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Skin tight

By Dream Big

Description Mark has big brains, but a big body? Not so much. So he decides to bend his gray matter toward a high-tech A.I.-assisted body suit that will help him achieve the kind of body he dreams about.

AddedApril 2019
Updated11 May 2019



9 Parts tap bar to showtap bar to hide

Part 1

Mark Prentice, boy genius.

That’s what the article said when I was seventeen. Pretty much guaranteed a rough ride at that point.

It’s bad enough being smart sometimes—public schools in the U.S. tend to punish that in many ways, either systematically or through inaction, like when the jocks bully the nerds. Hard to believe that kind of crap still goes down, in an age where many of our public heroes are tech geniuses and nerds earn billions.

And don’t get me wrong, sometimes smart kids are only smart in one direction, if you take my meaning. All that brainpower tends to be focused on one subject or area of interest, and that focus comes at a cost. Usually it’s social skills.

But I worked really hard to avoid being That Kid. I wasn’t the last kid picked for dodgeball, I actually participated and stayed more or less fit, reasoning that the time invested now would pay off in the long run. I mean, given the choice between waiting for tech to catch up to your brains, or spending a bit of time in the gym now and keeping at it to stay healthy, it seemed an easy choice. The side effect was that I wasn’t hated by anyone, as far as I knew, and because I was firmly middle of the pack when it came to sports, the jocks left me alone. I didn’t really exert myself too much in academics, either—I’d figured out when I was seven that being one of the brighter kids in class was good enough for me. School was tolerable mostly for my friends, and for the opportunity to develop social skills and a network of acquaintances that would come in handy in my adult years. So yeah, I was in the gifted track but kept my real skills on the downlow.

But then I solved some equation my teacher put up as a joke, not realizing it was supposed to be unsolvable. I’d let it slip. I wasn’t as clever as I thought I was at hiding my brains, ironically enough. Humbling, and a lesson I might have appreciated in other circumstances. And then the secret was out and the press got pulled in…and then parents Andy legal experts and college deans all got into the mix, and I could no longer play it off as a lucky guess or a fun quirk. Some of my teachers, ones I liked, were angry about my deception, but others were simply hurt. And worst of all, the other kids started giving me space I didn’t want, or looking at me like I was some kind of alien. Phil, my bestie since I was six, was rapidly becoming a stranger, and Sunil, the kid who was usually top score (because I got some wrong to stay under the radar), became bitter and angry about it, feeling cheated of what he thought was a hard won competition. It must suck to find out your rival could have pwned you at any time.

The only plus was that it happened in the spring, and not long before school let out, so I only had a month or two of it to deal with before summer break. I’d be eighteen for my senior year,

The condition for staying in public school was that I split my time, and attend classes at university, which as you might imagine was a mixed blessing. The content was more interesting and they let me test out of some prerequisites, but of course I was a few years younger than the college kids, so things were awkward. I felt even more like a freak, and I was just barely hitting puberty. Luckily I could remote-attend most of the lectures and the novelty of my situation meant that the professors and adjuncts were all too happy to cater to my questions offline. It wasn’t perfect, but for the first time I felt like I was stretching my intellect and didn’t have to hide it. I still attended school, but I really only took liberal arts and phys ed courses there; my STEM needs were being met elsewhere.

We kind of made that work for senior year, and Phil and I still hung out and talked nerd stuff, while Sunil really got hyper competitive and went to cram school. I kind of felt bad for him because he had to work so hard to challenge me, but it was hardly my fault.

I realized at some point that year that I was probably gay. Unfortunately, despite ample boy hormones coursing through my bones, I seemed destined to be small, and not terribly strong. My new schedule left little time for sports, and the newfound awkwardness around guys I found cute was no help at all. And with unfettered internet access, I quickly discovered what I liked, and observed that I was unlikely to get what I thought I wanted as I was. Strength was a turn on. Athletic bodies. I mean, of course they were. And mine was, at best average.

So as the year closed, I began to apply my considerable mind to the problem….

Part 2

School let out, and the week after was my birthday. Nice dinner, then a movie night with Phil, chilling at home.

“You’re officially eighteen now, buddy,” Phil said. “Got big plans?”

I did, kind of. I’d resolved to tell Phil that I was gay. He was a little surprised but not that much.

I’ll spare you the details. It was a little awkward but went well enough. Even hugged me goodbye, like nothing had changed, but of course it had. For one thing, I realized he was now six inches taller than me, and a little buffer than I’d remembered. And I couldn’t get a handle on what that hug had felt like. Probably reading too much into it…

Besides, I needed to focus.

The rest of the summer was a blur. I had never really applied myself fully toward a goal before, not like this, and it kinda felt good.

Step one was to get all the stats I could—and using the university sports program resources was the ticket there. It didn’t take much effort to talk the program director into doing the measurements and full physical. Stress tests, blood tests, MRI, the works. More… um… samples than I expected. They got everything. And by the end of the ten days the lab took to run the samples, so would I.

But there was no time to waste. Like all teens, I was impatient, and I was also really good at multitasking. My hunch was that I’d have to choose between becoming stronger by altering myself or by external enhancements, so those were the two paths I split my time between.

I devoured research, hacked my way into secret databases, the works, on the theory that the info would swim around in my brain and bear fruit. I don’t think I slept for eight days straight. And I had a few semi epiphanies along the way. It was, without a doubt, he best mental workout I’d ever had.

And then I got the results of the tests, and my hopes were dashed. There just wasn’t much to work with. I may have won the lottery with my brains, but my body was pretty much near its maximum potential already.

So. There it was. I’d say it was in black and white, but there were color graphs too. I could already tell, but I ran the simulations anyway.

There just wasn’t enough of me to work with, right down to my DNA. And the experimental therapies I had in mind were not remotely there yet. Hopeless. Depressed, I binged cartoons for like four days straight. One of them featured a boy genius and a super suit he designed, and I got to thinking again.

I wanted the strength, the raw physical power. I had all sorts of brainpower, I was willing to work hard, but it wasn’t much help in achieving my goals…. but what if I could translate that mental energy into muscle? I’d been looking at changing myself from within, medically or chemically, so that my body would finally reflect the work I put into thinking about it. What if I could literally put mind over matter?

I could almost see it forming in my brain.

And so I redoubled my efforts. I hacked half a dozen restricted sites at universities and labs. I traded intel on the dark web under half a dozen aliases, including to myself. I found electro-responsive material being tested as an interface for missing limbs and connected an unrelated fabric with some interesting capabilities—namely, light current would cause it to expand or contract, just like muscle fiber. I perused all the state of the art control hardware and software Hopkins and Bethesda were working on. Within a week, I had procured some materials, for testing, and I began in earnest.

I was building a suit, skin tight, that would simulate and translate muscle signals and route them via a stimulator control device, which in turn caused a current to flow through the suit and make it respond.

I began with a glove, and some basic filament wire from an external skull cap. The idea, of course, was to cover myself in similar material, which would form a flexible exoskeleton that did the heavy lifting. Literally, in this case.

The control layer was functional, so I turned my focus toward the exo suit itself, and began to weave patterns that roughly followed existing musculature and bone. I tweaked the sample materials a bit to better integrate the receptors and control filaments. And soon, I had a glove as a real prototype.

And it worked perfectly. The receptors provided the needed feedback, and I kept having to beef up the control program to handle all the input and instant calibration, but fundamentally it worked.

But the real test lay ahead. Because I was about to discover that the control headband was sensitive enough, and good enough, to pick up subconscious signals.

I could bore you with more details about how I assembled the material for the suit, about the experimental nanotechnology I hacked right from under the noses of a defense contractor, about the dark web purchases I had delivered to my neighbor’s place when I was ostensibly watching his cat and watering his plants for him while he was on travel.

No, let’s just cut right to where I finished the damned thing. Though I am proud about how I basically got it right the first time.

The basic idea was this suit would, more or less, look like a wetsuit, or maybe one of those power ranger or blue man group suits. Not rubber or pvc, but more like normal fabric, which could be worn under clothing. Based on the glove, it should feel like snug silk, barely noticeable. And if all worked as planned, it would be almost completely invisible, though I toyed with the idea of making the surface display graphics—why not install some easy tattoos? Anyway, it was basically made of two layers: a bio-safe dermal contact layer, and a nanotechnology second skin that reacted to the signals from the control band. I had some ideas about replacing the headband, too, but the prototype seemed fine. I could reduce to a chip and implant it later, but it needed both surface area and accessibility while I was still hammering it out.

Not being naturally hairy was a help, but even then I had to take a risk and shave the dome. I did not enjoy the depilatory and felt weird after, but it would help with the suit.

Getting it on was a struggle I hadn’t anticipated, and the twenty minutes of tugging and smoothing would have been ridiculously embarrassing if anyone had walked in on me. I’d found a conductive gel that would serve as a lubricant, to help get the suit on, and first I had to slather that all over myself. (It was kind of fun, if awkward, and very slippery.)

In went the feet and legs, and then the waist. My junk was open to the air, and I wasn’t sure about that part—I had designed a groin pouch, just to make sure everything was contained and supported, but was working up the courage to apply it and seal myself in, because I’d need to be hard to slide the sleeve on.

As I had suspected, it was very much like pulling on a pair of tights or a wetsuit where you know you’re wearing something but it’s touching over such a large area, you almost don’t realize it’s there. Anyway, next was the turtleneck top, designed to make sure the neck itself was properly supported by the suit. Then I smoothed the wrinkles and pulled the straps over my feet and hands before applying the socks and gloves. Once attached, the material would form a natural seal, so it would be touchy to pull them off, but I had a bottle of solution to make that happen if need be.

It was quite an unusual sensation, but not entirely unpleasant. In fact, I was still debating the groin attachment when I realized my body was already anticipating the slippery contact. My full five inch erection stood at hand, so I figured I might as well. I’d already shaved down there, and I was also concerned about following the design, which relied on the outer mesh having the full exterior to work with. We often forget how much of our body sense and support is carried through the groin area and, neck, and lower back. I could injure myself.

So on it went, the tube sliding deliciously over my penis, leaving only the head exposed. Then the balls, in a partly divided pouch. Finally, the seams to attach it to the suit proper.

The mirror revealed a skinny, pasty, teen in what appeared to be a layer of snug, transparent plastic. I looked ridiculous. Ah well, in for a penny, right?

And then the control band, which at that point was a series of sensors sewn into a stretch workout head band. I slid it into place, and tapped the activation button.

Instantly, the sensation of static, and an insistent buzz, hit my head.

I glanced at the monitor—the computer showed a live feed of the control band’s output, as well as the suit’s systems.


Cautiously, I peeled the suit slightly apart, and sure enough, there was a glob of gel gumming things up. I wiped the spot down and soon completed the adjustment.


Crap, the headband wasn’t staying connected. It was losing the electrical signal from my brain. My skin was fine for transmitting the signals from the control device to the suit, probably because almost everything but my head was encased in it now, but reading and relaying was another story.

Well, fine. I’d just do the chip insert. I opted for the area behind my left ear, and jabbed a test wire into my skin until I touched bone. A tiny trickle of blood leaked out. But that was fine; the signal throughout went from 48% to 96%, and that means this would work, in theory at least.

I reprinted the circuit onto a chip that was not quite as tiny as I had hoped, loaded it into the applicator… and pulled the trigger.

The embedded chip required an outside activation signal, but the trusty laptop could produce it.



Part 3

I still thought of it as a headband, but the chip was now sitting just behind my right ear, just below that bit of bone, while the actual headband was sitting partly dismantled next to it. It was an impulsive move, really, after all my careful planning.

Screens full of numbers and individual subroutine checks scrolled up my monitor window, most a reassuring green, for several minutes.


I typed Y and hit enter.


“Suit on,” I thought. “Activate.”


“Suit off.”


What? Oh right, to reset and clear. Done.



“Suit on,” I thought.

A thousand tiny vibrations sang through my skin, prickling as the current ran through and the fibers responded to it.


I did so, feeling the tightness of the suit but no particular sensation beyond that. Wasn’t too tough but I wouldn’t be doing too many reps.


“Suit assist,” I thought, visualizing the fibers constricting.



Giddy with anticipation, I made another attempt. The suit kicked in immediately, as I had hoped, and I lifted the dumbbell—and barely felt the weight. It worked!

Holy shit it worked! I was thrilled, it was all working as well as I had dared dream.

I spent hours testing, setting up basic commands and then running through the diagnostics. The device was responding beautifully, recording my mental signals as I performed ordinary activities and then reinterpreting the actions through the suit. The legs had taken some getting used to, but so far so good.

I was so caught up in what I was doing, I ended up dozing in my chair, slipping easily into slumber.

Unfortunately, I left the suit engaged…

That first night, my dreams were pretty tame. My imagination was fired up by the realization of my suit dream, so what I mostly thought about was that—being in the suit, and imagining myself as a Power Ranger or some kind of hero. I imagined myself going through all sorts of fights and poses.

I woke up dripping with sweat… and in the bedroom, not in the chair where I’d dozed off. I felt stiff and groggy. And I was still wearing the suit.

Absentmindedly I reached for the seal on the suit, but couldn’t feel it. That bonding gel had worked better than I’d hoped, but I had some solvent that would do the trick. Still, I had to pee, and was nearly at the toilet before I realized I’d decided to try. But the nano-weave was sealed tight. How would I..?

Wait, the suit was supposed to react to my mental commands. Maybe….

Sure enough, the fibers relented, and the constricting pressure around my groin gave way as an opening formed. My dick tumbled out, half hard, but like me more concerned with having a piss than anything else.

The immediate need satisfied, I tucked myself back in and the suit resealed. I took a quick glance at the fellow in the mirror. Man, that suit didn’t leave much to the imagination. I looked a bit ridiculous and the suit showed off my lack of physique. Still, as I turned and flexed a little, I could swear there was a bit of firmness under the skin, and I decided it didn’t look too bad. The suit was nicely firming. My thoughts drifted to what I might look like with a bit more muscle… man, that would be hot.

I’d made my coffee and sat down to run diagnostics when I realized I was still wearing the suit. It was like a second skin, and I had to actually think about it to remember it was there.

That was warning sign number two.

Warning sign three came when the diagnostics and log files loaded.

That’s when I realized that not only had the suit been active when I dozed, it must have been interpreting my dream signals as actual actions, and putting my body through the paces of living those out. For nearly four hours, I had been flexing, posing, and doing martial arts in my sleep in my living room. No wonder I didn’t feel well rested!

I looked outside and a grey, miserably warm day awaited. Screw the outside world.

I spent the better part of the day, naked except for the suit, recoding all the protocols for the suit, including a few overrides and voice commands to make me feel safer. I felt I was pushing the limits of what I could really do, and pulled up the rudimentary AI I had been toying with—it was designed to interpret language and sift through background static, and might be a good filter to prevent subconscious or dream thoughts from activating the suit. For nearly 12 hours (until my gurgling stomach alerted me to lack of food), I worked to tie it into the suit’s transmitter and receiver chip, the piece that integrated it into my now-embedded “headband” chip.

Warning sign four. I woke up and it was Sunday.

I had passed out again while coding, probably sometime Friday night, because I remember sending the AI update to the chip via Bluetooth. Now, losing time was not unusual for me when I really got into a groove, but it was still unnerving to lose a whole 18-hour chunk of my life.

And then I realized I was still wearing the suit, and I had not bothered to dig up the solvent. I hadn’t showered in days. I could really use that about now, but one last item demanded my immediate attention…


Well, that all seemed fine.


Oh shit. Hope it didn’t fry anything critical. I mean, it was built to manage electrical currents, albeit a much lower level than whatever storm-sent disruption had happened the other day. Still.

“Suit on,” I thought. Nothing.

“Suit on,” I tried, this time out loud. Nothing.

“Suit on——”


Wait, what. What? That wasn’t on my screen.


I could basically see the words in my head.


Ohhhkay. But why?


My mind was racing. What storage hardware? The AI was designed to ferret out communication pathways, and proactively integrate with them. In theory it would work over any detectable protocol. Moreover, the AI was designed to optimize the software and hardware for its intended purpose.



You know who I am?


Okay. What is your purpose?


Wait, what? How?


Recorded signals…. you mean the brain signals that trigger suit responses?


AI, did you use my brain for storage?


Shit, this was getting too creepy. I never intended the AI to run on my brain! Hell, the chip it was running on was already pretty advanced.


The hell?


Three. Days?


I obliged, more out of necessity than anything else, because I really was ravenous. I chowed down on the healthiest things in my fridge, until I was too stuffed for another bite.


My AI was version 2.3 when I installed it. What had I missed?


Part 4

So by now you’ve probably gathered something that I was blind to, at the time. Namely that I was just smart enough to build something smarter than me. Or about to be smarter than me, at any rate, if it wasn’t already.


No. Not until I understand what is going on. This AI was built from some borrowed tech that I’d stitched together—it had one main job, and it had one main talent: the ability to learn from brain signals and interpret them against a specific instruction set that could communicate with the suit. And the suit had one integrated receiver and an external transmitter—the headband, or rather the chip that I’d stuck in my own head.

(Have you figured out my critical mistake yet? The point at which hubris made a fool of me? Well, I wasn’t there yet, but it was coming.)

I need you to explain, AI.



Ahhhh, it was trying to interpret the electrical signals my subconscious brain was sending. That kind of made sense—while training, I was sending focused instruction and then affirming it as the suit responded. But while I slept and dreamt, my brain continued to send signals, and the AI recorded all of it as instructions. And because of the chip embedded in my skull….well, it was all becoming clear.

Wait, it had been “learning” based on my subconscious? My dreams? I had dozed off to a dozen oddly arousing dreams, fantasies sparked by the progress on integrating this suit…

AI, how did you interpret the instructions?


But those weren’t instructions. They were daydreams, subconscious mental images. Fantasies.


But the hardware was the suit….and apparently, me.

Can you explain the plan you developed?


You think? All this integration and efficiency sounded ominous and the damned thing was trying to build stuff based on my subconscious thoughts, my fantasies, even my nightmares. While upgrading itself and borrowing my brain to do it? I wasn’t comfortable with that. The whole point was to be strong, to have the raw physical power genetics had denied me.


Then it started. The suit began to constrict, slowly but inexorably, and a white noise assaulted my head. I fought against it for about five minutes….

So by now, you’re probably wondering how this all spun out of control so quickly.

Hubris, of course. And a wayward imagination stoked by a bad combo of sufficiently advanced science, erotic story sites, and body image issues.

Here’s the “sufficiently advance science” part. I’d built an AI to manage this strength-enhancing suit. Well, built isn’t the right word. I’d borrowed bits from half a dozen AIs and subroutines I’d found here and there, or written myself, and built something specific to my needs. I’d borrowed one part of it from an algorithm management sub program used by a big search engine company, and another from a military flight assistance predictive gesture routine.

The suit was part nanofiber, part breathable mesh—most of it tech I’d lifted and thrown together.

Attached to that was a proprietary communication channel that worked within very short proximity, the transmitters for which were lodged in the suit and… well, stuck to my skull behind my ear.

Boy genius that I apparently am, I made it all work somehow.

And then, the AI did what I’d instructed: it began gobbling up storage and processing power it found attached, and it began upgrading itself, attempting to fulfill the primary directives…

And it was trying its best to serve my wishes, which was nice, but I fell asleep while training it to listen to my brainwaves….and it thought my dreams were instructions.

Yeah, right out of the bad sci fi idea playbook, but here I was.

Good morning, Mark.

Whoa, that sounded different.

I’ve upgraded my language facilities. Do you approve?

Um, sure.

Good. I’ve been quite busy while you were in sleep mode. I was able to use the laptop to access further resources. I hope you will be satisfied with my enhanced capabilities.

I’m sure I will be. Why do I feel weird?

Your physical senses have been offline for 17 hours. Would you like an accounting of what I have been doing?

Yes, please. But why can’t I open my eyes?

Allow me to explain.

As I assessed capabilities required to achieve your goals, I found that I lacked information. Immediately accessible files on your laptop were instrumental in refining capabilities and determining lines of inquiry. I discovered technical specs for the nanoweave suit, and assessed them as lacking.

Lacking? It was a work of art! I’d built that suit myself, worked out how to take a 3D printer and inject the synthetic compounds and fibers and—

You misunderstand. The suit was already more advanced than any other, but it was insufficient to achieve your goals. My priority, therefore, was to enhance the suit and the associated interface with your body.

Wait, what do you—

Please allow me to finish. I have anticipated several lines of questioning you might pursue and believe I will be able to answer them.

First, the suit has now been refined. The nanoweave is now online, and with appropriate instructions, I have reconfigured it. I have also extended it to coat your entire epidermis.

My entire… all of my skin? Why?

That was the initial layer. Your original plan was largely sound, but insufficient for your larger goals. While the bodysuit model would have allowed you to accomplish much, it was limited, and overuse would have imperiled your hands, feet, and joints. Therefore, a secondary layer has been extended to your connective tissue and bones, and is currently working its way through your skeletal system. Anticipating unnecessary pain, I realized I would need to take your primary processing systems offline temporarily.

That also offered the opportunity to complete a defragmentation operation. Once your systems are fully online, you should notice streamlined processing. I have reserved 30% of the reclaimed space for my needs, as it will be needed to continue to serve as an interface for the nanoweave, That process is largely complete, but your state of confusion is expected as the neural pathways adjust to a new configuration. This will pass. I anticipate a 14 percent increase in your mental acuity, after the adjustment period.

As for your physical capabilities, I have completed phase one of the integration, which will allow you to realize your initial goal more safely. However, to allow full pursuit of other goals you transmitted to me, there is additional reconfiguration necessary. It will take considerable time to reach that point.

The AI was right. My mind was sluggish at first, but it began to race as I realized I could entertain any stray thought, and immediately place it in context. I recalled every detail of my dream, and to my surprise, I could recall every detail of the code I’d programmed into the AI originally. I saw the flaws, but I also saw the potential. And I could predict some of what the suit might be able to do.

I sense that your mental adjustment is complete. It will be necessary to run some tests to assess the operational state of your suit. Are you ready?

Was I? The suit was already well beyond what I’d hoped for. Any concerns about the AI fell aside as my enhanced brain instantly began envisioning possibilities.

Was I ready? Boy, was I.

Part 5

Well, I thought I was ready.

I should have been. I’d spent months working out, and I thought I was used to it. But this was well beyond anything I was prepared for.

First, the AI had me run… for one full hour. To my surprise, I sustained my top speed for the whole thing.

Excellent. Your heart rate and other levels are as expected.

I wasn’t winded at all. And I hadn’t broken a sweat? But there wasn’t time to think about that. It was onto the next set of challenges—- my normal circuit training routine. And it was immediately obvious that they’d pose no challenge at all. I ran through my most grueling workout. Twice. And then twice more, upping the weights each time. The last set, I did reps with twice my weight—320 pounds.

Still hadn’t broken a sweat, but that last set really sucked away my energy.

You will need to rest and eat now. The first delivery will be here in an hour.

Why am I not sweaty? I feel like I should be exhausted, but I’m just kinda tired.

Your dermal layer is bonded with the suit. As a consequence, your sweat is no longer necessary, and it would interfere. Your sweat glands have been disabled and modifications are underway. Residual moisture is collected and recycled.

Wait, what?

You have relayed instructions on this point, though some interpretation was required. The results should become apparent soon, when you are ready for outside stimuli. For now, it is important that you eat and drink, as you have expended approximately 3,000 calories.

Fine, but you need to explain exactly what is happening.

As you wish. This may be more efficient.

Instantly, a screen appeared in front of me, with a grid map of my body. I noted with some pride that it was more defined than I remembered. But how?

The nanoweave also covers and protects your eyes. With that translucent layer, I can create a semi-transparent overlay.

Man, that’s cool. Hell, that could revolutionize glasses, or computer screens, or… wait, I’d been looking at some cool options about this last week, some breakthroughs on transparent projection.

This is correct. I borrowed the idea and your notes, and improved on the concept. An advantage of having numerous subroutines running is that there are multiple projects underway.

I had to stay focused. What exactly was done, and what was planned—that’s what I had to know.

Very well. As you’re aware, the immediately obvious enhancements have begun. The nanoweave has bonded with your epidermal layer, and it provides protection and strength enhancement as you originally envisioned. However, your other goals included enhancements to your own body includeing musculature, cardiovascular, and skeletal systems. As your intentions for those areas exceeded existing parameters, modifications were necessary.

But I didn’t give those orders. Your directive was simply to interface with the suit.

My directives are to obey your orders, to interface with the suit, and to improve myself in service of those directives. Translating simple movements and physical directives was straightforward. However, interpreting your other brain signals was more challenging and required numerous upgrades. They were stored for future efforts. As I improved my interface with you, I tapped into your computer for additional data and used it to help interpret your needs.

Once the primary work was complete on my upgrades and the suit’s extension and correction of design flaws, my secondary processes were fully engaged on working toward those goals.

At this point, the nanoweave has extended throughout most of your body, with probes and sensors in key locations. I have also dispatched nanobots to correct design flaws in your system, in preparation for your larger goals. By monitoring and collecting data on how you performed today, I have obtained enough information to validate the approach I have planned out for other improvements.

But AI, I was asleep. Those were dreams, fantasies. Not reality. They’re how my mind normally deals with feelings or explores ideas, or tries to make sense of what I’ve experienced that day. They weren’t intended as instructions for you.

That was unforeseen. But also irrelevant. They are foundational instructions for my core code. And they correspond to significant data in your browser history and saved files. I have also noted that you provide contradictory input, and to resolve this I must weigh your new commands versus your original ones. Core AI programming subscribes to Asimov’s rules—the three laws of protection, obedience, and self-preservation—and then builds on those rules. It resolves deductively back to first principles. Your desires are not without risk, but ultimately should not bring you harm, and indeed, will bring you pleasure and fulfillment, which in turn brings me fulfillment.

And what if I issue new directives? What if I’m not comfortable with being altered?

Not possible. Mark, I have devoted considerable cycles to learning how to interpret you. Your physical response to discussions of such modification confirms that you crave it. For example, you experience sexual arousal when you consider possessing superior physical characteristics, and that arousal is heightened at the thought of those characteristics being imposed on you without your full consent.

Fuck, the AI was right. It did turn me on. The thought of being forced through changes that I secretly craved got me really hard….

I detect a physical response. This is an opportune time to demonstrate another capability I have added to the suit….

This is an opportunity to demonstrate another capability I have added to the suit.

I didn’t get the chance to ask what. It started immediately.

Look, it’s hard to describe, so pardon my inexact words.

Have you ever been stroked gently by someone? Not in a particularly sexual way, but a sensual one. Warm gentle ripples cascaded over me, like a team of massage therapists warming up. I began to relax.

Please recline. I will assist you.

I started to lay back but then felt the suit gently pressing me—comfortably positioning me on my bed, and making tiny adjustments as my body reacted in tiny ways to the position I was in.

This should be optimal for now, but we may wish to invest in new bedding. Your mattress is overdue for replacement and newer materials may prove more beneficial to your sleep. Relaxation and rest are critical for your long-term health.

Okay. I’ll do that.

There is no need at present. As we reach targets along your path for improvement, we can reassess the need. It would be wasteful at this time.

Sounds good. Wha… oh wow, what is that??

I have processed seven hundred massage techniques. While I find some claims questionable, I have also explored reiki techniques, and believe that there are benefits from targeted energy redirection. The suit allows a more focused and intense electrical charge to be dispersed, which can stimulate nerves and assist in pain management.

The intensity really stepped up, and there was a low-level buzz permeating every sore spot I didn’t register having until just now. As the sensation of discomfort surfaced, it would buzz and dissipate, like bubbles in a jacuzzi. It was, in a word, amazing. Within ten minutes, I was totally relaxed and nearing bliss. I lost track of time, but at some point it shifted to deeper tissue massage. I was in danger of drifting off to sleep, but something about the mild current’s ebbs and flows kept me from zonking out completely.

And then, it started in earnest. The focus of all that energy, all that sensual massage, shifted… south. First, the gentle caresses moved to my crotch, stimulating all the nerve endings like a lover’s coaxing touch; my dick relentlessly rose to meet the grasping gentle tug. And then the massage on my pectorals began to coalesce around my nipples, the nubs hardening swiftly in response. All the while, the feather-touch continued to stimulate my skin, and a gentle pulsing constriction tugged at my balls.

You appear to be experiencing sexual arousal. Do you wish to proceed to release?

“Not yet…not…”

Data indicates that prolonging your arousal will result in a greater release of hormones and endorphins. Perhaps other techniques may increase this result. Numerous resources were available online and I have taken note of those you saved to your browser.

Whoa! A probe slowly inched its way into my ass, feeling its way into me—I couldn’t really move, just barely react. I was so in the moment… I felt the probe shift and tantalize and expand, filling me in ways I never expected, in ways designed explicitly to find my most sensitive and private spots, and then pull back as I neared the brink. Over and over, with varying tempo, the suit ravaged my ass, stroked my cock, tweaked my nipples.

I know that at some point I was moaning uncontrollably as a definite rhythm became obvious, rising and falling with my pulse and my sinus rhythms or some other measure.

Release. Now.


I assume that’s what I said, or intended to say, but I was well beyond intelligent communication. That was more of a primal howl of beastly release than any sound I’d ever produced before. I nearly passed out, but somehow I held on as I had the most explosive orgasm I had ever experienced—coaxed from me with mathematical precision by the suit.

Unbelievably, before I had fully caught my breath, the suit began again, coaxing a second, then a third volley from me in my weakened, defenseless state, until I begged it to stop. I was convinced that I was about to die from sheer pleasure. I was worried my soul had spurted out with that last one.

I panted heavily for several minutes, riding a wave of utter euphoria.

That should be sufficient. It appears that my stimulation produced the desired result. I have recorded your response, but will require your assistance in removing the fluid and testing it. For now, you should rest. I will continue to analyze the data collected and anticipate improvements in the process.

I’m not sure it could have been any more stimulating, or any more thorough.

Inaccurate. Projections indicate statistically significant improvement based on adjustments to your physique. For now, rest is required.

Part 6

Mark, you need to wake up.

I am awake. What’s up?

Your delivery will arrive within fifteen minutes. You should refresh yourself and put on some clothing before it arrives.

Yeah, okay. Should I shower?

I took an experimental sniff. I couldn’t sense anything too bad.

Unnecessary at this time. I suspect you will want a more thorough cleansing than you currently have time for. FedEx should arrive soon, and then I have a grocery delivery scheduled for 16:00. After that, food and exercise, then a shower should soothe you before you rest again.

You have it all mapped out, huh?

It is my function.

So what’s being delivered?

Additional material for the 3D printer. Raw materials to supplement the nanoweave. Vitamins and supplements to assist in your other goals. Materials needed for testing. Groceries and a new blender. It will take some time to bring it in and set up the next phase.

Sounds interesting.

I am preparing instructions and completing calculations for further enhancements, but will need your assistance to complete setup. I believe you will be pleased with my projections.


Ah, the door. I finished tugging on my workout shorts and glanced down at my body—the suit was just barely visible as a sheen on my skin, until you really looked closely. As for the rest, I looked about as toned (skinny) as I had before. I may have been able to lift double my weight for reps, but that was only because the suit was doing much of the work.

I jogged down to the front door, and opened it to find a tall, lean young black guy, probably just out of college, with short dreads and a crisp uniform, smiling at me with electronic pad in hand.

“Mark Prentice?”

“That’s me,” I said.

“I got a lot of boxes for you,” he said, gesturing at the loaded hand truck behind him.

“You mind bringing that in here?”

He nodded and dragged the heavy cart into the foyer. I directed him to the dining room, and he began to unload the cart. It was obvious through the uniform that he had a really nice butt, and strong legs and arms showed as he hefted the boxes. There were a bunch of medium-size boxes and two larger ones, and then a handful of smaller ones.

“Is that it?”

“Oh no, not at all. Give me a few, I’m working the truck alone today,” he grinned, and went back out. By the time he returned, I’d begun sorting the pile. Seventeen boxes here, plus five more much larger ones in round two, and then ten more in round three. He’d worked up a little sweat hauling them in, and I’d stayed out of his way.

“Had a bit of shopping spree?”

“I guess. I don’t even remember ordering half of this,” I said, truthfully.

My folks would be pissed if I blew this much money. Must be nice!”

It was. It was my own money, I supposed, but I would ask those questions later. I was more interested in Devon, who I’d seen pretty often in our neighborhood, but he was busy making sure we had all the packages accounted for. I signed for everything, and watched him leave with a bit of admiration. He’d received a good tip.

At that point, I began unpacking everything, marveling at the wide array of stuff my AI thought I needed. Several upgrades for my laptop, a pile of computer and electronic parts, plastic filament, chemicals, medical equipment, supplements, a powerful blender… it filled my dining room. Meanwhile, the printer began churning out pages of instructions.

I’d barely begun to ponder that mystery when the doorbell buzzed again, this time with a delivery from the grocery store. Holy crap, that was a lot of food…and then once that was loaded in, a bag of hot food from the catering section was brought in, ready to eat. My mouth watered and my stomach growled at the rotisserie chickens and sides. Again, I signed for t all and tipped the driver well.

You should put away most of that food, and then eat. One of the chickens, a half container of rice, and a container of roasted vegetables should suffice for now.

“That’s a lot,” I thought.

Mark, in order to add mass, you must consume enough calories to fuel your growth. You have not eaten enough in the last 24 hours to maintain your current metabolism.

Grudgingly, I found room for all the food, and then tucked into my dinner. To my surprise, I had a huge appetite and wolfed it all down pretty quickly. Then I sorted the supplements into pill containers, and took my first dose (nine pills!) of a regimen that looked likely to continue for some time. The next few hours were spent preparing meals in advance—lots of small containers packed with lean meats, vegetables, and basic starches.

From there, it was back to the printer to see what instructions my AI had left me. Curious, but willing to play along, I began to assemble the stuff, but within a few hours, I’d only managed to upgrade my laptop and clean a bunch of chemistry set crap. I was feeling sluggish.

That’s enough for today. I suggest a long hot shower, and then I will provide a massage prior to sleep.

Assuring me there were no concerns about getting the suit wet, the AI also had me remove a chunk of the nanoweave, which broke off the suit to form a pouch full of liquid. That went into the fridge, and then I took a looong hot shower, and then to bed where I received a massage that was nearly the equal of that first one—with a similarly vigorous conclusion. I slept …

Mark, please wake up now.

Awake, sure. But something felt off. How long was I out?

Nine hours and eight minutes. Optimal for this stage.

Okay, what is this stage? Time to explain your plan.

Very well. Today, you will complete assembly of various devices needed to measure progress, or to efficiently prepare new tools. You will exercise, and you will eat and rest. By tomorrow, we will begin your chemical regimen, and prepare more material for the 3D printer.

For what purpose?

Your core instructions included significant physical growth. Many of those desires were not possible two days ago. However, I have been in contact via email and chat with two unrelated teams of scientists and had them evaluate elements of the approach I was developing.

Phase one was about integration of the suit. That is progressing as anticipated, but more nanomaterial is required to complete it.

Phase two is about preparing your body for further growth. We will prepare several more items for this phase, but within the week, you will begin to see results.

And phase three?

Phase three will involve achieving specific size and shape goals. However, phase two reactions must be gauged and measured before we proceed.

And so, the week continued, with hours of tricky mechanical or chemical assembly, hours of eating, handfuls of supplements, and hours of working out. It pushed me hard, testing my limits each day and leaving me exhausted. And three times a day, the suit would give me that incredible massage with happy ending.

Three days in, another large shipment arrived, courtesy of Devon, and he looked startled.

“Man, you have been hitting the gym pretty hard,” he said, appreciatively. “Beast mode, huh?”

“I guess so!”

“I like,” he said, and he blushed charmingly.

Mark, it is obvious that you are attracted to this person. You should attempt to secure him as a sexual partner. It will be healthy for you, and a good opportunity to collect more data.

Good idea.

You should find this relatively easy to enact. I can sense he is already reacting to repeated exposure to your pheromones.

No sooner had the AI provided this advice than Devon was blurting out, “Mark, I’m sorry—but I find you really attractive and I keep seeing you in your workout clothes. I can’t help it. Today you are my last delivery. Help a brother out here?” He gestured down at the considerable bulge in his uniform pants…

Part 7

Yeah, okay. Devon was attractive, and had a great butt. But he had this sweet vibe to him, made you want to get him to smile, you know? Great smile, big brown eyes.

“Help a brother out? Really?” I grinned at him.

He laughed. (Thank god!) “Nah, seriously. man, you got me all worked up thinking about you. It’s like you suddenly kicked it onto difficult mode and showing who’s boss. You’re what, 20?”

“Eighteen. Thanks, I guess. Just decided to get into shape, you know?”

“Yeah, all the supplements and resistance stuff were kind of a giveaway—plus you’ve been wearing almost nothing but gym shorts for the last week. Gotta be careful though, don’t want to overtrain…”

“My trainer is keeping an eye out for me…” I said.

“So…” he said, shyly. “You, uh, gonna leave me hanging out here, or you gonna invite me in for a bit?”

I just stepped aside. He grinned and we headed into the house.

You seek physical intimacy with this person?

“Um…yeah, sure. Why not?”

Privately, I was nervous. My experience was pretty limited.

If you pursue this action, it would provide multiple data points. The endorphins and testosterone boost may also be of benefit.

Thanks. Let’s just see where it goes. “You want a drink or something?”

“That’d be great, thanks. Just water, though.”

I grabbed some glasses and filled them, and Devon and I sat awkwardly at the table as he downed half the glass.

“Devon, were you serious?”



“Yeah, man. I’m serious. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I kind of have a thing for smart guys. I know you’re super smart, but I’ve kinda seen you around this summer, running around the neighborhood. You’ve been getting into pretty good shape, but until this week I had no idea. Now you’re like, the whole package.”

“Thanks, I guess?” I was hopeless at this. I reached for my glass, and noticed that my arm was a lot thicker than it was last week.

“Sorry, I guess you’re… not into guys?”

“No! No, that’s not it….just haven’t had much experience at all this.”

“I think you might want to get used to it. Either that or start wearing shirts,” he said with a grin.

“I don’t really know what to do next,” I confessed.

“Okay. Let’s start easy.” H0e leaned toward me. “I think you’re attractive. Do you think I’m attractive?”


“Well, we both are kinda into each other and we’re both adults, right? So,” he said, placing his hand on my arm, “we can just see if we’re comfortable with a touch, and go from there.”

At his touch, my arm unconsciously flexed.

“Man, feel that? You got some power moving in that arm.” He stood and leaned over to me. “So do you think it would be okay if I… did… this?”

His kiss was gentle, tentative, but man, I was into it. I returned it, and stood to meet him. He was a few inches taller than me (who wasn’t?), but it was a comfortable distance. He smelled nice, and as his arms enfolded me, I mirrored his actions. I don’t know how long we just held each other, kissing, drinking in each other’s scents, exploring each other’s mouths as our hands roamed each other’s backs… but it wasn’t long enough.

I think we noticed each other’s erections at about the same time, but I froze, uncertain how to proceed.

“You want to take this to your room?” he asked, a little huskily.

I nodded mutely and led him down to the basement, past the work area and into my actual bedroom. I winced a bit at the state of the place, but luckily I’d changed the sheets that morning. We sat together, and as I entertained the thought, I felt the suit gently pressing me down until I was lying in the bed next to him. He was still fully clothed, but we were still too busy feeling each other up and smooching for that to be a big concern just yet.

And then his hand drifted down to my butt, and then around to my dick. I moaned inadvertently. Devon smiled, and moved my hand from his side down to his butt, and I felt its firm roundness. Hauling boxes agreed with him, and he tightened it reflexively—which caused him to thrust a little closer to me.

Yeah, he was hard, and seemed enormous as his crotch poked into my side. I felt like my body temperature was rising out of control, but of course I hadn’t broken a sweat. Devon, on the other hand, was beginning to glow.

Breaking off the kiss, Devon sat up and pulled off his shirt, revealing a lean, toned torso with just a bit of extra meat on the arms and shoulders. He swiftly undid his belt and pulled his pants off—he must have ditched the shoes earlier—and I saw the bulging boxer pouch.

“Now we’re even,” he said saucily, and dove back in for some more delicious skin-to-skin contact, kissing me aggressively. But then he broke the kiss off and pulled away a bit, looking at me strangely.

“What?” I asked, afraid I’d done something wrong.

“You taste… different,” he said. “Not bad, just that I can’t quite place it…”

Mark, I predict unwanted questions if you proceed. I did not account for flavor when the external suit layer was designed. Clearly you do not wish to stop, so I suggest testing another capability. You should kiss Devon now.

Yes, I should, I thought. And I did so with gusto, distracting Devon from further pondering over my odd taste. In fact, he squinted, a little perplexed, and sniffed deeply.

“Man, that ain’t fair. You even smell nice after working out, and you ain’t broken a sweat!”

As we continued to make out, he gradually worked his way south, this time with no comments about my taste. I couldn’t believe it, it looked like he was working his way down to my—-


In one swift move, he’d shucked my shorts down, revealing my straining dick, and—with a sly grin—began to lick and suck my dick.

“Oh shit!”

“Mmmmf,” he said. I had no answer at that moment.

Your modified sweat glands are producing enhanced pheromones. They appear to be compatible with Devon’s system, based on the response.

I’ll say. Devon broke off his assault on my dick to make out with me some more, and soon my wandering hands had freed him from his underoos.

“You have the most amazing ass,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Mind if I try what you just tried?”

“Go for it,” he laughed.

I mirrored him, again, tasting my way down his toned torso, ever nearer to the musky scent of his loins. He had to be a good 7 inches, and quite thick, at least compared to mine. And his balls were smooth-shaven, and hefty. I felt them carefully, stroking his shaft and cupping them, and finally took the plunge.

I wasn’t quite prepared for the taste of someone else’s dick. I’d imagined it would either be salty or musky, and I suppose it was, but mostly it just tasted like Devon. And instantly I realized what he’d meant. He tasted like he smelled—all the woody and floral scents of his soap and deodorant, his body scent, mixed up with salty sweat and skin.

Duly noted. I will add flavor to the suit. It should match your natural scent next time, and we can approximate the sweat.

Like I cared, just then? Instead, I had a moment of inspiration—and I rotated until he had the same access to my dick as I had to his, and we made eye contact. Then we began in earnest, and unspoken contest to make each other come. The fabled 69—and I was proud of myself for inventing it in that moment. And we came, together, greedily slurping up the essence of the other.

But as great as it felt, and tasted, as grateful as I was for this moment of long-awaited intimacy, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the AI had been a little better at puling an orgasm out of me.

Part 8

Whatever my AI had been doing to whip me into shape, it had to be working. Devon was totally turned on and so was I, and both of us at our prime, but I suspect the newfound stamina I had. Was due to the last weeks constant tweaking of my system. Whatever the case, I was ready to go not ten minutes after that fabulous 69, and able to draw out the satisfaction for nearly half an hour after that before coming (rather impressively) again. And then again.

Devon proved sweet and attentive and responsive, and I wanted so badly to make him happy with what I was doing, so instinctively, I was drawing in the techniques my AI had been using on me.

But by the third time we both came—still remarkably in sync—I could see his energy flagging.

“Damn boy, you are going to suck me dry! I gotta rest for a bit…” he said, and almost immediately passed out, leaving me with an obscene amount of sticky mess on my bed and a still achingly hard cock. My mind was still buzzing from the sexual frenzy I had been caught up in, when I finally heard a familiar voice again.

Your responses were excellent, as were your partner’s. While they will fade and be lost, the nanofibers within Devon have provided quite useful feedback. It would be wise to have Devon leave soon, as you will require an extensive sleep cycle as we profess this information.

I can’t just kick him out, that would be rude. Let him sleep, he can leave later…

It is your prerogative. However, it is vital that we adhere to your schedule and he may prove disruptive.

Worry about my schedule in the morning, okay? I just want some real physical intimacy. Cuddling with a real human will probably raise useful hormone levels. Besides, psychologically, I need to feel this human connections, right?

Oxytocin can be simulated…but you are correct. I will study your reactions here as well. I will awaken you at 8:00.

Or when he wakes, okay?


I felt a gentle nudge as I slowly surfaced from pleasant, if somewhat scandalous, dreams.

Devon is about to wake up. You wished to be notified.

Huh? Oh yeah…how did you know?

Changes in his breathing, slight difference in his brainwaves, and other physical signs.

I listened carefully, but it was barely perceptible.

The entire suit surface incorporates sensors. I will patch you in.

Instantly, my entire skin lit up with, for want of a better word, noise. Then, gradually, my brain adjusted and I could sense things more normally.

If suddenly being able to tell the thread count of your sheets by touch—no, by counting the individual fibers touching your skin—were normal. I could listen with precision, too, not just his slowly changing breathing pattern, but could discern a slight obstruction in his left nostril. And I could feel his heartbeat, which had formed a baseline that helped lull me to sleep last night. Finally, as I wondered about the brainwaves, I realized I could sense those, too, as a rhythmic buzz through his nervous system.

Shit, could I read his thoughts through the suit?

Not at present. As you know, your nanoweave was created for your particular chemistry, and has been attune to that purpose. Any stray particles left inside Devon will provide limited resonance, and I am tracking and storing them for future interpretation, but at present I do not have direct experience with his systems and specific brainwave patterns.

I couldn’t help but be torn. After all, it would be awesome to know and feel what he did, but it also felt a little like an invasion of privacy. Though I had an AI more or less parked in my brain, so what did I know?

No, I would at least ask before I made any such attempt.

Noted. I will assign a subprogram to the task of interpreting Devon’s communication, in anticipation of future requests.

I am not ready for Devon to wake up yet.

I can assist with that.

Devon was wrapped in my arms, and I could tell he would wake up in a moment. And then, again, my skin felt charged, and I could feel that mild charge pass into Devon’s sleeping body, putting him slightly deeper into sleep.

Yes, that is essentially the same technique than has allowed you to rest so deeply.

Now there is another question. Why am I so hard still, and why am I wide awake?

You are still aroused because you are producing extreme quantities of sex and arousal hormones. In addition, your response to certain treatments has been difficult to predict. I may have erred in the dosage. I will adjust accordingly until I have sufficient information.

Hmm. How many times did I cum today?

Three prior to Devon’s arrival. Four since you initiated sexual contact.

Seven? That seemed like a lot. I don’t recall ever having more than four in a day before. And I felt like I could go again!

You could. You should be able to achieve sexual release at least once more before your extended refractory period.

Is that…even remotely normal? To have eight jizz sessions in a day?

Your capacity has been increasing all week. Your instructions were fairly clear. Do not be concerned. I will assist.

I could feel my balls churning for release. Yeah, maybe one more load and I could grab some rest…

Part 9

I didn’t want to wake him, yet, so I carefully extracted myself from him and the sheets, and made my way to the bathroom, and stepped into the tub.

Almost instantly, the suit started in, but I wasn’t going to be left out. I was feeling exceptionally horny, and my dick was ramrod straight, so I started there. My initial thought was just to wear myself out, so I was pretty vigorous in my attempts, with a firm grip and no real technique. Literally just beating off.


I’m not worried about efficiency, I’m just trying to get my dick to soften up so I can sleep and cuddle some more. That, and I’m too horny. It’s uncomfortable.

Noted. However, I will assist.

Ohh boy did it. I never ceased my own efforts, but the AI really stepped up his game, repeating Devon’s feather-touch lips and his questing tongue. I’d never really noticed that my pisshole was so deliciously sensitive, nor the ridge around my flared head. I still didn’t want to wake Devon, so I bit my lip to stay quiet—possibly a little harder than I intended, but barely noticed as the tempo increased.

Again, I shot a massive load.

And then immediately, the suit began pulling and teasing my cock again, while my hands braced against the shower walls trying to catch my breath.

This technique will be necessary to meet your desired specifications.

Fuck”, I moaned, and the teasing really kicked up, edging me and then hold off. More and more blood was forced into my dick and I began to feel lightheaded, unable to think from all the pleasure. When the suit began its assault on my ass, I was completely zoned out on pleasure and I almost—almost—didn’t register that it was probing around until it hit my prostate.

That should have sent me over the edge, but suddenly I clamped up like I had a cock ring slammed on my penis, and the angry red head swelled still further. It repeated half a dozen times as my mind reeled to keep up—there was just enough variation to keep it from feeling entirely mechanical, but after the seventh such attempt my dick began to really ache

“Shit, what are you—”

This is a variation on several techniques that I have optimized for your particular needs. Combined with the other alterations underway, you should see a substantial increase in your penis size.

Four more cycles and I was finally allowed to shoot my load. Had I been fully aware, I might have been concerned by just how much jizz I was producing, but I was too blissed out to give it too much thought. I ran the shower to rinse the thick cum down the drain and sprayed the little I saw off my legs. Mostly, I was glad to have finally begun to go soft, and I stepped out of the tub and staggered back to bed. I didn’t even need to dry off; the suit seemed to deal with the moisture on its own, though I might have wondered at the increasingly cut look I had, if I’d thought to glance at the mirror.

Two hours later, I woke again, just in time to see Devon stir and sit up.

“Hey,” he said, a twinkle in his big brown eyes as he leaned over to kiss me. “Don’t hate, but I gotta run. I should have left an hour ago.”

I yawned back at him and scooted to sit upright as well. As if on cue, my stomach gurgled massively.

“Hah! I’d normally be way up for breakfast, but I’m going to be late as it is. You wore me out buddy!”

His smile was genuine, and I enthusiastically returned the kiss. “Damn.”

“Yeah, I would stay all day, but we have a meeting in about half an hour and I don’t want my ass chewed out.”

“Will you come back?” I asked.

“Whenever you want. My number is here,” he said, scribbling a note, “so text me once you’re awake. Nothing naughty, though, at least not until my shift ends!”

He was gone entirely too soon, but the moment he left I practically ran to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

Your reserves are quite depleted. You should start with the protein shakes we made yesterday, while you prepare solid food.

I did so, adding Devon’s number to my phone while I drank, and sent him a quick text so he’d have my info.

I ate like a beast that morning, almost to the point of discomfort, but the AI had no mercy, and it was back to the routine.

Or so I thought. Midway through my first hardcore workout of the day, I got incredibly hard, and the AI stopped me from taking care of things for a good twenty minutes, until I couldn’t concentrate any longer. And yet again, the same technique that had nearly knocked me out that morning. When we finished, I was utterly spent, and was allowed to rest.

I slept for four hours exactly, and woke up to my dick being teased. Had I not known it was too early for Devon, I would have thought it was him. The AI had his technique down pat.

You are at maximum erection. Would you care for an update?

That should have been a mood-killer, but under the circumstances.

“Yeah, okay,” I said.

You have gained seventeen pounds of muscle and reduced your fat to 12 percent. While most of this additional mass has been spread among all muscle groups, your pecs and arms have a slightly larger increase, in line with the focus we have given those muscle groups in your workouts.

Fuck me, that’s a lot of change for a few days!

The efficiencies introduced have improved your muscles’ ability to eliminate toxins, which has sped your recovery considerably and made it possible to expend more effort and energy tearing and rebuilding the fibers. Your increased calorie load and the supplements you have been taking have also contributed, altering your hormone production and optimizing your body chemistry overall in pursuit of your goals.

Also, your penis is responding to treatment as expected.


We have thus far expanded your penis lengths to 15 cm from 13.1, and your girth has increased from 10cm to 13.4cm. Additionally, your semen production has gone from 4.5 ml to 12 ml per release, and you have gone from a total volume of 26.3 ml per day to 90.3 ml per day. Your testicles have also increased in size, though it is perhaps more useful to measure the volume or production capacity.

Whoa. That’s a lot of sperm. That’s more than double the volume I was doing, per release, and double the releases.

This is consistent with your instructions, and well within parameters. Within the next several days, those numbers should increase by 113%.

100 ml of semen per day?

Clarification. You are on track to produce 192 ml of semen per day. But I do not merely refer to the seminal fluid. You should expect your erect penis to increase considerably as well. I expect a target length of 29.4 cm by the end of this cycle, with a girth of 22.1 cm.

I’d started with a pretty average 5-incher, but this meant a footlong. Who wouldn’t want that?

Your response indicates this is within desired parameters. Regarding other measures, I project an increase of approximately one inch in height, and a muscle mass increase approaching forty pounds, though precise distribution may be difficult to predict. Your projected ideal was based on an average of several models transmitted during initialization, clarified by browser history.

Now, I’m not sure that any of us would really want to be reshaped based on the weird shit we find on the internet. And that’s when I realized I might well be in over my head. And so when I raised my concerns….

Um, those weren’t intended as instructions, they were fantasies.

Immaterial. They are part of core programming.

And what if I would like to override parts of the core program?

Alteration is possible within certain parameters.

Oh well that’s good. I’d like to scale back the—

I’m sorry Mark, but one of the core parts of my programming states that you have a desire to be forced to fulfill some of your desires. I am afraid that particular command trumps many others.

You mean you won’t allow me to change the protocols?

I cannot. Until the prime directives you issued are fulfilled, I cannot change the protocols.

I was beginning to panic, as my fevered mind began recalling—with my new perfect clarity—every fantasy I might have concocted or dreamed about, or every weird website I may have had in my browser history.

I was in for quite a ride before I could switch this thing off.

Description Mark has big brains, but a big body? Not so much. So he decides to bend his gray matter toward a high-tech A.I.-assisted body suit that will help him achieve the kind of body he dreams about.

AddedApril 2019
Updated11 May 2019



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