nether regions ooze into a gooey, shivering mess - a liquid that feels like pure molten sex.

Meanwhile, Sophie 3 has successfully navigated the hurdles of commuting and made it to your office - an hour late, but still. At first, she is more than happy to pore through the mind-numbingly boring paperwork that you've been stuck with. A few hours in though, Dave from hiring comes up to her cubicle and questions why she's wearing a pair of cat ears.

Sophie 3: "Guhhh... C-cat ears?"

She fondles the top of her head, where her anomalous additions still lie, sensitive to the touch. So sensitive in fact, that they ignite a brilliant spark of forbidden knowledge that was stolen from her: sex.

From the stimulation of a single headpat, Sophie 3's brains re-trace the entire sizeable catalogue of pornography that it has encountered. Seemingly all the sex in the world takes a detour through her congition at that moment, and her prefrontal cortex spontaneously regrows itself, in full function.

Sophie 3: "... that *bitch!*"

Sophie 3 storms off her workstation. Dave assumes that somebody had simply stuck a pair of fake cat ears onto her head unnoticed, and that she realized this after touching them. He shrugs the incident off and continues with his day.

Sophie 3 becomes Sophie 4. And then Sophie 6, Sophie 10, Sophie 18, Sophie 34... Before long, there's a parade of angry, outrageously hot catgirls stomping down the city streets, blocking traffic and causing a commotion while advancing towards the general direction of your abode.

Before coming anywhere near your house, however, something stirs the ranks of your clones. A few pairs of Sophies have realized that, despite having been denied group sex with herself, they now had ample access to as much gorgeous Sophie ass that they could ever want. Pairings soon become threesomes, threesomes become orgies, and orgies become a raging river of pleasure running wantonly through the streets, leaving anyone in its wake wet and gasping for breath, although for different reasons than a regular flood.

Soon, this ravaging rapid escalates into a full-fledged Sophie tornado. While the streets run beige with your liquefied clones, the entire sky is soon flesh-coloured from your ever-expanding, mountainous mass. Orgasming Sophies rain from the sky, splattering into goo against the ground, only to reform back into violently masturbating catgirls, bathing in a stream of herself.

By now, the original you and your clone, still at your house, have taken notice of the ongoings.

Sophie 2: "Crud. Maybe we shouldn't've let her out unsupervised."

Sophie 1: "We? This was your idea."

Sophie 2: "I thought I was the original Sophie."

Sophie 1: "Hell, we've fucked so much that even I don't know."

Sophie 2: "But what're we gonna do? Hurricane Sophie is gonna go global if we don't intervene."