Augmentations 5
by AKA
He stood before me in all his naked glory. To say that he was larger was to say that the summer sun is hotter. Muscle bulged from every inch of his frame. Still, his body did not evince the bloated musclebound thickness I had seen in too many steroid- and human growth hormone-pumped meatheads who were pushing so many needles into their asses that they looked more like porcupines.
Those men were cheaters, of a sort, though who wasn’t anymore? There was a drug for everything, now, no matter what you wanted to improve. From dick size to hardness to thickness to semen production to non-stop libidos and everything in-between, a guy could go to his local pharmacy and come out with a bag of magic so powerful that within a week, he could look like whatever fantasy he had in his head.
The man before me - if he could even be still considered a man - was so much more beautiful than any of those oddities, though. Maybe because he had been built from scratch to look like that. Maybe because there was nothing left to chance in his DNA, and they had filtered out all the impurities and less-than-perfect bits from the egg and sperm that had produced him, and now here he was, god made flesh, standing two feet in front of my prone, naked body, looking every inch of perfection that it was possible to buy.
My cock was throbbing hard just looking at him. Nothing - no one - had ever looked like him, and I’d had my share of beautiful men, both seduced and paid-for. “Are you...”
His head tilted and he grinned. “I am all right,” he answered, before I could ask it.
“The bond?”
He nodded, and his grin became a perfect smile. He tapped his forehead with his perfect index finger. “You are still here, with me.”
“And can you...?”
“I can,” he answered. And then he did. I hardly had time to gasp a shuddering breath before he was flooding my system in sexual bliss. I felt warm and hard and a quicksilver orgasmic rush filled me up and my hard-on swelled to purple hardness and I released a thick, sudden fountain of cream that shot up three feet and splattered to the mats that covered my gym floor. He narrowed his eyes and bit his bottom lip and another sensation slammed into me, one as powerful but different in scope, more heat, more passion, something like lust, and I wanted him very, very badly.
It scared me, too. He had that power over me. And as soon as the fear manifested, the sensation disappeared and a concerned look washed over his insanely handsome features. He offered his hand to me - a broad, strong thing with perfect shining nails and smooth, warm skin. I took it and he lifted me back to my feet, saying, “I’m sorry, I did not mean...”
I waved him off. “It’s okay. I just wasn’t prepared for that one.”
“You prefer sex?”
“Well, there’s really only one answer to that question,” I joked. “But what do you mean?”
“You prefer sex to love?”
“Love?” The idea shocked me. He could... Could he... “Can you do that?”
“We are bonded,” he answered. “As a Level 4, I am authorized to become a Partner.”
“But... what are you now. Or, I mean, what were you before?”
“Companion,” he answered. His voice was a low, musical rumble. It stroked my dick and licked my balls. “As a Partner, I am able to offer augmented emotional support.”
“I see,” I said, though really I didn’t. I knew there were drugs for that, too. Drugs to stop depression. Drugs to stop fear. The brain was just a big chemical soup with electrical wires attached, and science knew how it all worked. Why wouldn’t they know this part, too? “Could we... let’s... let’s not...”
“I won’t,” he answered. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”
I looked him up and down. “Very, very sure,” I answered. “Do you want to stay?”
“I want what you want of me,” he answered, automatically.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, we had a deal, remember?”
“As a Level 4...”
“Fuck that shit. You’re still you. There’s just more of you,” I said, then I glanced down at that huge and gorgeous shank of meat hanging between his thighs, and corrected, “there’s just a hell of a lot more of you than there was, but you’re still you. For this night. With me. Do you understand?”
“I am having difficulty,” he said. “It is... It’s... I have not received the proper conditioning and indoctrinations,” he said, repeating his weird, earlier speech, but this time in his own melodious voice. “I apologize.”
“No need, but let’s see what we can do about that. I have an idea, if you’re game?”
“A game?”
He did seem a bit out of it, like part of his disk had been erased or something. “Not a game. Well, it’s kind of... come with me.”
“To the bedroom?” he asked hopefully. There was that growl in his voice again, a decidedly feral sound like an animal was caged inside him.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” I said, “but we’re not having sex.” He looked particularly disappointed. “I mean, we’re not having sex yet. Oh, don’t you worry, we will be having sex. Lots and lots of sex. But I think you need something else, first.”
As he followed me, I was overwhelmed by his size. He was so big, so broad, so impossibly huge and bulging with brawn that it felt a bit like a wall was behind me, moving under its own power. There was also a certain scent that he seemed to be developing. He had smelled good before, for sure. But that seemed more like a polite cologne, though there was nothing chemical or flowery about it. The new scent held some of those properties. It was heavily masculine, perhaps designed to impart a sense of his deep and penetrating sexuality, but this new scent, the one growing in strength with the rest of his muscles, it was more... potent. More funky and raw and... again, the word ‘animal’ sprang to my mind.
I cast a glance back at him as we climbed from the gym floor and caught him staring at my ass. His eyes looked almost menacing, as if he had become mesmerized by my butt or something. I had to smile, though. I had a nice ass. Nothing wrong with admiring it.
Reaching the ground floor again, the storm still raged outside, perhaps even stronger than before. Shocks of lightning lit up the darkened space, and thunder boomed against the thick glass. “Lights, 50%,” I said, and the darkness abated as the hidden OLEDs slowly rose in brightness. Our clothing was still strewn about, and I lead him toward the bedroom, again, where only an hour before he had managed to fuck the living daylights out of me. I looked back and down at the thick monster wagging at his crotch and felt a slight shudder of fear. Was he so big now that he’s rip me wide open?
It would almost be worth it, to die like that, just to feel this man take charge.
“Lie on the bed,” I commanded.
He did so immediately, crawling his bulk onto the mammoth mattress and lying on his wide, heavily-muscled back. His cock stuck straight up like a flagpole, and his chest refused to budge, even though it was so thick and heavy with muscle that I thought its sheer weight would flatten it against him. “No,” I said, though I would regret not having this view of his gorgeous perfection. “On your belly.”
He grinned and winked at me, and as he turned over, he assumed the position of a man who was about to be well and truly fucked, spreading his legs wide and opening himself to me. I chuckled and my cock throbbed and pulsed at the sight of his mounds of ass meat, so choice and round and beautiful. But I said, “Relax. We’re not there, yet. You need to relax.”
“I am relaxed,” he said, even though every bulging muscle across his back was fully flexed and swollen beneath his silky skin, like desert dunes.
I moved onto the bed and straddled him, my cock slipping between the sweaty cheeks of his ass. Then I leaned forward and applied my hands to his shoulders, and began to knead his massive muscles.
The man was rock hard. Absurdly hard. I could feel every muscle head keenly beneath my hands. I pushed and gripped his brawn, trying hard to force pleasure from my fingers into his muscle. “You’re fucking hard,” I said.
“That feels good,” he answered. Then he moaned. His whole body shuddered. “Ah, fuck,” he groaned, moving beneath my hands. “That feels soooooo good.”
“It’s supposed to,” I answered, but my job was harder than it looked. His muscles seemed unyielding to my hands. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough to even dent them. I settled back and reached around, slapping his ass hard. “I said relax! Jesus, your muscles are as hard as a rock.”
“Those aren’t the only things hard as a rock,” he said. Then he laughed, and I shook atop him. “Sorry,” he added. “Obvious joke.” He turned his head to try to look at me, and said, “Please don’t stop. It feels good.”
“You’re going to have to relax or I’m going to break my fingers off in the space between your muscles.” He laughed again, nearly lifting me into the air. So much power! So much strength! But then his back muscle did seem to soften, if ever so slightly, and I reapplied my hands to his smooth, sensuous flesh. “Better,” I praised.
He moaned again. I could feel it pass through me as I straddled him. My cock was sliding up and down the crack of his ass, and that felt good, too. I leaned down, my belly against his lower back, and pushed my elbow into his shoulder. “Is that too hard?”
“No,” he said, quietly. “It feels... this is amazing,” he said. I could feel his emotions through the bond. Pleasure and appreciation.
“Is this your first massage?” That was hard to believe.
He nodded. “I am trained in giving them, but no one... no one has ever...” He groaned again. It sounded like there was a grizzly beneath me. Placing my hands on him, on his skin and muscles, was more intimate and personal than having fucked him. I was feeling the man under my touch, feeling him as he moved, feeling each muscle body flex and bulge, literally feeling him speak and moan beneath me. My cock throbbed between the high, proud arches of his newly-grown buttocks, sliding in the slick sweat of his workout and transformation.
And his smell - it rose in the heat of his form, like scented oils warmed by flame. I lifted my hands to my face and smelled him on my palms, as if he were releasing the pure essence of masculine power through his very pores and it clung to me, wanting entrance inside my own body. I slid on his thighs with my ass and moved my hard-on between his butt cheeks, feeling him squeezing me in the muscled vice.
Now it was my turn to moan. Jesus, the power. The pure, rock-hard, unending, overwhelming power of the beast beneath me. Gazing on his back, wide and bulging with brawn, I nearly came. “Please,” he groaned softly, “please don’t stop.”
I pushed my palms unto his glorious skin again and grasped the masses of muscles that perched upon his shoulders. So thick, so hard, so strong. I felt him flex and shudder with pleasure at my inexpert touch, and I leaned in and moved my hands under the wealth of his dark mane to massage his scalp. His hair was warm and soft, clinging to my fingers like fur, so fine and dark and lustrous. Jesus, everything about him had been improved, and I had seen it happening before me.
I moaned as I remembered the sensation of his growth and he moaned in unison, maybe through our bond, maybe because of my touch, and maybe both. He felt good because I liked feeling him. I felt good because he felt good. It was a cycle of pleasure through touch alone, more intimate by far than thrusting my cock up his ass.
“So good,” he repeated softly.
He was hard everywhere, but with a subtle pliancy. His skin was slick with sweat and...whatever else he was pumping out that contained that intoxicating scent that I was beginning to think I never wanted to be without. I moved my hands to his thick, broad neck and tried to rub my thumbs at the cords of muscle aligning his spine. I rubbed my cock between his butt muscles and felt another load of hot cream building within me. “Ah, fuck,” I whispered, softly, unable to contain my lust from audibly manifesting.
“You gonna cum?” he asked. He could feel me in the bond, and I could sense his own pleasure building in concert with the pressure building in my balls and throbbing in my hard dick.
I could hardly answer him. It felt so good with his huge muscular form beneath me, sliding my cock between his butt mounds, rubbing the sweaty crevasse with the tender, sensitive underside of my thickness. “Jesus,” I said. My body shuddered and I began to lose control.
“Cum on me,” he asked. “I want to feel your heat all over my back. I want to feel your bliss made real across my muscles.”
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I was supposed to be delivering him pleasure, but everything about him as I rode atop him, from the massive bulges of power to the silky smoothness of his skin to that perfume of masculine musk assailing my senses was turning me on harder than ever. I rode the steed below me, feeling the size and hardness and strength of his muscles in the grip of my hands, rubbing my cock into the deep, hot, wetness between his butt mounds and I was going to cum. I could feel it. I was so close.
“Cum,” he said.
I did. I came. As if his word was my release, as if his command was all I needed, I felt my cock jerk and swell and spit out a fat, thick stream of white cream that arced and splattered onto his sweet, sweaty flesh. I came hard, pushing it from my balls, sitting up and thrusting my dick forward. I started to rock back and forth, sliding my spitting serpent between his meaty hemispheres, and he started to flex and tighten the vice against my hardness. I fucked the tight chute he had created and came over and over, unloading everything I had all over his wide, bulging back.
He sighed and moaned as if I was cumming inside him, or fucking his hole. As if even this was pleasure enough to satisfy his deep needs and heavy desires, feeling my cum shower down upon him like lava, knowing that I was achieving orgasm using his body as my tool, even as my goal was to pleasure him. His muscles bulged and flexed, making my cream swim around the masses like a river through a mountain range. He groaned and squirmed as if he were having the orgasm himself.
“Ah, fuck,” I said, as my fountains finally subsided and he was coated in my creamy, sticky mess. I moved my hand into the wealth of slippery cum and coated his skin with my load as he moaned in evident ecstasy.
“Feels good,” he said again, as if this was the equal to the massage. “Wish I could’ve watched you.”
“You’ll have your chance, I’m almost positive.”
“You’ve got more in your balls for me?”
For him. He wanted my cum. He wanted it all. “Turn over,” I instructed, lifting myself and my dripping prick off his body as he pivoted beneath me.
I had nearly forgotten how beautiful he was. Not just his face, but the whole of him. His back, his shoulders, his ass were all testament to his strength and power, but now that I was looking at his face, at his chest and stomach and arms - god, he was magnificent. He smiled up at me and reached forward, stroking my hard prick to gather what was left of my load into his hand and then licking it off, closing his eyes and sucking my cream from the ends of his strong fingers. He kept his blue eyes locked onto mine, and I could see in them as well as feel through our connection how much he enjoyed this. The sound of him licking and sucking my cream off his fingers was making me hard all over again, as if that were possible after releasing yet another thick load all over him.
His body was a roadmap of power. The muscle bulged in thick mounds, perfectly developed and beautifully displayed. Every muscle was its partner’s perfect match, and there was absolutely no imperfection to my eyes in the manner in which he had grown bigger and stronger. I felt his mammoth cock throb under my ass, reminding me of his growth there as well, and the frightening size he had attained.
He licked his lips and stated, “Don’t be afraid, I can’t hurt you.”
“I’m afraid that I want you to,” I stated, because it was true.
He smiled. My heart flipped over and a sudden heat enveloped me. “Whatever you desire,” he said. “Just tell me. I can do anything.”
Anything. Anything I desired. He would - and could - do it. My mind started spinning, weaving fantasies into this reality, using him any way that I wanted to, and allowing him to use me, too. “I...”
But my thought was interrupted by the house monitor. Her soft, emotionless voice stated, “You have an incoming audio-only call from Confidential Companions, ‘a limited liability corporation specializing in providing the finest augmented intimate associates available.’ Do you wish to accept?”
Damn. I should’ve counted on this. Of course there’d be some kind of alarm that would go off if one of their models started behaving in a manner inconsistent with protocol. “One moment,” I said, testily. I looked at him, into those pools of bright blue, and said, “It’s your boss.”
His eyes went blank again, and he started to state, “I have not received the required conditioning and indoctrinations concerning my improvements and augmented capabilities. There is a possibility of physical repercussions or anatomical association with a partner....”
“Jesus, this is getting tiresome.” I lifted myself from his ungodly physical perfection and sighed. “All right, connect the call, please.”
“Call is commencing,” she said, and then another feminine voice was entering my home through several of the speakers hidden in the walls. “Good evening, this is Confidential Companions. It appears that the Companion that was assigned to you this evening has experienced an unscheduled revision.”
I looked down at him, all two meters and something like 135 kilos of him, sprawled out on my large bed, with every muscle pumped to perfection, his mammoth prick throbbing with dull need against his 8-pack abs, and a blank look on his handsome visage. “You could say that,” I agreed.
“Please accept our apologies. A credit to your account will be made within 24 hours. A transport is on its way to your location to...”
“I don’t want a transport. I don’t want a credit. I don’t want him picked up.”
“...provide a replacement... Excuse me, sir?”
“I said I don’t want him picked up and I don’t want a replacement.” His chest was rising and falling slowly. He was staring straight ahead, toward the ceiling. His prick was refusing to subside, and I could see a thin spider-silk thread of pre oozing from its tip.
“The... the replacement is free of charge and....”
“I don’t care. I don’t want a replacement, I want him.”
“Sir, I understand your desire. Our companions are the best available and I’m sure you have been completely satisfied, but let me assure you that the replacement....”
“Why does he need to be replaced?”
“Sir? The model....”
“Unscheduled revisions, whatever. Why the fuck does he need to be replaced? I want this model.”
There was a pause, and then she stated, “There is a possibility of physical repercussions or anatomical association with a partner or partners imparted via the bond and sexual activity.” Now, where had I heard this before? “This is a very real risk due to instability in the form following morphosis for a period of 24 to 48 hours. Any evolution of augmentations or amplifications, occurring prior to or during a session, may impart unforeseen side effects to one or both parties.”
“Yeah, he already told me that, but what does that mean?”
“Um, there... there is a possibility of physical reper...”
“May I speak to your supervisor, please?”
“Sir, I assure you....”
“May I speak to your supervisor? Please?” I hoped that my voice was carrying the level of my irritation well.
“Certainly, sir. Can you hold for a moment?”
I sighed dramatically. “Yes,” I answered. There was silence, except for the storm’s rage. Apparently, the model in my bed had an off switch or something, at least as far as his recognition of me was concerned. His cock continued to throb and ooze, and I was sorely tempted to climb back aboard and start lapping up all that honey that was going to waste, drizzling into the creases between his abdominal bulges when a male voice entered the room. “May I help you, sir?” he asked.
“Look, I realize that you people fucked up. I appreciate that you’re trying to make things right, but I’m the client, here, am I not?”
“Of course, sir.”
He had a very commanding voice. It reminded me of the naked man on my bed. Maybe they weren’t applying all their augmentations and amplifications to the companions. “I do not want nor will I accept a replacement. I paid for this model - this specific model - and I intend...”
“I’m afraid we must reclaim that Companion, sir. I apologize for any...inconvenience. Please be assured that the replacement model will more than meet your specifications, and we have taken the liberty to upgrade you to a Level 5. I’m sure that you’ll....”
“A Level 5?” I looked at the Level 4 in my bed, at the absolute perfection of form and the superhuman size and beauty, the jaw-dropping face with its strong chin and handsome features. Jesus, how much better could things get? “How many Levels are there?”
“Level 7 is our top model,” he replied. “But I’m sure that you’ll be more than satisfied with....”
“I don’t want a replacement.” I didn’t fucking care how gorgeous the next model was. I wanted this one. I wanted... I needed to see how this would all turn out.
“Sir, there is a very real danger....”
“I’ll sign anything you want me to,” I stated. I knew how this worked. I knew how it always worked. As long as I agreed to sign on the dotted line and absolve the company from my personal choices, they’d let me get away with anything.
“I feel it’s necessary to impart to you, sir, that there is a very real...”
“Yes, you’ve done that. He’s done that. Your underling did that, too. I get the message. Just forward whatever legal mumbo-jumbo you need for my signature, and you’ll have it.”
Another long pause. I assumed that he was either looking over his alternatives or asking someone even higher up than he was about the legalities, here. But, fucking hell, he was little better than a pimp. This was just fucking ridic...
My doorbell rang. The replacement was evidently already here. I looked at the man on my bed, his huge cock, his muscles, his face, I remembered us together, the sound of his voice, the feel of his arms around me, that scent he was giving off filled the room.
And fuck, was I horny.
“Hello?”
“One moment sir.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Pardon me?”
“I want them both.”
Another long pause. “I... I’m sure you realize that there will be an additional charge to your account.”
“Why? You were going to issue me the replacement, anyway. Why should I have to pay....”
“The terms of the original contract called for a single Companion, Level 3, model, uh... model M-A-slash-P-six-five. I’m sure you can see that the terms must be altered if you plan on upgrading to a Level 5, plus the Level 4 currently in your possession.”
“Look, this isn’t my fault. I didn’t fuck up, you did.”
“Sir, I assure you that we never intended....”
“Do you want to make this right? I think if you check your records you’ll see that you’ve made quite a dent in my bank accounts over the years.”
“Of course, sir.”
“I don’t think you want to lose such a valuable - and may I add, well-connected - client over something as trivial as this.”
“No, sir,” he answered.
“How would it benefit you if I switched to using Intimate Associates, or Private Liaisons? I’m sure either of them would be most happy to....”
“Sir, I’m sure that our competitors would indeed be happy to have your business, but I think if you check our roster of talent, you’ll find that we offer an incomparable line-up...”
“I’m sure you think you have something special,” I said, but looking at the man sprawled naked on my bed I had to admit that I would be hard-pressed to think of anything that could improve on him. “But keeping me happy this evening would go a hell of a lot farther in my satisfaction with your services than offering another perusal of your catalog.”
“Sir, I want to assure you that our....”
“I want them both.”
“Sir, I really must caution against that. It’s inadvisable for a single person to... how can I put this?”
“We both know what I plan on doing with these models, so don’t mince words with me.”
“A Level 5 is... the Level 4 model is designed to be the utmost Companion for an evening alone. We don’t recommend... we advise against... sir, a Level 5 is not usually provided for one-on-one activities, they are designed for group activities and for parties with more... unique desires. We made an exception in your case due to the unusual circumstances, but... sir...”
“Quit dancing around and just spit it out.”
“No single person, no matter how...experienced they may be, will be able to handle both a Level 4 - particularly a newly upgraded model - and a Level 5 at the same time. I admire your... vigor, but...”
“Let me worry about that,” I said. I was growing tired of all these warnings and advisories, as if I was some child or inexperienced virgin wandering into a den of randy pirates. “I want them both.”
Another long pause. “We can agree to your... request, sir, if you would kindly sign the release I’m forwarding to you now concerning the accidental... excuse me, the unscheduled revision to model MA-P65, as well as an addendum concerning your request to personally retain both models for the evening.” The doorbell rang again. “We will amend your original contract at no additional expense to you as a thank you for being a loyal and long-term client of Confidential Companions.”
“Thanks. And now can you... turn him back on, or whatever it is you do?”
“Of course, sir, if you’ll just return the signed release form?”
Oh, bloody hell! “Yes, yes, just a minute.” Doorbell again. I went to the monitor on my desk and swiped the screen to wake it up. My inbox was pulsing with a soft blue glow, and pinching it open, I scanned for the message from the company containing the all-powerful release form. The doorbell sounded once more, and I told the house, “Please inform the guest at the front door that I’ll be with them momentarily!” Then I opened the release, fingered my signature on the screen in the space provided and sent it on its way.
“Is that satisfactory?”
“Quite,” the man’s deep voice responded. “Once again, may I thank you for your continued patronage and I hope you have an enjoyable evening.”
“Thanks,” I said. “End connection.”
I turned around and he was up on his elbows, looking at me. It made his abs pop in a most absurd fashion and the sheer breadth and size of his chest and the two fat nipples mounted there made me gasp in sudden surprise.
“Hi,” he said, smiling. “Let’s fuck.”
He was a long, tall, warm drink of pure sex. His eyes once again sparkled with life, and his cock was hard and pulsing and ready to be sucked, drooling a thick string of precum onto his rippled belly. My own cock throbbed in response, and I sucked a heavy dose of his masculine scent into my lungs.
“Hold that thought,” I said. “And don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
There was a Level 4 in my bed, with something dangerous and risky awaiting us. I could feel our bond strongly, and it felt like he did. He was happy, and horny, and very confident. He wanted me badly, and I felt his desire rising when his gaze locked upon my naked ass as I left him behind in the bedroom and moved through my darkened home toward the front door.
Someone was waiting outside. Someone very large. Lightning flashed in the sky, outlining his massive form, and thunder rumbled deeply. I stood in the foyer of my home, before the entrance, and said, “Open.” The door slid sideways with a whisper, revealing the size and shape of my new guest.
“Hello,” the man said, and his voice penetrated me like a hard cock against my prostate. “I believe you’re expecting me.”
The Level 5 Companion reached out to me, placing his hand - warm, soft, strong - around my neck and pulling me towards his huge body, covered in a navy blue suit complete with a pressed white shirt and perfectly knotted tie. Then he bent his lips to mine and kissed me like no one had ever kissed me before.
I came.