The Doppelganger Conspiracy

This is my contribution to the Secret Santa Story Exchange over on Gay Spiral Stories this month! The two tags I received were…not my usual sort of thing, “teachers” and “robots”, but I’m honestly pretty pleased with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy it!


“Coach, can I…talk to you about something?” Evan said as he stepped into Coach Harrison’s office. Football practice had ended half an hour ago, and Evan had dragged his feet getting undressed and showering while the rest of the team had left already, leaving him and the coach alone for the moment. 

“Sure Evan, what’s up?” Harrison said, looking up from his computer. The coach was in his mid forties, and kept himself in good athletic shape. He was well liked by the whole team, and in Evan’s opinion, was a good listener. Now, Evan just had to hope that the coach wouldn’t think he’s crazy.

Evan hesitated a moment, looking down at his sneakers, then up again. “Have you noticed something…off, about Rick and Phillip? Joshua too?”

Harrison cocked an eyebrow, “I don’t think so, you’re all playing great out on the field,” Harrison said, “I think we have a real shot at going to state this year, honestly.”

It was true. When the team had started practicing in late summer, they’d been good. Good, not great. But after about a month, some of the players had improved remarkably–specifically Rick, Phillip and Joshua, who were all seniors like Evan. They were almost too good to be high school players, but none of them would admit something had changed. “I just, something’s off about…how good they’ve gotten.”

Harrison sighed, “Look, Evan, if you’re worried that they’re upstaging you, don’t stress about it! You’re just as crucial to this team’s success as they are.”

“It’s not–I’m not jealous! It’s more than just…how good they got all of a sudden. Have…you met the new computer science teacher? Mr. Klein?” 

“Sure, what about him?”

“Does he seem normal to you?”

“Evan, what is this about exactly?”

This was the moment. How could Evan put to words the unease that had been building up in his gut over the last few months about his three friends? All of them all enrolled in Mr. Klein’s intro course to get an easy good grade in their senior year and immediately complained about how creepy the fellow was. How he was always sneaking looks at them, ogling them in class, making these lewd comments. Then, one by one, they’d gotten sick, were gone from school for three or four days, and when they came back, they were fine. Except none of them could recall complaining about Mr. Klein before. All of them were remarkably better at football, enough that their midtier school was expected to dominate the state championship. Little things, their eyes, their smell, their mannerisms, the way they only hung out with each other now, and no one else. It wasn’t right, something must have happened to them, but what? “I just, I think they’re…different, all of a sudden. I don’t know how I know, just…and I think Mr. Klein has something to do with it. Have any of them talked to you about anything? They don’t…talk to me really at all anymore, and they won’t even say why.”

Harrison leaned back in his chair, wearing the scowl he always had on when he was thinking deep about something. “Have…you told anyone else about this?”

A bit of hope flared in Evan’s chest. He believed him! “No, I haven’t, I…didn’t know who I could trust, and you know them, so I thought if anyone would have noticed something like me, it would be you. There is something off, isn’t there? What’s going on? It’s like they’ve all been replaced by clones, or robots!”

“I…have some suspicions. I’ve been taking some notes. Tell me what you think of these?” the coach said, and opened up a word document on the screen. Evan went over to look, only to find himself looking at a blank page. Before he could ask his coach what he meant, the older man leapt up from this chair, wrapped an arm around Evan’s neck, and had him in a choke hold from behind. Evan tried to fight him off, but all he succeeded in doing was kicking over the coach’s chair, his vision tunnelling and going black. He came to after a few moments, lying on the floor, and saw coach Harrison looming over him, drawing something from a vial into a syringe. Evan struggled weakly, but the coach plunged the needle into his neck, and after a few moments, darkness overwhelmed Evan again–a deep well of darkness, complete and total.


SYSTEMS CHECK…….PROCESSING PERSONA……….VERIFICATION…..

BOOT SUCCESSFUL

Evan woke up. It wasn’t quite like waking up, but that was what his head told him it was, and he had no way to contest it, so that’s what he called it. Waking up. But it wasn’t the gradual move from unconsciousness to awareness, it was like a switch. Everything wasn’t, then everything just was. He was awake, lying on a mattress naked, and there was Coach Harrison at the foot of the bed, staring at him, completely naked. “C-Coach? What’s going on? Where am I?” Evan said, trying to remember what had happened, but he couldn’t seem to recall anything from beyond the end of practice. He’d talked to him about something, hadn’t he? But what?

“Fuck, he said you’d smell better than the other models, let’s see, eh?” Harrison said, and the burly, hairy man climbed onto the bed with Evan. He tried to move, tried to do anything, but his limbs refused to respond. They felt heavy, like bricks attached to him, not like flesh. In fact, his whole body felt off, cold and hard and immobile, but that didn’t make any sense, none of this made any sense at all. Coach Harrison pushed up one of his arms, shoved his nose into Evan’s pit, took a long sniff, and then released the breath with a shuddering sigh. “Fuck, fuck! You’re fucking perfect, fucking…” he snorted up more of Evan’s smell, and he could smell it too now. It didn’t smell like his body usually did. It was deeper, earthier, thicker somehow. It didn’t smell entirely human. “Fuck boy, you’re gonna get coach so fucking hard, I hope you’re fucking ready,” Harrison said, pulling away from Evan’s pit and leering down at him.

“Coach, what’s going on? I don’t understand what’s wrong, why can’t I move.”

“Shut up, you stupid hunk of junk. Enter bottom mode, plus nullification.”

Something inside Evan’s body, something unfamiliar, whirled to life in his guts, or what should have been his guts. He could feel it churning though, like gears, like screws. It made him nauseous at first, and he kept expecting there to be pain, but there was only discomfort. Looking down, he saw something happening to his cock, the flesh separating into panels with metal visible inside. It telescoped, and proceeded to retract down into his groin until it was flush with his crotch, and then the flesh smoothed back over, leaving him with just a hairy patch, his nuts sucked back up inside his body as well. Coach reached down and grabbed hold of the blank patch–Evan felt nothing, not a mote of pleasure from the touch. Harrison gripped him tighter, making Evan wince–there was the pain, a familiar sense of pain, but somehow not entirely familiar to him, like it was tracing new paths through his body to his mind to be understood. The coach’s hand slid lower, between his thighs, parting them, to his hole. One finger grazed Evan’s ass, and he let loose a moan of surprise. His body–he could move now, but he didn’t seem to have full control. His asshole twitched, his legs spread wider, and he could feel, and hear, something wet down there as the coach slid a finger into Evan’s ass. “Coach, please…don’t…” he muttered, but he couldn’t get anything else intelligible out through the moans.

“Shut up. Good to know the lube pump is working up in there, good and slick already,” Harrison said, and forcefully rolled Evan over. “Get into position B.”

Evan didn’t know what that meant, but his body knew, somehow. His limbs moved him onto hands and knees, ass high, back arched, hole flexing. The sensation of gears and hydraulics inside his limbs made the nausea return, but there was no sense of organs inside him. What on earth was wrong with him? What was he? Harrison’s cock slid up and down his ass crack, and each time it caught on his hole, Evan shuddered and gasped, until the coach finally slid inside him. His ass gave no resistance at all, and there was no pain, only a deep pleasure, a satisfaction at being used and penetrated that sprang right to the forefront of his mind, told him how much he liked being fucked, how much he wanted to coach to use him. Harrison pulled him tight, and shoved his nose into one of Evan’s pits from behind. He could feel his coach’s cock throb and harden further. 

“Make that ass pulse for me, milk my cum out.”

Evan’s hole started throbbing and sucking at the coach’s cock. He couldn’t control it, he couldn’t even understand how he was doing it, the mechanics completely alien to him. His body, what was wrong with his body? He tried to sob, tried to scream, tried to crawl away, tried to beg, but all he could do was moan as his coach slid in and out of his pulsating asshole.

One side of the room was mirrored. Behind that mirror, looking on, was Evan. In horror, he watched as his coach fucked the android copy of himself that Mr. Klein had made of him over the last few days while he was unconscious, the android that had all of Evan’s memories and personality copied into it, the android that had no clear idea that it was in fact just a machine. A machine that Mr. Klein had crafted to pleasure other himself and his accomplices, like Coach Harrison. 

Of course, Harrison hadn’t been thrilled at the idea when Klein had mentioned it to him, but after a few brainwashing sessions, as after getting him addicted to the unique pheromone he could only get from the androids’ pits–from Rick, Phillip, Joshua, and now Evan–he’d been more than happy to help Mr. Klein execute his master plan. Knowing that the androids were sure to help the school’s team win the state championship didn’t hurt either. 

The real Evan, the Evan made of meat, he struggled in the bondage chair Mr. Klein had him strapped into, but it was no use. All he could do was look away as the coach roared and came deep in his doppelganger’s hole, only to lean in, snort up more of that artificial musk, and feel his still leaking cock return to full hardness in a matter of moments.

“It’s quite the powerful aphrodisiac,” Mr. Klein said, from where he was standing beside Evan, “I’ve seen him get eight or nine orgasms in during a single session. His nuts run dry around the sixth ejaculation, but your coach is a persistent fellow. He knows what he wants.”

“Is this what you fucking did to my friends, you fucking freak?” Evan said, “You fuck–god damn it, let me fucking go! You think no one will notice?”

“No one will notice. Even if they do, trust me, I’ll make sure they become just as committed to helping me with my plans as Coach Harrison there is,” Mr. Klein said, “This is just a beta test, after all. It won’t be long before I can replace important people. Business leaders. Congressman. Before long, I’ll have everything I ever wanted. No one will care about some high school that went to state this year–you won’t matter at all. You’re just my seed funding.”

“What?” Evan asked.

“You don’t think I’d be stupid enough to let you keep your mind, do you?” Mr. Klein said with a chuckle. “I have your memories and personality backed up, just in case the bot in there gets corrupted somehow. I don’t need you anymore, for anything. Of course, a body like yours,” the teacher said, running his hands over Evan’s toned body, down to his youthful cock and down his thighs, “Bodies like this are worth quite a lot. Some people still value flesh over artifice, for now at least. And since I can give you whatever mind I want…well, let’s just say you’re going to be a high value commodity, once I customize you. Of course, I wasn’t planning on converting another so soon–I don’t have a buyer for you yet. That doesn’t mean we can’t return you to factory settings, of course.”

Evan struggled as Mr. Klein lowered the helmet down onto his head, the same helmet that had copied and digitized his entire mind over the last few days. Erasing a mind, though, was much easier, and would be complete in a matter of hours. All that would remain of Evan, the original Evan at least, was a new basic protocol of a cock hungry slave, eager to obey and service any man–the perfect foundation for whatever his new owner would desire him to be. Evan begged  and pleaded for mercy, as they always did, then there was a bright flash inside the helmet, and the young man slumped over in the chair where he was strapped, his mind being wiped clean of anything troublesome. 

Mr. Klein walked over, put a hand under his limp chin, lifted him up and used his thumb to wipe a little drool from the corner of his new slave’s mouth. He looked over at the coach, about to unload into the android for the second time. He really should wait for the processing to complete before using his new toy, but watching the coach rough up at slutty robot, and listening to Evan’s pleading had gotten him plenty horny. He dropped his pants, pushed his cock into Evan’s slack mouth, and fucked his face roughly, feeling the mouth start to suck on him instinctually.

Maybe this one, Mr. Klein would keep for himself, as a personal pet. It had been a long time since he’d had one for himself. He’d gathered plenty of seed money at this point, and he had to admit, Evan was handsome. He could picture the young man now, shaved completely, crawling around on all fours, cock forgotten and locked away within a steel chastity cage, perhaps his nuts removed entirely. There were a few more extreme programs that Mr. Klein had been working on that he needed a guinea pig for–he could envision making Evan a complete masochist, only able to receive pleasure from painful stimuli. Making him beg his new master to tattoo him all over his body, pierce him, destroy him–and when he’d been all used up, he could always sell him off cheap to some biker gang that needed a gimp and fuckdoll to abuse.

Mr. Klein was so excited by the thought that he drove his cock in deep to the young throat and exploded, feeding his new slave the first load of many more to come. He pulled free, and smiled. For Mr. Klein, it seemed that Christmas had come a few months early.

Ditto Sketch (2/2)

Don’t ask me how I got my Ry clone home, but I did. It was slowly beginning to discern human behavior from it’s observations of me–but I had something else in mind–I sat the thing down in front of the computer, and started playing a massive compilation of porn in front of the strangely dead eyes, allowing it to absorb positions, fetishes, appearances, and then we started playing. The flesh wasn’t…quite right to the touch–mostly because it was room temperature, but it had a nice ass which I was more than happy to fuck, and just like in the porn films it had absorbed, it made it perfectly clear that it enjoyed having my cock in its hole.

So now, after a few weeks, I have my own version of Ry–except mines much, much better than the original. It doesn’t have to eat or drink. I’ve taught it how to do all of the chores around the house with general success. It’s perfectly obedient to everything I say and command, and I can dress it up in whatever kinky gear I want, and do whatever strange thing I want to do to it. Or at least, that’s how it was, for a while.

Admittedly, I’ve never tested Ditto in this fashion. Id’ never even allowed it to hole a form for longer than a few hours before this. Naturally…it’s starting to behave a bit strangely. For one thing, it’s cock has grown massive all of a sudden. I don’t know where it got the extra mass to grow larger, but somehow it did. It’s also become kind of…clingy all of a sudden. I keep waking up with the thing wrapped around my body in a tight hug, and I have to pry it off me each time. I think it’s time to retire this blob, and return it to mush–but I think, one more fuck first.


Fuck! Oh fuck, it’s out there. I woke up with that thing around me again–but this time, I was…literally inside of it. I had to claw my way out of the mass, and I ran in here, and the shit’s still all over me, and I can’t get it off! Worse, it’s…melding to me, becoming a part of me. I think…I know where it got the raw material for it’s extra mass now–it got it from my cum…and piss…and all those things I thought had gone missing over the last few weeks. Oh god, it’s growing, it’s taking over my body, I can feel it–I…I look just like it now, and I can’t breathe, but that’s…that’s ok? Everything is…dull…I need…fuck. Yeah, need to fuck. Find other fuck thing, there’s fuck thing. Fuck. Fuck, grow, spread, more fuck things. Make more fuck things.

Ditto Sketch (½)

At some point, in order to make progress, you have to step over at least some ethical line, right? Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself, watching the thing I’d invented–a thing I liked to call Ditto, for reasons you’ll understand in a moment–take on the spitting image of a the rat in the cage with it. Was it alive? It was in a sense, I suppose. Over the next few hours, as Ditto figured out how to observe and take in it’s environment, as it learned, it began to move, following the parent rat around the cage. Learning how to eat, learning that it pooped, learning to drink water. Later, when I cut it open, Ditto had formed a rudimentary internal structure to accomplish the tasks at hand, but nothing like a real rat would have–because, of course, it wasn’t really alive. It was more like…a smart substance. Perhaps, even, a kind of artificial intellect, and amazingly easy to mass produce. And perhaps…well, it wasn’t exactly human testing, right?

See, I have a crush on this guy–his name is Ry, and he doesn’t know I exist, but whatever. He’s cute as fuck, and I’d never have a chance with him in real life, given that he’s straight and popular and so on, but maybe, with a sample, I could have a Ry of my own. It took about a month to assemble enough raw Ditto for what I was thinking, and that gave me plenty of time to sneak into the locker room while Ry was practicing and collect a DNA sample for Ditto to use. I waited until everyone had left the lab that night, and gave Ditto the sample and jolt of energy–watching the mass of goo begin forming into a coherent shape–seven hours later, there it was, a perfect replica of Ry, essentially comatose, right in front of me.

So yeah, I jacked off–and to my surprise, the Ditto started to copy me, and began to jack off as well. Not long after I came, it too spurted a solution which at least looked like semen, even if it really wasn’t. I hadn’t planned on this going any further–I’d duplicate Ry, just to see if I could, and then dissolve the Ditto back down to mush. But if it could, in fact, learn, then why not have a bit more fun with it?

This had to have been the craziest morph program Jeremy had ever seen. Not only had it automatically scanned him into the program somehow, it seemed like there was no limit to what the program could change. He was looking at an image very different from what he was used to–the older, chubby daddy bear he’d always dreamed of being, and decided that he was finished, and hit the render button. 

The program locked down down for a moment, and then nothing. No change, no new image. He grumbled a bit, surprising himself with the deepness of his voice, and rushed over to the mirror, and gasped in shock. It was definitely a morph program, just not what he’d expected. In a panic, he rushed over to his computer, hitting some keys by accident, and saw a new message as the computer locked down again. 

“‘Clone brush activated’, what the hell?” he said.

“Well how about that,” an identical voice said behind him, and he turned around to see two duplicates of himself had materialized out of nowhere. He’d always been a bit curious what it would be like to fuck himself–and now he was about to find out.