It was the first time I looked at myself in the mirror that day. Not because of avoidance but because I was stressed, sprinting around like a mad queer with an unfortunate case of swamp ass, attempting to figure out some last-minute birthday gift for a friend.
If I’m honest, that stress was my bad. Waiting till the last minute for gifts tends to be my unfortunate M.O. On the other hand, it’s when I’m most creative ✨. And that is exactly what landed me butt naked in front of my bathroom mirror with an arsenal of sex toys, lube, porn, and enough kitchenware to start a mini baking series on TikTok.
In this mad scramble to find an appropriate gift to continue a spotty gift-giving legacy, I remembered my conversation in Wisconsin with a guy I dated. Aside from having the most beautiful penis I have ever seen, he told me the story of when he decided college was not for him and, as a parting gift, made a clone of his iconic dick for five close friends. To no surprise, his memorialized dick was a huge hit. So, I took to the internet searching for this magical dick-cloning kit and found a local sex shop that sold Clone-A-Willy kits.
Cloning kit in hand, I rode my scooter back home and listened to a few online videos and reviews on perfecting this adventure in cloning my dick. Each person had their take on what worked for them, one user mentioning best practice was using a whisk for what exactly, I would find out soon.
Back home, I pulled out the stash of my favorite sexy time things: a fleshlight (it’s crucial to stay hard during the process, as told by the internet and included directions), some *essential* oils (I’ll leave your imagination do the work here), my favorite lube, and, again, mixing bowls, measuring cups, and a thermometer. The kit includes a lot of this, even a thermometer. But against the time constraint for my friend’s birthday and knowing the kit takes about 24 hours till completion, I needed to get this right the first time. I used my digital thermometer. Otherwise, it would be curtains for my ass and a regretfully late birthday gift for my friend—sad face.
Being the uber-organized human that I am, I set the materials in sequential order. With my roommate at work, tools and materials laid out for a grand time measuring, mixing, pouring, and edging, I took quick note of the hilarious scene happening in my decently sized bathroom for a Chicago apartment. Headphones in, my porn of choice played while the timer ticked away. I let the star of this soon-to-be comedy show rest in the fleshlight while mixing the exactly 90℉ water and the molding powder in a glass bowl.
I’m going to come out and say that mixing with a fork is not the way to go, my friend. The mixture looked chunky, but I continued mixing as the queued playlist switched to the next video after a very spirited climax. Then, the timer was up; it was time to pour this mixture into the tube, so I measured out half an inch longer than my erection, as directed. I made sure the star of this cloning show was at his hardest best state and stuck it in the tube.
I won’t lie and say it felt like the weirdest warm fleshlight I ever felt. It was very pleasant. Almost too pleasant, which took mad willpower not to ruin the mold, but there I was. It was happening. I let the video play as I waited two full minutes before carefully removing my dick from the mold. The directions tell you to make sure your buddy doesn’t press against the plastic tube. What didn’t I do? Make sure my dick wasn’t pressed against the plastic tube. Sigh.
I swore a lot for about a minute. Not loudly, I didn’t want to scare my cat, but I was also face-palming hard while the other hand held the ruined mold. Rolling through more reviews, still naked and standing in my kitchen with no clue how to fix this, some folks had the same problems. The Empire Labs team is great about sending new materials to folks who oopsy the first go, but I didn’t have shipping time. I had a little over 24 hours to make this gift, and by goddess, I would get it right.
Throwing on a comfy sweatshirt and finagling my unignorable erection into jeans, I ran to a closer sex shop in search of another kit. They had an army of them on a giant pedestal, like some Indiana Jones and the Crystal Cock just begging shoppers to give it a go. I snagged the skin tone I wanted and left. Before running home, I noticed a kitchenware store right next door. The review of the guy about the whisk popped in my head. Seeing how the fork didn’t help in the first go at cloning my willy, I snuck in and asked the kind older man to direct me to his finest selection of whisks. Thankfully, a whisk doesn’t egg on questions on why you’re using it, the same way no one asks why you’re buying condoms or Tupperware.
Whisk and second Clone-A-Willy kit in my backpack, I sped home and got back into the action. This round, I was a bit wiser. I’ve lived through the (brief) cloning kit apocalypse, and I was ready to get in the mood for the best-cloned willy present ever. Thankfully, I followed the expertise of strangers on the internet, and the whisk worked wonders with the molding mixture. Also, the second round is SO much easier than the first. By that point, you’re an expert!
Cloning my dick was the best science experiment I never knew I needed. My friend didn’t realize he needed it, either, and that was probably the best part of that birthday present. I can’t wait to procrastinate for next year’s birthday present! Now, how can I clone this ass 🤔
About the author:
V.S. is a queer author based in Chicago, working for a tech company by day and writing fiction when they should be working. They self-published their memoir back in 2018 and lend their slew of weird, wide-ranged, and useful talents in both digital and literary spaces.
Learn more about V.S. here!