My Wife’s Clone

Human Reproductive Cloning: A Brief History

Yes, you could say it all started with Dolly. Dolly was the first mammalian clone produced from an adult somatic cell in the western world, but not the last. Reproductive cloning technology advanced throughout the 21st century, with a few rapid bursts of progress that shocked governmental authorities and stunned the world. The research was condemned, heavily regulated, and even banned in many countries. It was an affront to human dignity, the detractors said. The research continued nonetheless, sometimes through clandestine means. There was a private island conducting bizarre experiments uncovered in 2089 — the Moreau scandal, as the papers called it. A rogue billionaire funded experiments that were universally condemned by the international community; his island was confiscated and he was sentenced to a decade of house arrest. There were rumors of off-the-books military experiments that continued on that island, but that subject has always been confined to forums and message boards in dark corners of the internet. In parts of Asia, where regulations were less strict, progress marched on steadily.

Then, as is often the case with the history of science, researchers working on a project completely unrelated to cloning made a breakthrough that changed the world. The pair of microbiologists, interested in senescence, were studying age-related epigenetic damage when they accidentally discovered a way to reset an adult cell nucleus almost perfectly after transfer into an enucleated egg. Their work triggered a spate of articles on epigenetic reprogramming, mitochondrial compatibility, chromosomal stability, and embryo viability. This paved the way for human research in the next generation. As the old guard died off, and young researchers blinded by curiosity and Promethean fervor took the reigns, decades of research finally came to fruition.

The first human clone was born in December 2099, one month before the turn of the century. In all likelihood, it wasn’t the first attempt at human cloning or even the first success. But it was the first that was officially recognized.

As the years passed, cloning technology became less and less prohibitively expensive and complicated. Cloning technology in the 22nd century is stringently regulated to prevent reckless applications, but it’s become so cheap that black market cloning technology is as common as LSD. Many people figure out how to do it themselves, using their wives and girlfriends as surrogates for the clone. Of course, the biotechnology is not magic; fully-formed clones cannot be generated all at once. Clones have to go through the same process of biological and psychological development as everyone else.

So those aspiring to create clones need three things: Money, a willing surrogate to carry the embryo to term, and time. And, I suppose, the intelligence and cunning to avoid detection.

Of course, the same two themes emerged in nearly all of the underground cloning cases — sex and work. Morons in their garage tried to clone themselves to send their doppelgänger to work for them and retire early. They seemed to always get caught, but who knows? If there were successes, we would never find out. Conspiracies about presidential clones abounded, and not without any plausibility. Then, of course, there were the lurid cloning sex scandals. Some people obsessively tried to get DNA samples from their favorite celebrity, intent on creating a sex **** in their image. Many men attempted to create harems of cloned girls. Like the labor clones, it always seemed to end with a lengthy prison sentence. But who could be certain that there weren’t clones locked in someone’s basement or on a rural compound, unaware of the fact that they were copied from someone else’s DNA?

The sexual element caused authorities to crack down especially hard on anyone conducting unsanctioned cloning research, even if it didn’t involve a salacious sex scandal. Plenty of nerds with pure hearts and a fascination with biotechnology went to prison, but an example had to be made, I suppose. Meanwhile, billionaires cloned with impunity, doing God knows what in their mansion-compounds and yachts floating in international waters.

Gerard, a retired gambler at 36, had money and time. He also had a wife who he loved dearly. And he was sharp. He’d studied the Moreau Scandal with intense interest and read insatiably on every advancement in cloning since he was a boy. His wife, Sophia, was the love of his life. Corny, but true. He adored her. He worshiped the ground she walked on. Together since their teenage years, they’d fallen in love and stayed that way for more than 15 years.

That’s not to say Gerard didn’t have his vices. He loved beautiful women, and casinos and private poker games always provided a steady supply. He wasn’t perfect, and he fell into temptation on more than one occasion. He’d confessed to Sophia the first time it happened, but it was too painful. Honesty wasn’t always the best policy, Gerard believed. Besides, it’s not as if he knew what she was up to on his long trips from home. He knew she’d had at least one affair. Illicit escapades aside, they truly did love each other.

In fact, Gerard had a veritable fixation on his wife. Really, she was all he wanted. Since they’d been together so long, he had a plethora of nude photos and videos from each era of their relationship. Her late twenties, early twenties, teenage years… They’d been sending nudes and filming their sex life for as long as they’d been together. Lately, he’d been watching old videos and poring over photos from when she was 18, 19, and 20. She was 32 now, still beautiful, but not in the same way. She was milfy, breedable, still slutty as ever. She was horny, submissive, down to try anything — threesomes, voyeurism, even an orgy. He loved her exactly the way she was. Yet the youthfulness and inexperience in those old videos — not to mention the thin, supple body of a teenager — drove him absolutely wild. In a previous epoch, the nudes would have been enough on their own — a glimpse into a past life. But the possibility of actually recreating the past, of bringing that sexy little 18 year old back to life…it possessed Gerard. It became an obsession.

He gazed longingly at a nude she took at 18. Blonde hair cascaded down her thin shoulders. Her delicate twig arms shimmered in the light’s dim glow, tousling her wavy hair. Her pussy was shaved smooth, legs spread casually for the camera. Abs were outlined faintly against her stomach, driving him crazy. Her little breasts, perky and pink, looked like they were molded by the gods. And that look in her eyes…that damned look…her dark eyes were insatiable, lustful, **** and dominant all at once.

As Gerard recalled, he was sent this photograph after they’d only slept together once. Well, one occasion, that is. They’d fucked dozens of times that weekend in the hotel room. She fucked like a wildcat despite being nearly virginal. Yes, she was inexperienced, but she made up for her lack of knowledge with irrepressible lust and stamina. Gerard, slightly older and more experienced, could hardly fit his cock into her tight little pussy. It was a struggle. And when he finally thrust himself inside her, trying so very hard to be gentle, he came almost immediately. He held his throbbing dick inside her, grasping her hips with mighty ****, shooting massive white loads of cum into her teenage pussy. She seemed to moan with every throb of his cock, submissively pumped full of his seed. Ordinarily, he would’ve been embarrassed by finishing so quickly, but not that night. They both knew why he didn’t last. She was flattered, and he was in heaven.