Multiplicity & Division

There are a number of jobs that suit those suffering from Mitotic Disorder.

Without treatment, those with the condition tended to replicate to fill the available space, splitting off copies until their body’s biological drive to surround itself with copies was sated. A man could fill a football stadium in a matter of days with enough food and water, churning out doubles of himself until the whole world was overrun.

Treatment was easy though. Tight clothing. Or enclosed spaces. Mitotics could benefit from their body’s increased capacity for growth without the burden of over producing twins, although given the occurrence of the disorder was seemingly unpredictable, every mitotic did tend to have a identical brother or two.

Inevitably Mitotics tended towards jobs that suited their condition. Workout trainers in compression clothing, firefighters in heavy clothes they couldn’t split in, police officers with undersized uniforms. Even soldiers, at least before Mitotics were banned from service when it was far too easy and problematic to spawn a dangerously self replicating army.

Tim was a deep sea diver and for the most part the everyday job was enough. The pressure and wetsuit kept his body nice and claustrophobic enough to prevent it from thinking he needed company. Rather it merely replicated his cells, giving him a nice physique without even working out.

Of course, one needs to stay vigilant in their condition. When his boss had struggled to find another diver like him, the guy had his all his tight clothes and had locked Tim in a room. It had been a sweet thought, had it not been a federal offense to produce copies without permission. Such a thing was a nightmare for IDs and taxes, Tim knew.

Thankfully Tim had the willpower to stop a full replication, his head only splitting in two before his boss had second thoughts and let him free.

Tim wasn’t mad, neither of him were. Sure he loved his crew mates (boss still somehow included), but it was nice to have a new brother again. Especially one so close to him, given they shared everything from the collar bone down. It was fun too, diving with himself, even if they needed to modify their scuba gear. Sharing the work of swimming deep and performing underwater repairs. One of him petting a curious shark as the other kept working.

He’d surprise his land lover brothers back home in a couple months with his new body. They’d inevitably want a piece of it. Maybe he could even convince them to add another head onto their body plans.

Oh, uh you have a twin brother?” Joseph asked, unsure of what he was seeing.

His Hinge date, Tyler, in duplicate. The same guy twice. Photocopied completely in the same sheepish smile, bright eyes and facial scruff. Even their identical cut hair was styled in the same exact way, every slightlyu messy strand matching a counterpart on the other.

It was uncanny.

Aside from the clothes at least. One of the two dressed as he’d met Tyler hours before, patterned button up, casual slacks and new boots. The other though dressed uncharacteristically, wearing a leather jacket and leather pants that seemed built for a larger gruffer man. Not that Tyler’s twin didn’t look stunning in it, just that he seemed to need a belt.

“Twin brother?” the one in the leather jacket apologized, hooking a belt loop on his jeans to adjust their loose fit over a rock-hard erection. “Nah I just have a sister” the other said, adjusting his own slacks for his identically hard monster.

“Uh…. Okay” Joseph said in front of his finished plate of ravioli. He’d sat here for twenty minutes thinking Tyler had dined and dashed. The waitress had looked at him pityingly. He’d been so mad and so sad.

His own erection was uncomfortable in the stupid tight jeans, watching the presumably two Tylers squeezed into their side of the table booth, easily occupying each other’s space. The leather of one’s jacket squeaking against the polymer seats as the other quickly tried to dig into his long cold meal. By the grimace on the guy’s face, the cold steak didn’t hit as hard as it had been twenty minutes ago.

Joseph would feel cold satisfaction if he wasn’t so hypnotized. He shook himself out of it.

“Who is this Tyler? Is this a fucking joke” he nearly shouted. The waitress across the room noticed their strange table, shooting him a bewildered look before cautiously backing away from whatever this was.

Tyler, both of him, had the audacity to look aghast at him for a few moments before they both seemed to realize the same thing.

“Wait how long has it been” the one in leather said, trying to read a clock uselessly on his wrist. It was loosely dangling there, and the man didn’t have a clue on how to adjust it. It was unfortunately pathetically cute.

“At least 15 minutes” the other said thoughtfully chewing, as if reading the time by the lukewarmness of his 40-dollar steak. He looked disappointed at the meal, the same stupid wet cat look of the other on his face.

The took a moment before…. “Sorry” they said in perfect synchrony. The same tone and everything. Even that took them by surprise, the two shooting each other a quick surprised grin before they schooled their expressions back into appropriate sorryness

Joseph’s brain was boiling just trying to think right now.

“Its….fine….I just…” he tried, eyes trying to focus on one Tyler, but unable to linger as he caught the other fidgeting. God Tyler had been distracting, but two were awful. “I don’t know what to even say” he decided

“Uh it took longer than expected” the Tyler in the button up said sheepishly, adjusting his collar. There was dirt on it, Joseph noticed.

“He, I mean uh I guess I, really fought him” the other said, laughing awkwardly, scratching his shadow of facial hair. Taking a bite of the cold steak the other had carefully cut and seeming to experience the same disappointment of the coldness of it. “Its fine though, no one got hurt!”

Fought? They fought? Why? Does fighting take twenty minutes? Why were there two Tylers. Was Joseph dreaming. If he was, they better get to the fun part of it by now rather than this weird trippy part. Where Joseph got dicked down by two copies of a handsome stranger on hinge rather than grappling with the reality of it.

“Its just I, I mean we, after hearing your funny threesome story with your ex” The one in the button up said, desperately explaining as he seemed to watch Joseph reel in his internal spiral of questions. “So I just thought I could make some backup”

“I’m the backup” the other said brightly.

Joseph decided he was dreaming. The ravioli had been suspiciously good for a chain fine dining restaurant. What even was a DJs Eats.

“Alright” Joseph said, staring down the waitress. They understood each other on a level he’d nbever thought he’d achieved in knowing someone for an hour. She subtly mouthed “What the fuck” as she casually handed him a glass of whiskey.

“Oh can I, uh we, have one of those” One of the Tylers chirped up.

“Sure” the Waitress said flatly, before shooting Joseph another look. Two more whiskeys later and Joseph had decided she’d earned her forty percent tip. It was a dream anyways. It had to be.

They sipped their whiskeys, or at least Joseph did. The Tylers didn’t seem to enjoy the drinks, their forced efforts to look like they appreciated the flavor done in reflection before the cold arbitor that was Joseph. God they were dorks and the alcohol already rushing into his brain really calmed the part that was still screaming why over and over.

“So what were we talking about before, the Knicks?” One of them said, the other nodding.

“No” Joseph said, cool confidence from the strong pour of whiskey in his veins. “Explain what you two are? Aliens? Changelings? Backup how? Is this my subconcious punishing me for watching that twin porno?” he said, almost calmly.

The two seemed to light up at that last part, a manic glint in their matching crazy perfect eyes. “You like twins?” They said, as if they’d just lucked into a winning gamble.

“Focus please” he said, sinking down into his plastic booth cushions.

“Uh I guess I’m a clone” the one in the leather jacket said, not unsubtly adjusting his leather pants again. He nudged the other who was also mirroring him, trying to adjust his own far too tight boxers, clearly peaking out under his shirt. “This guy was kind enough to help me come into myself. You know like be a better man and stuff”

“Some pathetic neo-Nazi skinhead-type tried to come onto me in the bathroom” the other said helpfully, stretching his arms back from his painfully clearly erect cock and smoothly wrapping an arm around the other’s neck in clear affection. “He seemed miserable so I thought I’d cut the guy a break. Sucks being a cunt, so I gave him the chance to not be one?”

“Eh we might still be cunts” the one in the leather jacket said apologetically, shrugging at Tyler. Was that self-awareness?

“So, what happened…..” Tyler digested, lightly swirling the ice in his whiskeyless glass, “is you gave a man you’re body after he tried to grope you? In the bathroom of a DJ Eats.”

“Yeah, sorry about this place, the area seems oddly conservative now that we are here” the one in the patterned shirt said, looking around the place. To be fair, it was a steak house.

“You were pretty much correct though, although its not just the body” The one in the jacket said, seeming now just to be self-consciously checking the patches on his jacket and inspecting them for dog whistles. The guy would get away Scott free on it though. Joseph had been eyeing him up and down. He hadn’t seen any swastikas, lightning bolts or 1488s on the guy’s nicely creased leather. Just rock bands and motorcycle clubs hung off the creases shaping around Tyler’s well-formed arms.

The other patted his twin. “This guy’s me completely. Took out all the creepy stuff and stuffed myself inside. My little bro!” He said, winking at Joseph.

God he was hard and now he was sure the Tylers thought he got off to that sibling dynamic.

Did he?

Nah.

This was something else.

“So, you just completely overwrote some guy” Joseph said, watching the supposedly elder Tyler jokingly noogie his twin brother. Joseph could appreciate the attempt at playing up the dynamic with the goal of turning him on, given that’s what they were doing. Why was he into the weirdest shit.

“Yeah, Its like bodyswapping man” One said with, unsatisfied with leaving questions unseeded.

“Just like bodyswapping the other agreed.

“Obviously” Joseph said, hoping the waitress could read his mind again and supply him with more liquid sanity.

“Yeah, we discovered it what… like freshman year of college” One said toi the other.

“Yeah, in the dorm when we’d tried to take over Franco’s body. Hiccuped on the transfer and suddenly I’d left a copy of myself in Franco”

“Nice guy after that”

“Well, he was us”

“Took a while to figure out shaping bodies though”

“Yeah, this is actually the first time we’ve gone so far”

“Don’t think its reversible:

“Not like we’d try”

“Yeah no”

“Remember when we-“

“Ok you two I get it”, Joseph said, trying to fight a grin a tweedle dee and tweedle dum. God the two were so corny, bickering. By all means this was a bit, Joseph wanted to say. It wasn’t though. “So you two are warlocks-“

“Eh kind of, but anyone can do what we do it just takes breathing exercise-“

“Warlocks” Joseph continued. “Warlocks who wanted to impress me by eating some creep and popping out a twin so I could fuck two of you”

The Tylers nodded. One gave a thumbs up.

“This is insane” Joseph sighed, watching their expressions fall for a moment before he put a hand up to pause them in their collective disappointment.

“Doesn’t mean I hate it” He said, leaning on the table. Enough to taste the whiskey coming off from them. The two Tylers seemed to wobble, clearly lightweights. They leaned forward as if Joseph was a magnet with stupid cute grins. Joseph could barely think at the overpowering idea of him sandwiched by the two handsome jesters. Curiosity had come with the booze though and this dream could get better.

“You talk about this shit like its easy. Show me” He said.

The two glanced at each other before their grins covered their face. God he could already imagine the wet spot in the two’s pants with the imagination so clearly visible in their all too expressive eyes.

“Like we change you into us or-“

“We swap into you-”

“Two minds, one body-“

“Or three minds, one body fuck-“

“Boys” He said, and they quieted, instantly. God they were like puppies, so ready to please.

“Show me how to do it” he demanded, leaning forward enough to kiss the one in front of him. He must’ve, given the way that Tyler blushed and the other seemed elated. God he was drunk.

“Theres that bar with a lot of shitheads” One nearly shouted in ramping excitement.

“What is it Satan’s Anus or something” the other thought, although he was already clumsily typing it into google maps. “3-minute walk, thank god.” He said, the other doing his part by waving over the waitress who seemed ready to shove a bill into his hands. It seemed expensive, but neither noticed. Had Joseph drunk more than one whiskey? Either ways, drunk hands worked the apple pay. Joseph shrugged at the waitress after and was hurt to see the women look at him as if he was now part of this supernatural occurrence. No longer someone to commiserate with, now he was the loony toon.

“Trust me its so easy” One said, pulling him out the door of DJ Eats fine dining. The other practically hung off Joseph as they tumbled away, likely the one he’d kissed. He couldn’t tell who was who even with their different clothes. They were too much in motion.

He’d hold them down soon and make them messy enough to differentiate. Hell maybe two of him could work together to figure it out. Wasn’t that a funny thought.

The three of them fell into the night.

Joseph awoke to a body beside him.

A body that wasn’t the triplets unconscious around him, with their scruff and overly hot bodies befitting of their wild energy. Even in sleep they seemed manic, twitching and cuddling into him.

It wasn’t their bright eyes that looked back at Joseph bleerily, recounting the same night. A bar bathroom. A fight. A long walk on too many feet, wearing clothes that didn’t fit. Hands on himself and hands on Tyler. Long showers, too full of bodies trying to wash off the exercise of so many bodies in the same bed. It was a big bed. Comfy. Comfy more so with so many warm blankets of men.

Joseph looked at himself.

Joseph looked back.

“Fuck it wasn’t a dream” One of them said.

“Hell no it wasn’t” another voice said from aways the room. Another Joseph in nothing but a apron by the bedroom door. Looking all the world pissed that he was standing there while they slept. A greasy spatula in hand. The sound and smell of eggs in the room over.

They both stared agape at their clone.

“Get over it you two, there’s enough of us that we’re already out of ingredients. Y’all slept in so you get to go buy more. Now get dressed and get going fuckers. Seems like Tyler can’t cook for shit, so we’re working double duty.”

Joseph could hear other voices outside the bedroom. His voice. Largely. Duplicated too many times over.

This was insane. Insane. A insane dream.

He felt the insanity inside him, burbling in easy waves under his skin. It was easy, just like Tyler said it was. Ready to warp and shift as he needed. As he plural needed.

“Guess we got to get going Joe”

“Sounds good Joe”

“Good initiate boys” their apron self said with a narcissistic grin. “Let’s feed those dorks, lord knows the Tylers doubled themselves far more than us. Get ready for a long long weekend. We’ve earned it. And if you pick up any more Joes at the grocery store, buy extra food and don’t tell Tyler. Man is competitive with this shit”

“Okay” Joseph sighed into his double, nearly waking a Tyler.

This was insane. Curled up beside himself, staring in sync at a particularly adorable Tyler. Cloned countless times over. An entire dive bar worth of bodies now in Tyler’s generously sized loft.

Fucking crazy.

Sick of a housemate? Sick of a friend?

Spray em.

It only takes one ounce of raw DNA and a cheap can of Quicke Clone and your problems are over.

His young brother, Mathew, was getting real annoying lately, pathetic drunk that he was. Tanner had picked the sorry guy up six times this month, the 29 year old arrested half of them.

He shook up the can and sprayed at the dope saturated zombie in front of him. His brother not even bright enough to register the stream of mist, curdled as his brain was.

Tanner had jerked off enough into the can to make sure the transformation was as fast and easy as the packaging advertised.

The mist curled around the drug addled face of his brother and it seemed to sobered him. Not from the alcohol and smoke infusion he’d gotten high off of, but rather from the brain cells flowing in to replace the old worn out meat rotting inside the empty skull.

Tanner watched fascinated and just a little too excited as the powerful spray worked its charm. His brother’s sallow skin filling out like a balloon with Tanner's tanned slight muscles, popping out every needle scar and misbegotten tattoo. His brother’s patchy face grew in like a manicured lawn, light brown hair trimmed and healthy.

The form filled out before the mind could catch up, tightening the worn out stained tanktop and basketball shorts his brother hadn’t washed in weeks. Mathew seemed confused by the change, some aspect of Tanner’s wiser brain cells activating to reflect on the strangeness of his stronger body and new found distaste for the aftertaste of pot on his tongue.

Tanner could’ve stopped then and been satisfyied with his much improved younger brother. His pa would’ve been so proud up in heaven, watching how he helped his brother from his fall from grace.

But Matthew wasn’t worth a redemption arc. Or any of Tanner’s hard fought brains and body. The only guy who deserved that was Tanner. He concentrated the spray on Matthew’s face and it power washed any remains of the guys face and mind from its pathetic roots.

Tanner could see his self come into existence. The guy standing patient as Tanner finished of the bottle just to make sure none of Matthew tainted self stuck around to bring him down.

Tanner identical to the last pore, smiling calmly at him. Only differentiated by his sorry excuse for clothes, the last bits of Matthew’s waste.

“Think I need a shower Tanner” the guy said.

“Think I could help you with that Tanner” Tanner enjoyed himself saying. “Mind if I join you?” He said, already knowing the guys answer.

“You know I don’t” he said, predictably.

They walked to Tanners truck and he let the new guy drive. Matthew wouldn’t have been let anywhere in this truck that wasn’t the back, strapped down in a drunk stupor. Tanner though, Tanner could trust himself.

They left the empty can behind them as they drove off to a night to themselves. Finally free of their useless brother.

Quickee Clone.

Spray and Problems Go Away!

“Man you really fucked this one up Marty huh”

Brent was remarkably chill given the circumstances. One far too unresearched shapeshifting spell and couple important key substitutions in the potion and here Marty was.

One couldn’t approach magic with the mindset of a cook Marty found. It was much more like baking, where one couldn’t just add some cherry coke to the strand of Hunk hair in place of the virgins blood.

Marty had wanted to be Brent since he was a kid. They’d grown up together on each other’s periphery, Marty the nerdy quiet kid and Brent the confident town beloved athlete. Where as Brent would go on to score a winning job and a hot wife, Marty worked from home alone.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this” Marty said to the head now firmly attached to him. The half of his body that wasn’t his. The hard rod dominating his own under their mismatch of clothes.

“You didn’t want to have my body” Brent said, teasing. Flirting, like he did with everyone. Probably. He always did it with Marty at least. Who was nobody

“Not like this” Marty defended. The spell should’ve put him in Brent’s body and done away with the original. He just had to get creative with it.

It seemed to work until the changes traveled up from his torso. Slowly converting from left to right, replacing Marty’s mountaineering scars with Brent’s untouched perfect skin. Then it had frayed and moments later a fresh new copy of Brent’s head was sprouting from his own.

“If I knew you were this obsessed with me, we could’ve just skipped this part you know” Brent said and Marty could feel the guys smile stretch his own face where they connected. He couldn’t even look at the guy with how their skulls merged. Not that it was comfortable. It disturbingly was uncomfortable at all.

“You’re just saying that because you’re some freak mutation” Marty said. The real Brent was out there unaffected by Marty. The real Brent wouldn’t get off to this like his new body mate clearly was

“Hm” Brent said, in thought. “You don’t think I could convince you.” He said, reaching for their cocks.

Marty didn’t stop him

“Always wondered how yours looked honestly” the parasite said in Brent’s beautiful voice. “Not as big as mine, but damn does it feel heavy” he said, push his palm past their fused pants and past the amalgam of boxer and jock strap that held the two stiff towers down.

“Brent didn’t like me like that” Marty whispered, as Brent seemed to delight in what he saw peering down. Marty was forced to look down too, at the dual cocks below, branching from a single point. Marty’s thick cock dwarfed by its much longer new twin.

Brent scoffed before taking to his new plaything. It was like a lightning bolt hit Marty, the feeling of Brent’s rough basketball calluses hands gripping it. Like euphoric sandpaper rubbing back and forth, gritting his teeth.

“Speaking for myself, you're an idiot Marty” he said, silencing any protests with another slick pump. “Muscular Marty is what we called you man, fuck the whole baseball team was listing after you” he laughed.

“Mysterious Marty, always so alluring from afar” he teased, Marty unable to comprehend the words as he fought the urge to cum. He could feel Brent’s cock against Brent’s hand, the sensation of his knuckles against it. Fuck how was Brent still talking if he was feeling what Marty was feeling.

“Mountaineer Marty, nerdy ass I wanted to pound since you’d first stared me down” Brent must’ve have lied. It couldn’t be true. “Ruined that chance now, although this isn’t all too bad”

“Not like the real Brent is gone” Marty said and sentence broke his willpower.

Hot cum soaked their pants and dropped down onto their shoes. Naturally, Brent’s went off like a chain reaction, shooting its own geiser all the same.

“Fuck” they both said as the wave of euphoric heat raced through their body. It almost burned the sense out of them, unifying them in its afterglow

They sat there for a while breathing before Marty felt their lungs inhale for Brent’s coming comment.

“So I could still fuck you in the ass?” He said, back to playful, even as the relaxed tiredness seeped into his tone.

“I guess technically” Marty said, too happy to care about the parasitic Brent fused to him. “Like the real you I guess”

“Fuck yeah we’re calling him” Brent said, quick filing the number into Marty’s phone before Marty could even blink.

“Fuck no!” Marty shouted, before the real Brent’s voice came through.

“Remember to act just how we practiced” Kobe said, a note of excitement

It was a botched spell that had them turning noted fitness influence Jason Wright into a newt. A much more successful follow up spell was what let the novice coven of local gay men to fill in his shoes.

“Not like we have to practice with bodies like this” Milo said, flexing his pecs.

Jason was a known narcissist so Milo was never going to be far off. None of them were going to have difficulties acting turned on by their reflections.

Just made it distracting now that their coven had to live together, sharing Jason’s life. It was convenient he had a mansion for them to share. Less convenient that they had to each develop some skill in hacking, just so they could meet the guys many many appointments and keep posting tiktoks.

Magic of course didn’t give the bonus of memories to go with the body, but Kobe had studied Jason’s old TikTok’s and they’d gone through their hell week of Jason practice.

Bryan had it down perfectly, smoothly grinning in that devil may care way. Flexing unconsciously to draw every eye to himself.

“Just follow my lead fellow mes” he said, having fully sunk into the role since he’d transformed.

“He’s right boys” Kobe agreed. “Remember your shifts, we all get to have some fun, but wait for your turn. We can soft launch a twin brother or triplets if it gets annoying later, but we’ll have get real good at gaslighting prior to that”

The Jason’s nodded in practiced lack of attention. They were almost perfect, well except for Bryan, who was perfect.

“Great” Kobe clapped. “Get on today’s outfit and best Jason gets a blow job from me personally. Better beat my ass or I’m going to get real pissed blowing myself”

It was only Rhys who had the boots and the know how to fix the damage their last party did to their rental. It was only Rhys with the idea of how to get the manpower to fix it all in a weekend.

Sure it would cost a pretty penny, but Rhys had an in at the local hardware department store. He could sweet talk a brick wall, that boy, so their 100 bucks got them their first guy in the Crew-Me machine and 4 free go arounds so long as they fixed the store’s faulty light system.

A boy could they, with Rhys’s 22 years of raised in a workshop programming. 6 of him fresh of of the machine in their trusty identically dirtied boots and raukish grin on their collective face and the store was practically new by the evenings end.

2 more days and so was their rental place, no sight of shattered windows or ravaged dry wall in sight. Six Rhys paling around having the best time of their lives pampering every little touch, making the place shine like it never had before.

It was almost a shame for it to end, so they all collectively decided it didn’t have to. Rhys could use the help at his workplace anyways and it wasn’t like his friend’s lives were anywhere close to as fulfilling as his own. Especially now, with 5 new identical brothers to share bodies beds and boots with.

Besides, Rhys already organized their ragers before. Imagine what six of him could cook up.

Joey duplicated every time he jerked off.

It didn’t matter how or where. He would just be beating his meat watching gay porn and he’d hit that inevitable amazing climax. His orgasms were legendary of course, his body rewarding his fast tracked reproduction with a dopamine hit higher than the moon. It was like fire, the eruption of euphoria that was the feeling of feeling of cumming out a whole clone of himself. Immediately having the clone finish off the dregs of the cum that he was born out of. The two of them cuddling to watch more gay porn, mostly as a hobby.

Sad that the handsome batards only lasted with regular intake of his semen, but he was a responsible pet owner. If they were good they got to fill up on his fresh life force as much as they wanted.

Still, buying enough tracksuits was becoming a little financially annoying.

He’s probably flush the older ones tomorrow, just because they were getting demanding. It was a shame almost, but only barely.

Travis never understood how most twin brothers didn’t merge eventually during soccer matches. Even during practice, the 3 pairs of twin brothers (including him and Tommy) always inevitably fused halfway through running drills to keep up the pace. One moment Travis was getting tired and the next he’d grab Tommy and shove himself into him, their bodies melting together like putty. Tommy would roll his eyes and readjust their two cocks back into their now singular jock strap before their brains would lock in and they’d be back to it. Twinless teammates always looked so jealous of their combined stamina, especially when Tommy made a habit of showing it off. Then inevitably Kenny and his bro or Jacob and his own carbon copy would fuse to keep up. It was practice for the big games of course, where it was tradition to merge and swamp a team with three behemoths of unmatched skill and muscle.

Most teams just couldn’t match their bonds he guessed.

Fucking losers.

——————————————

This wasn’t how this was supposed to work.

Toby was a skin thief. A body snatcher. A practiced imposter effortlessly performing the oldest arts, the path of the doppelganger.

He and his gang had all been taught and sculpted in the ways. It was their right to abuse it, as it was their nature to ascend. To higher and greater forms. To find their ways into the upper echelons of this society by preying on the weak who couldn’t cut it. Steal their forms and kill their double. A tale as old as time.

Reilly was a weak fool like the rest.

But here Toby was.

His brain cells wilting. His body changing.

Toby was an experienced shifter, having moved beyond humanity since he was a lonely young man, given the opportunity to be more. He been a nobody then, but a smart one, having discovered the imposter who had killed his father. The shifter called himself Rich, although the name was new and the shifter was far older than its roots. He had taught the young man in his ways and inducted him into his pack, a proper father unlike the man Toby was used to in that body.

Rich had helped him in his first shift, guiding Toby’s shedding of his old form and into the beautiful man across the street. He helped him make the original disappear too, quick and efficient. And Toby had been that man, for eight long weeks until he got bored. So he followed Rich.

Riley was just some young idiot with a relaxed demeanor Rich had fixated on, finding the soon to be college dropout ever brainlessly posting body shots on Instagram. Riley was attractive, but Toby hadn’t really understood. Or cared.

Rich never came back. Riley started posting about his long-lost twin. Crazy that his mother couldn’t remember giving birth to the man also coincidentally named Riley.

Toby had thought Rich was playing a joke on the dumbass. Hell it seemed pretty funny to see just how much gaslighting the guy could take. Rich was amongst the best at a lie.

Then Angelo and Kamal had gone investigating and there was radio silence. Not from Riley of course, excited as the man was to show off how he was actually a surprise quadruplet. All named Riley of course.

Toby had been too self-absorbed on his own course of shifting to pay much mind. He’d been busy enjoying the body of a Olympic swimmer at the time, feeling he deserved to relax given the trouble of disposing of the original.

They were invincible he thought.

Riley penetrated every inch of him. Metaphorically of course, but also physically. Toby choked on Riley, but he couldn’t step away.

The group chat had gone silent and a he had stared intrigued at the absurdity of Riley’s social media. It seemed ai generated, the number of him. Was every one of his accomplices in the art in on the joke? The thought was a siren song.

Toby should’ve left it alone, but then he was in front of the dorm all his coven’s locations inevitably led to. He could half taste them, faint as his fellows were.

He’d done it by instinct just seeing the glazed over eyes of Riley. Reached out to the man’s image and pulled just a fragment over himself to get a taste. Just enough for some surface level memories or to dig deep enough to find Rich or Sam or one other of their number.

Then Toby was walking. To get into his dorm of course. To talk to Riley.

Riley smiled at him with the grin of someone who was failing every class and couln’t give a damn about it. His mind was confounding, boundless confidence with none of the skill or intelligence to form any foundation of ego. Like a happy still pool of empty thoughts.

“Who dude you look kinda like me” he said dopily.

“Dude maybe we’re brothers” Toby had said, although he hadn’t been able to place why.

“I only have identical brothers man” Riley said philosophically in thought, almost confused. “so if you’re like my bro, you should look like me I think”

“I will dude” Toby said and he meant it.

“Sick dude” Riley said, before shouting into the building

There were ants in his brain and they ate the when from the how.

More Rileys emerged from the building and they seemed to grab him. Not with hands of course, but with the volume of them. Both in body but also in spirit. Heavy with the aura of the supernatural.

The Rileys who crowded him with brotherly contact and quick grasping bear hugs leaked it out of every pore, the spiritual essence of themselves. The full force of all the magic he fellows had now saturating his lungs and breath.

“Fuck man you’re almost ripe” One of them said and Toby screamed inside as his smiled turned dopey.

“What does that mean bro” He asked, unable to understand. Understanding in general lost him, yet he went deeper.

“Pretty lame clothes man” Another said and Toby realized Riley was right. All these expensive clothes he had on now were so fancy and ridiculous. It was fine though, Riley had plenty of spare boots and flannels.

“We should match” Riley had said, or maybe multiple Rileys had said.

Toby was halfway through pulling on his new well used pair of boots before his emptying brain remembered something important.

“Bros wait” He said at the epitome, the idea hitting his brain like a meteor. It was sign of hope for the dying shifter soul inside the rapidly Riley shaping facimile trying to tie lacelsss boots.

“I’m fucking half naked already, anyone want to fuck me” He said, genuinely proud of himself. He was cheered of course, but the legion of himself.

“Einstein over here fellas!”

“Me first”

“No I’m fucking first nerd”

Whatever was left of Toby died with the first taste of cum from Riley’s cock. Riley felt the bad taste in his mouth get washed away, happy to be rid of that weird alien sinking feeling he had moment ago. Maybe it was that anxiety emotion people were always being loud about.

It seemed pretty stupid, he thought. Why worry about anything when all that was important was the now. Riley could barely remember where he was before he was sucking his own cock, feeling the same cock against his back and penetrating him from behind.

His bros came and Riley couldn’t even remember who was who at that point, but they all had the same name anyways so that hardly mattered. None of them would be the Riley who went to class anyways. All would get the privilege of being the Riley in the position he was in right now.

Riley was so happy he was a twin times sixteen. He didn’t know the word for it. Maybe he’d ask his followers, who’d be more than happy to meet his new brother, Riley. Was he that new brother? Who cared? His family maybe, but they always wanted Riley to find himself in college.

Riley finished his work on his dopey needy twin and felt two more grab him demanding his service. He smiled, before the smile was filled by both of the pricks.

When half the league football team got sick with the flu, Rory knew Coach would make him cover the empty spots. That was the price of being their star, able to fill every and all positions with the same unbeatable talent. Rory loved his team and would do anything to get them to the playoffs, even if that was chugging enough of the foul stem cell elixir to recreate an entire elephant. Worse was what came after, especially with his teammates laughing at his clumsy ass on the floor, unable to stand as carbon copy after carbon copy split awkwardly off of him. Coach ignoring him Rory as a fresh ambitious copy of him took his place captaining their team while the original was left to pop out the rest of their legion. Rory cursed the traitor, but he still had ten positions left to fill so taking back his spot would be a later problem.