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5 min

The collector, the cocks and the cloned

Cloning your own cock is a precise art, not to mention a turn-on

Credit: Angelina Cantada

I never expected a fellow phallus worshipper to request a copy of my cock when I took my first tentative steps into the world of online porn.

Back then, I spent a lot of time bathed in the glow of my CRT monitor, dazzled by the speed of my state-of-the-art dial-up connection. In the privacy of my off-campus bedroom — door locked, cock in hand — amazing and almost limitless images of gay sex flickered and quivered before my eyes. It was fantastic and exciting. I had total and complete anonymity in the exploding world of my own gay liberation.

I quickly began developing the online version of myself and ventured into a totally different world of interaction. I could finally talk to other gay guys, and see them, and even meet them.

Fast-forward to today. I don’t lock my bedroom door anymore or worry about getting caught with porn or chatting with other guys on phallic-worship sites. The phallus is, of course, an ongoing appreciation of mine, and through the anonymous nature of the net, guys like me are connecting with each other easily and sharing images of cocks of all shapes and sizes. It was through one of these connections that my online self received a very flattering request from another cock aficionado.

In a completely serious message, the aficionado asked if I’d be willing to make him a copy of my cock.

Now, I have a pretty decent phallus, but I highly doubt anyone would ever request a copy in person. Isn’t the internet great?

The Collector contacted me through a website where we both have profiles for our cocks. I’m not shy to admit it: my cock has its own online profile. Still, it took me a while to decide if I really wanted to clone my cock — not to mention relinquish said clone to a stranger.

I was particularly concerned about protecting my anonymity. This is a copy of my dick after all, which is a fairly personal thing, regardless of how many photos of it have already been posted or distributed.

I realized I didn’t need to know who would be receiving my clone, what they would do with it or who they would show it to.

Nor do I want the Collector to have any idea who I am, though there is a real possibility he could figure it out. We live in the same province after all, and it’s a small gay world. He might even be reading this story.

It was the hint of a potential threat that, in the end, made the request all the more dangerous and erotic. Seems the tenuous state of my own anonymity is actually a total turn-on for me.

I posed some qualifying questions to make sure the Collector’s request was real. He came through with photos of his entire collection of personally handmade dildos of different cocks from around the world. And what a collection! He has some fantastic cocks. They were standing up in rows on a table like good little soldiers ready for action.

So the Collector’s request seemed sincere, and I was excited to have my cock enter his collection. He then asked if I had any friends who would be willing to make him a copy as well, which was really smart, because of course I do. I asked my friend Steven what he thought about making cock copies. Although Steven and I are platonic friends, we have discussed our cocks in great detail, and we have seen each other naked several times. Steven has a marvelous cock, and he knows it.

With a big mischievous grin, he instantly agreed to make dildos with me. The Collector was pleased and ordered us the kits from a company in California. Four dildo kits in all, because one condition I had was that Steven and I would each get to keep a copy. Who wouldn’t want a souvenir? 

The kits finally arrived in the mail, and after watching a YouTube clip about the process (made by two awkward-looking straight guys) we set a date to make our copies.

The idea was to make them at the same time, which meant some help would be required. Our mutual friend Keith was invited to assist us with the kits and to take a few photos. The guys stopped by my place after work, Steven with his favourite porn DVD in hand. We cracked a bottle of wine to take the edge off. We were pretty keyed up and excited, and at the same time totally bashful, which is not like either of us.

After some chitchat and looking over the dildo kits, we decided to get down to business. I thoroughly enjoyed watching Steven rub his cock through his jeans, making his uncut cock’s obvious size visible. I hadn’t actually seen him aroused before. I was doing the same. We hesitated for a moment.

I put the porn on, and both of us just stood there looking at it. There really is no icebreaker for this sort of thing, so I smiled and said, “It’s now or never.” I tossed off my pants and pulled Steven’s jeans down to his ankles.

With the porn on and our dicks out, I had no trouble getting as hard as a rock. Steven’s youthful boast that he could pop a woody under any circumstances was being seriously challenged, much to his surprise. I lent him a hand, and he lent me one, too. What’s a bit of mutual masturbation between friends? It didn’t work for him. But it was working for me.

Keith finally had the first components of the kit ready in the kitchen, so I got started. I felt a little like a guinea pig, but definitely a willing one.

I measured the plastic tube to the right length and cut it to size, all the while keeping my eye on the porno and my hand on my member.

Since there is a chemical reaction in the moulding material, timing is crucial. You have to slip your cock into the tube with the mixture within two minutes of mixing the moulding material, which became a sort of ballet of timing. I gave the go-ahead, and Keith poured the body-temperature water in and mixed furiously.

There is nothing graceful about sticking your dick into a plastic tube filled with warm grey goo. Some spilled out onto the kitchen floor and formed little rubber pancakes.

I held the mould there for another two minutes, legs spread slightly apart and my cock bent downward to prevent more of the mould material from spilling out. Talk about pressure to perform. At least the grey goo was at body temperature, and oddly comforting.

Finally, with caution and curiosity, I extricated my penis from the tube. It worked surprisingly well! And I was still pretty hard, so after some coaxing I made my second mould.

The guys left after a while, and Steven took a kit home to make his dildo later. That night, I mixed the rubber compound for both of my moulds and poured them. Twenty-four hours later, it was time for the big reveal. My dildos turned out remarkably well and highly detailed. I think the Collector will be pleased.

Steven’s cock copy turned out very nicely, too. And yes, these are totally functional dildos complete with vibrators, although the rubbery plastic is harder in comparison to expensive retail versions, which are soft on the outside.

So now a copy of my cock is out there somewhere, making someone happy. I have reached out beyond the safe boundaries of a carefully constructed virtual version of myself and my cock. I don’t know where the clone is, and I don’t know who will be looking at it, touching it or… using it. Those are details I don’t need to know, but it’s an exciting feeling to have sent a clone of my dick out into the world. I would do it again, too.