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The Replacements by Diane Smith

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“In the year 2525, If man is still alive. If woman can survive. They may find……”

I looked out the balcony of my 215th floor condo watching the clouds pass by below me. A hover craft delivering, hung in the air just 3 floors below and to my right. Probably delivering pizza pills. I hate those things. Drop a pill in a pan add water and microwave. Walla…instant pizza. I would rather have had the real pizzas they had back in the early 2000’s. I turned back into the room sipping my wine. Thank God some things still remained the same.


The wall across from me became a huge TV screen floor to ceiling.


The one large screen began dividing into smaller screens of different stations each with a number in the corner. When it got to 10 squares,

“Stop…Number 10…”

The news station reappeared as one big screen again. The news person giving the weather for the ground below. It looked fairly decent. I might go down and take a walk rather than the 1 acre park like setting on the roof 20 stories above me.

Its April 7 2525. In 12 days I’m going to be 58 yrs old. I’m 5’3″ 130 lbs 36C breasts and dark brown semi curly hair to mid back. Right now its pulled back in a long ponytail. I’m wearing a short sleeve black lacquer zippered front top that shows my midriff. Black lacquer tight shorts and calf high black leather boots.

There is a knock at the door. Holding my wine glass I open the door to the shock of my life. I knew one day this would come but making it to almost 58 yrs I hadn’t thought about it in a long time. I’m staring straight at myself. A carbon copy, a doppelganger. From the long ponytail to the black leather calf high boots. For what seemed like eternity we looked at one another. Instinct finally told me to close the door. I dropped the wine glass shattering it on the floor and pushed the door only to have her lean against it pushing to open it.

A Replacement. Now. Here at my door. The replacements are your exact double. The only difference is, they live forever, you don’t. Common people don’t know where they come from. The Government? Scientists? Aliens. They just appear. everyone has a replacement from the time you turn 20. They just come at any time after that. Any time. I’ve seen an 80 yr old man battling with his replacement then just give in. Only one of you can exist. Either you or your double. I’ve also seen a 20 yr old girl fight tooth and nail against her double wanting so bad to be able to raise a family. Replacements cant reproduce. They live forever at whatever age that they replace you. They cannot die from natural causes, heart failure, cancer, virus. They can be killed. they do bleed and just like us humans they heal. Once your replacement appears its either kill or be killed. And no one can help you. Once you have met your double any other person that touches the double will get a 220 volt shock and instant death. Many a human has died because the double and the human have fought and accidently collided with humans that just couldn’t get out of the way. You can shoot your double, stab it even blow it up but they appear out of nowhere you would have to be armed or ready for it 24-7 every minute of every day. If you kill your double and win, you go on with your life for however long that may be. Another double will never appear. If however your double wins out. You/your double will live forever till the end of time at whatever age you died at.

My double reached in and caught my wrist tight. The forearm covered with the same dark hairs as mine. They have no superhuman strength. They are just like you. The door moved in ward.

“No you bitch…”

It opened more and she slipped in. The long brown hair in a ponytail. The same black lacquered shorts and zippered top. the obvious same 36C breasts pushing under that tight top. I grabbed a vase off the shelf and hurled it at her. She ducked and the vase shattered against the wall. The new condos are totally sound proof to prevent neighbors from hearing unwanted noises. Not that anyone could do anything to help me. I don’t own a gun and I definitely don’t have any explosives. There are knives in the kitchen and I have my hands and feet.

After ducking the thrown vase she rushed me. I caught her and we went against the wall TV. Instinct made me fight like a woman and I grabbed her hair. She grabbed mine and we pulled.


So I know she has feelings. My fingers worked on the ties and rubber band holding the ponytail as her fingers did mine. We rolled one another along the TV till the hair came out then we really went into a hair pull. Slightly bent forward we moved each other about the room shaking heads back and forth dropping clumps of torn out hair to the floor. I let go with one hand and swung my fist up and under her connecting with her face. I’m not a fist fighter I’m more of a cat fighter. She swung back catching me in the ribs.

“Ohhhhh shit….you bitch you”….

“Your the bitch Diane”….

Again we punched hitting faces breasts and bodies. Our stumbling crashed us into a table and lamp knocking the lamp over and breaking it. From there we took each other onto the huge sofa. I got a hand in her face digging my nails in drawing blood from one long scratch. She grabbed my arm pushing it out over the edge of the sofa. I let go of her hair and got my arm around her neck and heaved rolling us off the sofa to the floor. Our booted legs kicked as we wrestled and rolled across the wide room one a top the other. Hitting the far wall she got on top of me and got her hands on my throat choking me. I tore at her arms with my nails raking out some of the dark hairs and even drawing blood. My hands rode up her arms to her throat grabbing and squeezing. Our faces turned red. I let go one hand and grabbed her breast squeezing feeling the large mound under the lacquer top. I grabbed the zipper ring pulling it down exposing her massive 36C’s and dug my nails into one of them.

She let out a cry and I rolled her over. I punched her in the mouth hard splitting her lip. We got our hands from each other’s throats and went into one another’s long hair pulling. Picking each other up breathing heavy panting out of breath. Yanking and tugging each other’s hair we turned around and around whipping each other by the hair. Clumps of her hair came out in my hands. I dropped them to the floor and dug back in for more. We crashed into a wall knocking a shelf off which broke smashing the flowered vase on it.

Turning and pulling we went into he kitchen and onto the small two chair table which turned over under our combined weight knocking over the chairs and everything on the table flowers vase with water and dishes. Wrestling in the small nook cursing at each other. It was so strange fighting myself and calling myself cunt and whore and bitch and having me call it back to me. I got my feet into her and shoved sending her backwards onto the floor. She scrambled up looking and went to the counter picking up a large kitchen knife. She advanced on me slowly. I backed into the nook and picked up one of the overturned chairs holding it out in front of me. She slashed with the knife hitting the chair as I shoved it at her now backing her up. I looked at her eyes and noticed there was nothing there. I mean no show of hate or concern or even worry. They were like dolls eyes. Black and staring. It gave me the willies.

She slashed. I forced the chair at her till I pinned her against the fridge with the chair. I dropped it and grabbed her wrist with one hand and her hair with the other. Her free hand caught my wrist in her hair. Her thumb nail dug into the underside of my wrist. I winced and leaned into her. Her nail punctured my skin drawing blood which ran down my arm.

Her knee came up hard into my cunt. I winced and let up. She did it again and I cried out. I let go of her hair and grabbed her knife wrist with both my hands. I don’t really know how to fight but that was a bad move. With both my hands on her knife wrist she pulled so my back was to her and her free arm went around my neck. She tightened it. I gagged. She choked me hard. I could hear the stereo coming over the condos, sound system. Carless Whisper by some band called George Michal.

The knife came closer and closer till it finally pierced my lacquered top into my chest just below my massive tit.

I elbowed her hard in the ribs hearing her grunt. Another jab and she let go of her choke hold. I spun around and kicked her right in the cunt. She dropped the knife. I backed up and pulled open my top looking at the knife wound. It was bleeding profusely.

You fucking bitch you…

I charged her and we grabbed hair again going back against the fridge. Yanking and pulling we took each other down on the floor. Blood covered bare breasts now pressed together rubbing and grinding. She locked our legs together tight. High leather boots rubbing tight leg over leg.

I was totally pissed now and afraid.

“You fucking cunt die….”

“No Diane you will die….”

Over and over we rolled in the kitchen blooding the tiled floor. Hugging each other tight punching when we could. We were both fatigued breathing heavy panting loudly. I got on top of her. Our bodies pressed tight together both of us looking for good holds. She grabbed my hair pulled me off her and got on top and banged my head on the tiled floor several times. I swung a fist hitting her in the eye. She rolled over and I got back on top of her. I got her hands and pushed them out to the sides . My legs spread hers out wide. Our pussies pressed together. I pressed hard into her as she heaved and struggled to get me off her. I think I’ve had more girls in this position then guys during my 57 yrs.. Some because we were fighting some because we weren’t fighting.

I rubbed my cunt into hers. As she struggled her cunt rubbed against mine. She managed to wrestle me over. I continued to rub into her and now pressed my blood covered breasts into hers. If she was in fact my exact double I knew what this was doing to her. I got her over getting back on top of her. We both were losing a lot of blood. I let go of her hands and we wrapped our arms around each other tight. Our legs entwined we rolled one another over the other way. I began gyrating my hips into hers and felt her respond doing the same. as we wrestled I began bigger and harder gyrations rubbing our cunts together. Then I heard her moan. I rolled us over several times and there it was. The knife right within reach. I grabbed it and she caught my wrist. I kept up the grinding of pussy to pussy making bigger circles rubbing hard. her head went back and she moaned louder than before. I got on top of her and pressed the knife down. She held my wrist straining. Our pussies rocked hard slamming into each other.

“Come on you bitch cum”

She stiffened then started convulsing. In those seconds that she let flow whatever womanly juices are in side of her I plunged the knife into her breast. It gave a new meaning to the term..”Go fuck yourself”

When she stopped moving I rolled off her. I knew what was going to happen I’ve seen it before with other doubles. For whatever reason when our contact ends, somehow a team is alerted. A team. I don’t know if there scientist, Government officials or aliens but they come. Each replacement is embedded with a tag under their skin on their arm. It took only a short time before they arrived. they must have been close by ever since my Replacement and I had contact. The first thing they did was ran a scanner over her arm to make sure who it was, either me or the Replacement. Then they took her away in a body bag. If it had been me, I would have been left there for friends or family to do whatever they would with my body. where they take the replacements I have no idea. All I know is mine is gone. She will never return and I will be able to celebrate my 58th birthday in a few days and live the rest of my life, however long that may be.

The End

Thank you for reading! For more of Diane Smith’s Stories: Click Here!

1 thought on “The Replacements by Diane Smith

  1. Giannis says:

    Interesting. Well written. Hot enough, considering its plot.
    I like it !


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