Gwen was panting heavily. Reversing the changes to so many clones in such little time was a stressful experience. At least all of her clones where on the same page. They all efficiently lined up to have their Gwen-lactating breasts restored to normal.
The original Gwen was the last to change. She shot each boob with the Breastinator. She felt the bones that had been forming inside boobs of her dissolve. Then, they shrunk back to previously enhanced, D-cup size.
"What the hell just happened!?" Gwen exclaimed to herself. She grabbed the shoulder of a random clone. "You, tell me what happened to you."
"Huh? Oh, you must be the original me," the Gwen-clone responded. "I- no- WE share all of your memories. The last thing that I, personally, remember whan I was still me was shooting my chest with that toy-gun you've got in your hands. Then, all of a sudden, my head had emerged from your tit and I was looking up at what had been my own face. After that, the other clone and I teased you while you were still recovering. Then, just as suddenly as before, my head was poking out of another nipple. I rushed outside with the rest of us. Then, for the third time, my head was sticking out if a nipple. After that, I felt my own breasts began to grow. It was a strange thing to experience for the first time. I was relieved that I was the one doing the 'lactating' rather than being 'lactated.' After I finished that, I recognized that things where getting out of hand. I already knew what you were planning on doing before you had even done it. So, I lined up with the rest of the clones and let you fix me."
"Wow," the original Gwen gasped. "Very well spoken, me."
"Thanks me," the interrogated Gwen responded. "We both took the same public speaking class, remember?"
"Yeah," the Original replied, her voice trailing off. Her mind was deep in thought. It would seem as thougheach copy shared the memories of their 'lactator' until the moment the 'lactation' process began. "Wait, if you have all of memories, does that mean we share the same-
"The same personality, yes," a different Gwen interrupted her. "We all share the same memories, genetics, and personality. It's just us clones have a different perspective-
"EXCUSE ME!" an angry, female voice cut-in from across the street. It wasn't a Gwen's voice. It was her neighbor's voice and she was pissed. "What is the meaning of this!? Why are all of you naked on the front lawn?"
"I- uh. We- uh." The closest Gwen-clone stuttered.
"Nevermind, I don't want to hear it. Just get you naked selves off of the street before I call the police AND your parents."
Gwen stared dumbfounded at her fuming neighbor. She wasn't surprised at all by the nearly one hundred Gwens. Rather, she was more concerned by their own nakedness. Gwen stared at the Breastinator that was still in her hand. She could deliver devine punishment onto the poor woman for speaking out of turn. But, Gwen decided against it. She had other plans for it.
Gwen turned to enter the house and was floored again. Her house was HUGE! It looked more like an apartment complex rather than the small, suburban home that it had been before.
A handful of Gwens poked their heads out the from door. "Come here, girls. You all have to see this." One of them said.
"Sorry, Mrs. Geiger," the clone apologized. The clone then entered behind the rest of her 'sisters.'
Inside, most of house remained unchanged. However, things were drastically different once she arrived at the bedroom halfway. Instead, there was now a staircase that stretched for several stories. On each floor, there were several bedrooms. Each one had two bunk-beds and four copies of Gwen's wardrobe. After ascending five floors with four identical bedrooms, each. She reached the top floor. Up here was her parent's bedroom as well as her old bedroom. It was completely unchanged and messy as before.
"Dibs," one clone called out from behind the Original.
"No, you can't do that. This is MY bedroom!" The Original retorted.
"It's my bedroom, too," the same clone refuted.
"Actually, it my bedroom," a third clone chimed in.
"No, it's mine."
"No, it's MINE!"
"She's the original Gwen. Let her sleep in our old bedroom!"
"No way. I'm not sleeping on a dinky, little, twin mattress while she gets to sleep in comfort. I want MY bed!"
The Original just shook her head. While all of her clones shared the same memories, they all felt equally entitled to Gwen's old life. Who could blame them?
As the arguing continued, the original Gwen was fiddling with the Breastinator and coming up with a solution.