The shadows of time in the tank recede, and your nerves are alive. Your muscles feel ready, eager, but you don't feel rested exactly. Your adrenaline is already flowing. Your fingers have a slight tremor as they press the release, opening the tank. 

Your clone is already out of their side of the tank. Brand new to the world and squinting against the harsh electric light here. You shield your eyes a bit as well. You two consider each other, thoughtful for a moment. You always wonder what the clones are thinking in these moments. Faced with you, the original, the source of being that they were sculpted from. Do they understand it? Do they know why they're here? They must. They have a form of your memories, as you understand it. You wonder if they think they themselves are the original. The notion gives you a sense of slow-growing vertigo that you have to press aside. 

You aren't perfectly identical today. Your clone seems to feel the same edginess that you do. It's shifting its weight from one leg to the other, grinding the ball of one foot into the floor and creating a nervous contrapposto. You watch, clenching and unclenching your hands, wondering what Julia's game today is.

You don't have to wonder long, because Julia's already approaching. She's got her hair down and she's wearing a flowing pale dress and she's perfect. She radiates happiness and joy. Her arms go wide, welcoming you both, and the light gleams on the edge of the scalpel in her right hand. 

"I hope you slept well," she says, looking from you to the clone and back again. "I couldn't bear to wait any longer. I've missed you." Both of you make a sound, a noise that's all emphatic grunting and no intelligible words at all. A tank-dumb utterance of agreement. You've missed her desperately, even if you weren't conscious enough to know it as it happened.

She smiles and steps towards you first, and you bask in her glow. "Hello, baby," she says softly, like it's something private only for her and you. She touches your cheek with soft affection, and then she pushes the blade into your arm.

It's not a wide slash, but it's deep. Just above the ditch of your elbow, into the meat of your bicep. You gasp, pain taking a few seconds to arrive, and you watch wide-eyed as blood spills out from the hole. Julia coos.

"Don't look at it," she purrs at you. "Focus on me." And you do. Of course you do. You turn all of your attention to her. You don't want to ignore the pain, because it's from Julia, and that makes it a gift. You cherish everything from Julia. But gazing at her lets you stay in the moment more correctly. You take a breath and settle yourself, the sharp burning in your arm turning into a buzzing sting. "That's it. That's right," she praises. You can't see your clone - all you can see is Julia. All you need to see is Julia. You can hear their breathing, though, fast and heavy. Just like yours.

Julia flicks the scalpel into your other arm.

Shallower, this time, but a longer cut. Across your opposite forearm. You can't help but cry out, a tight yelp of pain. She shushes you again, stroking your hair and caressing your face. Both arms bleeding now, you again make yourself sink into calm. Julia watches, and the affection in her face makes it easy. You'd do anything to make her that happy.

"Come here," she beckons, and she steps back. She sits down, her knees apart, providing a space for you to nestle into. Down onto your knees you go. You can hear your clone moving up behind you as well, but you don't pay them any mind. They aren't important right now. They aren't part of this. You and Julia are the only people in the world, as it should be. As it ever has been.

She glances the blade across one of your ears, catching there for a moment and twisting it free. The pain is hot and ragged, and before you can even fully react she's cut again. Moved her hand down and slid the blade in just above your collarbone. Deep. She holds it there, and you can feel every tremor of her hand through the bit of metal that connects you. She shivers through a deep, sensual breath, eyes fluttering. She pulls the scalpel free and the warmth of your blood is everywhere over there now.

"I needed this," Julia says, and it's not really to you. She's just speaking now. "I couldn't stop thinking of this image. You, poked full of holes, leaking slowly for me..." She prods the blade in again, near your wrist. "...until everything is all..." Gently, shallowly across your ribs. "...drained away." Pressed deep into your thigh, and held there. Watching. You can't catch your breath, no matter how much you stare into her eyes. Part of that is the pain, and the fear, but part of it is Julia's own energy. She's not a calming presence now. She's thrilled. Alive. Hungry. All of these things to a degree that leaves her unable to be still.

"Here," she says, and you leak even more as she plucks the scalpel from your leg. "Something to focus on." She sits back, pulling up her dress. She's bare beneath it, and her cock is already straining with need. You aren't sure if you could lift both arms correctly right now, so you simply lower your head and let your mouth do the work. You kiss her shaft, down at the very base, and slowly work your way up to the head. Leaning forward like this makes you dizzy, and that feeling grows worse as Julia makes occasional cuts to whatever part of you she can reach. It's almost lazy, the casual way she caresses into your skin, opening you in a new place, inviting you to flow for her. To empty yourself for her.

It's too much. All of her ministrations, the pain, the sheer magnificent presence of her cock on your tongue. The dizziness becomes too much to bear, and you slide down into a soft space of emptiness.

Julia's voice. Too faint to hear. Almost like being in the tank, but... that's not where you are, is it? That feels almost like this, but not exactly. You try and focus, and you fail. Darkness takes you.

Something hits you hard on the back of the head, jarring you. You groan, managing to get your eyes half-opened. Again, a blow to the back of the head. A slap? Startled, you wake up. Julia's grinning at you, delighted. "Not so fast," she says, cocking the bloody scalpel back and forth like a wagging finger. "You're doing good, but you aren't done. Stay with me. Hang on as long as you can, now." Again the scalpel bites. It's hard to keep track now of where it's cut. Too many places. Some oozing slowly and others much more quickly. You can see the stains of yourself in your periphery. You try to push yourself, to keep pleasuring Julia, but your body is betraying you. You're so weak.

A hand grabs the back of your neck, roughly. Julia? No. She's sitting back now, exhaling with contentment, eyes up at the ceiling. No, it's the clone. Providing support. Not really part of this interaction, just there to keep you going. They run a hand into your hair and guide your head along Julia's cock. You feel a wave of pity for them, having to be so close to this but not able to actually participate. It's only in the last moments that you wonder if Julia could have made a mistake. You're the original, after all. Did she lose track of who was who? Did she overdo it with the cuts and not realize you were too far gone? You hope it was that. You hope that she was so enamored with the experience that she couldn't pull back. That she's killing you out of reckless abandon from how well you've given yourself to her.

That's a nice thought.

As the last bits leak out of you, the clone holds you in just the right spot, and Julia's cock begins to tense and throb, and that second before her release is the last one you have.

THE END.