Tumblr Is Fun

Joe had really over binged on Friday.

A burger, fries, milkshake. An entire amateur men’s league basketball team. 4 bottles of Gatorade and 11 energy bars. The coach who’d watched him assimilate his team and then devour all their snacks.

He’d half-known it was too much at the time, packing all those men into his body. Rewinding their DNA into coils around his own as he compacted all their knowledge and skills into neat boxes for unpacking and reorganizing into his mind.

He hadn’t even really known why he did it honestly. He’d already been a 10 upon his conception, back when his frat had been stuck on deciding a new president. 4 of those brothers had, the help of the college occult club, faceted themselves into each other. A simple process at the time, given the four beer crushing, class failing jocks had practically been the same man already.

It had taken Joe two years of excruciating tedious self-exploration before he’d been confident enough to have another go at it. Fusion was a tricky thing, especially if one wanted to essentially be the same guy in the end. Joe was selective, picking guys who already were him in a way, with similar lives and goals. Largely gym jocks, who could use a little more intelligence and game that could be gotten by braiding their brain stem’s with Joe’s.

At most 1 man a month, largely though only about 6 a year. A reasoinable pace, with enough time in between each man to properly digest their life story and incorporate their mass.

He’d never met a group of guys so much like him though. He had been jogging through downtown and the cocphany of jeering low voices and bodies against bodies had drawn him to their epicenter. A practical army of near identical men, only differentiated by hair color, slight skin tone differences and sneakers. Their personalities and movements were synchronous though, insulting each other the same way and laughing and shoving each other around.

One of them had seen Joe and like recognized like and upon a quick fist bump and introduction he had been in motion with them. Joe had a whole neatly arranged set of memories in his head to be perfect at the sport, much to the team’s delight and enthusiasm.

“You should play with us all the time bro” One of them had said, offering a water. Joe hadn’t even broken a sweat at the time, until that comment.

“Yeah wish I could be a man like you” Another had said, enviously taking Joe in.

Joe’s mind raced and it was like instinct took him over.

When they began their next practice match, he’d been happy the crew was so similar that they hadn’t even noticed their number dropping in between Joe tackling or shoving them into himself. His first becoming had taken ages of pushing and molding, but now he could combine with others in seconds. One second they were there and the next there was a pile of clothes, quickly kicked to the side of the court.

The coach had noticed Joe, learned when the coach became him, but the man had enough wisdom to recognize a good deal when he saw it. To be incorporated into a gestalt of young men meant a second lot in life, a ungodly better one at that given how Joe looked. Not that the coach hadn’t been a looker, Joe giving the man a pass despite how different the guy was to him. He was a handsome daddy and bloated with as much as Joe had taken, 14 guys in all, he’d said fuck it, before pushing the old guy in as well.

Joe had really thought he’d gotten away with it scott free too. Saturday had been enjoyable even, dozing off to football re-runs as he reshuffled his messy memories in record time. That older coach wisdom working overtime to negotiate nerurons into a working healthy gestalt of Joe. Joe wasn’t really an individual like that, even if functionally he was one person. Joe was more akin to a democracy really, all the individual parts of him deciding on which action he’d take, trading their individual experiances to make up his preferences. That night he’d gone out and bought a whole new closet for himself, learning in the moment that Kenny made him want his clothes tighter and Jack made him a total sneaker nut. Joe was glad he’d lucked out and his now much greater committee of selves were chill exploring himself. They’d all jerked off and even doing it together, it was essentially the same. Although this time with a whole more experience to draw from.

Still he’d felt stuffed that day though. Minds and souls were one thing to incorporate, as insubstantial as they were. But physical muscle and bone, that was something different. Conservation of mass reared its head despite magical assimilation trying to overpower it. Joe supposed it always did, but before his body had had the time to remove the excess and keep going as usual.

Maybe had he kept his libedo in line for at least a week it would’ve passed and he’d burp up all the excess carbon or be stuck throwing up 14 men’s worth of excess mass. This release was different though, as they all had. Too many nerves in his new dick, big as it was. It was like his brain melted.

And then he was falling apart.

The first time was like he exploded. He’d cum what felt like buckets and suddenly there was two warm bodies against him. Big bodies, panting.

His eyes staring down at him, pupils burning with all the same neurons that his did. His cock poking into his own ass, wet and leaking.

“Holy fuck” one of them said, not nearly freached out enough to stop from trying to touch himself. Each still so tense and over stuffed.

“Are you both still me” He’d said, worried he’d lost some voting members of his gestalt. Just a brief examination of his selves though showed all remained present. All curious and not enough afraid, resulting in Joe’s embracing off his other selves.

“I’m still the Joe I was a couple seconds ago” One said, moving to slid his body to face his doubles, below himself.

“Same” the other said.

“Fuck we’re hot” Joe said, despite the straight male majority of his being. They could all acknowledge the vanity and narcissism that made Joe such a functional being. Joe was bound to be somewhat gay as a gestalt, given he was a being made to appreciate himself.

He most certainly appreciated the selves in front of him, seeing his many selves duplicated in their eyes. He wanted to devour them, line up twin Kenny brains next to each other or see if Clark’s rivalry with his twin brother would only increase with extra copies in the race.

Joe cruched their lips together and was glad to experience his talent in third person. His mouth on his cock, the friction of his tongue down its length. Arms pulling and forcefully wrenching him into the place he wanted to be, straddled on their King bed.

It was well into the early morning until their work resulted in another Joe, their bottom pushing slowly into two exhausted selves on their sweat soaked sheets. The other Joes had kissed their tired selves in jealousy, wishing they too could release the tension just a bit more.

He passed out in quadruplet, four hot bodies steaming in the cold air.

Morning had made each thankful for their spending spree the previous day, given Jack’s sneaker obsession would hopefully keep them in the clear of running out of shoes. They’d be rationing the rest of their closet, at least until their Amazon order of bulk order shorts and shirts arrived.

Showering had left one Joe happily slowly split once more, coming out after the long lonmg shower in twain with happy smiles. The other Joes had showered prior, just slightly annoyed they’d have to fry more eggs for their new fifth’s breakfast, although mostly just happy for the extra company.

“This feel right, right?” One of them said, clad in old Joe’s running shoes, long stretched out from Fridays absorbing fest. Splitting didn’t seem to take away any superficial mass it seemed and thus they remained the supermen Saturday had shaped them into.

“Can’t say I’m mad about it” another said, cuddling the one of them frying bacon to go with the fifty odd eggs piled next to qa stack of toast.

“Feels less lonely” their chef said, smiling to himself as he felt his own arms around him. He’d realized it filled something missing in his core.

Joe was a team of more than 30 men in himself, working towards the same goal. Fufillment, sex and success, simple as that. It was a goal that Joe had been working toward to his own legion of satisfaction, but he hadn’t realized the self-sabotage of a project like himself.

Women were fine, men as well. Joe could find companionship easily, hell he was a magnet for it. He had all the combined charisma and jokes and sex appeal that made the world fall to his knees. He could have it all, anyone, anytime. They wouldn’t understand him though.

They all wanted to know Joe, but Joe wasn’t a single guy with his single ambitions. He was many life stories, each with a part to say. It wasn’t a topic that Joe could ever truly broach, and he’d tried. Woman found him self-centered and his few relationships with men lasted for weeks before they inevitably joined him.

His duplicates though. His brothers really. They didn’t need to be made to understand. They knew it all. That Charlie’s jokes were typically the ones that Joe decided upon, or that Rory made him run everyday. They even knew the parts of him that liked to fade into the background, the guys like Kyles and Josh who were happy to ride along as Zach and Tony powered Joe’s career and Riley and Cody filled out Joe’s hobbies. He wouldn’t need to make up some bullshit to disguise his massive life history or justify his existence.

“Hope we actually get fourteen of us” One of the Joe’s split from a shower said, shoving his split mate into his lap to mess up his hair. They were practically built to be in a crowd, how had Joe not seen that before.

It felt obvious now.

“Think we can still fuse together?” another said and it was something they’d all been thinking. So they’d never have to diverge, always able to reconverge and split back into pieces. So they could all share whatever guy would next join their fold.

“Definitely” Another said, and that was the thing with their magic. Intention was everything, even if Joe only ever intended things to be Joe.

“Later” a sensible version of them said, speaking out what their new Coach part warned. Coach already proving to be a useful voice to the impulsivity of their whole.

“Good to wait out this whole mitosis thing” he’d said, one of him. It came out in two voices anyways, given he was the Joe who hadn’t split his first time yet. His vision beginning to double as he felt every mind in him double. His hair getting thicker as the strands parted and he face split in two.

Watched his other self-smile in pride as his point of view divided.

“Seems like it goes slower each time” He said to himself.

“You don’t like spending time with me?” he laughed, half wishing he could still have his twin next to him like this.

“Fuck off Joe” he knocked his own head, much to his own chagrin.

He could already feel the division spready past their necks and double their chests. Even still a tension lay in his cells. More mass waiting for a bit to begin churning out another of him.

“When can we go back to the devolution resort?” I asked him.

“They have an opening next month,” he said. “But we could always try this home regressor.” He pulled out two bottles of serum that he’d purchased before we left.

“Worth a shot,” I said, grabbing one and taking a swing. Immediately, I felt the familiar devolution effect: my mind clouding over, my body hunching forward, hair racing over my body.

“So hot,” he said as I knuckle-walked over to him.

“You gonna take it too?” I grunted. 

He grinned. “No dude,” he said. “This time, you’re going to be my pet monkey man.”

“Huh?” I grunted. I didn’t get it. I didn’t care. My ears were rounding out, sticking out from my head, my dick was plumping in my boxers, and my toes were stretching and growing more flexible. I scratched my head in confusion and he laughed.

“That’s it, ape boy,” he said. “Now show me that furry ass of yours.”

Liam scratched his hand.

He wanted to describe the feeling as itchy, but it was too electrical in sensation, like it was charged. Every cell crackling and almost raring to pop, muscles tensing and untensing over and over. Like he could punch or kick through concrete on that high and watch the rock crumble before his eyes.

God it felt incredible.

It came with the strangest of disappointments. That he lost a coin flip that most would consider a win. That he stayed just Liam

The Liam standing where the jackhammer split his arm and not the Liam where his disembodied arm had fallen.

The other him, the copy, stilled writhed in the ecstasy of his existence. Transported as a carbon copy of the original, except doused from head to toe with the same power that charged the original’s arm.

He tried to temper his FOMO as he watched his latest of his counterparts pick himself up, the guy’s grin wide yet slightly dazed. They always came out slightly confused. Stuck between the realization that they were no longer the original Liam and absolutely high off the sensation of their brain charged to infinity with a load of pure atomic energy.

“God it feels so fucking good” the copy said, just as they all usually did, trying to convey it to the single version of them who would never feel it.

Liam gripped the guy’s hand, his hand, tight and pulled his fresh self into an embrace. As if he could absorbed the guy back into him and feel the charge they were all slave to.

It was an engine at the heart of the facility that was the real source of their addiction.

A Reconstituter was the simple term for it and it functioned like you’d expect. Supply it enough biomass and it could instantly fix whatever injury a hapless employee sustained when they fell, cut, stabbed or otherwise maimed themselves. No OSHA needed in a workplace like that.

Of course, Liam’s was an overreactive knockoff of the name brand, so the first time he’d gotten a finger sliced off by a buzzsaw, it healed him. A whole functional finger, fresh and electric on his hand. Then it healed his finger five feet away.

A bolt of lightning and the sliced end of the finger glowed, particles in the air charging and magnetizing towards it. Seconds later and there panting was a fully identical copy of Liam, naked and manically grinning to himself, completely high off the sensation. At least until the copy’s smile dimmed as his eyes locked with Liam’s.

They’d done the song and dance of clones. Panic, argue, then panic and argue more. Try to kill each other. Accidentally spawn another Liam when the original tried stabbed to deep and lobbed off his copy’s arm. Get instantly overpowered by two copies of himself and find themselves all hard at the feeling of their warm bodies wrestling on the factory floor. Really take a chance and begin sloppily making out with the first copy, even as the second cut off his hand with a rusty axe. Happy get throat fucked in two bodies by his doubles, all coming to a single dangerous realization.

You know, the usual.

Now it was just part of the job.

Not something that Liam necessarily should look forward to. They were still trying to dodge notice on the whole human duplication thing, so they tried to keep it a rounding error on his company’s end. Enjoy finally having a crew and a pack of best mates all under the corporate radar.

Still, he was the happiest he’d ever been, isolated in a desolate factory a hundred miles from civilization. Helped that no one was around to stop him, except for himself.

Liam really did try to keep cloning himself to real workplace injuries. It was more of a resolution unfortunately, given Liam’s unfortunate combination of developing masochism and sadism combined with a machine that took out all risk from his (their) sexcapades. Especially when reconstituting on either end of the equation led to even more overpowering electric vigor to burn through.

Liam was at about 15 of him by now and that was with caution.

It had been 4 weeks of care and building tension.

It was 4 pm on a Friday though and the look burning into him by his brand new doppelganger promised a slew of bad decisions to come. They’d likely be up to 18 by the time the guy’s freshly cloned energy ran out. Then they’d be fucked with 3 more copies on a weekend and all the time to indulge.

Someone had definitely spiked the jungle juice.

Not that any of the Samis particularly minded.

One moment the frat party had been going strong, if not a little frustrating. Rush week meant freshmen and freshmen meant appeasing a bunch of shitty nineteen year old know it alls. Cocky brats who believed they could be his brother with insecurity reeked casual bro talk, as if he would remember them in a day after they embarrassed themselves with their scrawny bodies chocked full of too much alcohol.

Rush week was never one of good first impressions, so it had been odd when Sami had found the blond little prick in front of him shoot a joke he actually liked. A joke Sami could swear he was just about to make.

He found himself liking the guy, the dim light disguising how the blond guy’s hair retreated into his skull slowly, trimming itself into Sami’s perfect short cut. The guy’s own respectable height raising just slightly as his arms gained 3 years of on and off gym work, Sami’s routine sinking into him.

Sami could blame being slightly tispy for not realizing he was talking to himself until a second copy of his handsome face joined the conversation. He was dressed in slightly too tight shorts and a t-shirt, as opposed to the dress shirt combo Helped that the second guy already seemed just a little appropriately concerned as he brought up to his identical selves the very odd matter at hand.

“Sup fellas, are you guy me” he asked, drunker and somehow more aware.

“Fucking weird” Sami and the once blond guy said in unison, before turning to each other with impressed grins. Twin realization, as they gawked and then inspected each other.

New Sami, well Sami who was now in the Blond prick’s place, stood in all the guy’s clothes. Pajama bottoms, a tank lop and some nice sneaks.

“Fucking sick” Sami who had been blond prick said to himself, now realizing he could feel the blond guy inside him. Deep down and enjoying this mysterious transformation.  It felt good having the guy there, finally having imposed himself on one of the new undergrads, shaped them into the man they should be.

Typically that would take training the little shits to be respectable partners, but this was quicker.

Sami had watched a video long ago about leadership, cloning yourself into your followers. It turns out to be very easy once you identify that the source of it was the jungle juice some of his less intelligent frat brothers had crafted, a gruesome mix to torment themselves and the freshmen with.

Considering two Sami’s wore Markus’s favorite sweatshirt and Kyle’s old Air Jordans, it was safe to say hazing would at least be more intelligent from now on. They demonstrated it too, quickly snaring confused untransformed stragglers into a deal with twin devils, all their roguish grins and bisexual game for the price of a cup of the Sami juice.

Hell the original took them up on their offer, downing a couple cups as an interchangeable crowd of him egged him on. Didn’t do much besides make him feel more him, although that was just partying.

By the end of the hour it was a party of carbon copies, Samis in all manners of clothing. The original generously dealing out his closet and his brother’s closets to the poor Samis who used to be women or dressed in clothing unsuitable for a six foot man. One pulled on Dylan’s vans as another dressed up as Joe in all his farm worker regalia.

They were having a lot of fun with it. Samis taking off and putting on clothes, rummaging through the respective rooms in drunken attempts at restructuring it all for more than a 100 of their duplicated selves. Many Samis pulling off in pairs or more, before coming back exhausted and sweaty. Original Sami himself getting a couple rounds in at seeing himself from the back.

Hell it would’ve been a full-blown orgy had the cops not arrived.

A rogue witch causing mischief they said, not noise complaints. They’d tracked the guy here, they said. They kept saying fun stuff like that until they saw that the triplets answering the door were actually a number of identical brothers much higher than three.

Long story short, they were now crowding the hospital waiting room, waiting on magical assistance. Not that any of them wanted to be there, waiting on help that Sami was pretty sure none of them needed.

The school he was sure could lose a large number of dumbasses for a hundred 4.0 go getters like him. The ambition to do anything would easily filter into whatever personal dream was inside each of the people trapped underneath all that improved Saminess. Professors would get used to his face crowding the halls, and with a hundred high achieving advertisements like him walking around, he was sure the leftover jungle juice would be put to fair use.

Not that they couldn’t make more, considering one Sami, who was now solidly in hiding elsewhere, had all that witch’s knowledge underneath him. They could make the potion and more easily. Make their new fleet of brothers more permanent than any dispelling magic could do.

“You mean you don’t know?”

As a tf smut author and consumer for more than a decade now, yeah, huge difference between a thought and an action.