Augmentations 10
by AKA
Have you ever smelled power? An odd question, to be sure, but as I passed the threshold of the doorway on my right, the entrance to the realm of Dominion, my nostrils suddenly stung with a pungent, almost aggressive and most definitely masculine aroma.
No, more than scent, it was the sensation of power, and of a distinctly male power. The sensation that might overcome one when encountering another man whose appearance, demeanor, stance - their very presence in the room with you assails your own sense of masculinity and somehow transmits to you that they are now the dominant force in the room, and that your eyes will forever be drawn to them, and your cock will rise and swell and throb when they are near, as if they can command that of you.
It coated my naked flesh. It swam into my eyes like sweat. It trickled down the gap between my ass cheeks. It reached out to me and shook me with a palpable, physical force.
It was as if the very room itself held the distillation of masculine strength in its air. I could physically feel the manifestation of power, of might, of domination and utter muscular perfection.
I nearly swooned. It was massive, and its effects were sudden and overwhelming.
“What is that?” I managed to ask.
“It is what you will become,” 5 said.
The room itself was simple in its decor and presentation. The same chocolate brown walls, the same dark crimson carpet, the same soft lighting. At the center of the room, three bright red circles were demarcated on the carpet, forming a triangle. The ceiling was 20 or 25 feet overhead, and gathered in shadows.
I paused to collect myself, or as much as I was able. The effects of the silver vial still played havoc with my libido and senses, as I continued to adjust to its demands. Colors were growing more distinct. When I was touched by either of my companions, my skin tingled with deep sensuality, as if coated in something that enhanced the sexual nature of skin on skin, no matter where that skin was located. My cock demanded attention, simply be existing between my legs like some thousand-ton weight filled with hundreds of gallons of cum that wanted to explode out in a thick, unending fountain.
Now, the sensations of the Dominion room were adding to the effects.
What I will become.
Becoming something else - something more. “How does it work?”
“It is a three-stage process,” 5 explained, as he indicated the three circles on the floor of the room. “And then your body will need training to realize its new potential. There will be some lingering and unavoidable after-effects, but nothing….”
“What kind of after-effects?”
“You body will be forced to grow in order to support the mass and burden your augmented musculature will place on it.”
“Like when you changed?” I asked 4.
He nodded. “This body increased in size to accommodate Level 4 status.” It remained odd to me whenever he fell back on speech that seemed more computer than man. “Your body must endure the same.” I didn’t like that word, ‘endure,’ but I supposed it was an honest assessment, based on what was supposed to happen.
5 continued, “Some, if not all, of that growth will be permanent. It cannot be undone, nor will its effects lessen with time.”
“So, I’m about to get bigger.” They both nodded. “How much bigger?”
“Difficult to assess. Each body is different, as I said,” 5 repeated. “If you’re worried about this, perhaps another of the choices would better suit….”
“I’m not worried, as such,” I lied. The prospect of being bigger wasn’t entirely unattractive, but I wasn’t planning on undergoing such a drastic change when this night began. “What else?”
“The effects of the chemical process may not entirely diminish.”
“What does each stage do?”
5 gestured at the first circle. As he did so, the circle rose up from the floor and revealed itself to be the top of a circular chamber of some sort, surrounded in glass or transparent plastic. The floor was shiny, silver metal with grates in it. The chamber was otherwise sealed. “Stage One will surround you in a femtobot cloud.” Femtobots! Jesus! “As you may be aware, these are molecular synthetics small enough to penetrate your skin’s cell structure.”
On top of that and what he didn’t say was that this was an hellaciously expensive little procedure he was so cavalierly proposing! Femtobots were cutting-edge - no, bleeding-edge - no, whatever is beyond bleeding, this is what they were. Nanobots were in common usage everywhere, and picobots could be found in medical facilities and military labs performing some crazy shit. Femtobots were even smaller than that, and nearly impossible to manufacture in numbers that made them practical for use.
Yet, 5 was saying that that was exactly what would happen to me inside that chamber.
“Stage Two?” I asked, looking at the second circle.
He continued, “Once inside your body, the bots will be programmed to infiltrate, correct and augment the processes necessary to attain your chosen amplification. They will only perform the duties assigned to them by our proprietary software, and your system will flush them out in the usual manner.”
So I’d piss or shit or sweat them out. After all these billions of teeny tiny synthetics had access to everything inside me.
“They will then break down and begin to rebuild your entire structure from the inside out. You will retain all that is essential about your appearance, but your skeletal structure will be expanded, your internal organs will be enhanced to support the additional blood flow and pressure, and your skin will be increased to cover the new growth of muscle. I’m afraid this process is likely to be somewhat...painful.”
“Somewhat?”
“The bots will attempt to mitigate some of that pain by pumping up delivery of dopamine and other receptors, but they cannot at this time fully compensate.”
“And this is the part that stays with me?”
“Yes. Your new size will be permanent, and I’m afraid we will not know what that size is until the process completes.”
“I see. And the last stage?”
“You will emerge from the second chamber in your amplified state, but you will not be fully developed. In the third chamber, chemical composites will be introduced. You probably sensed some of their lingering effects when you entered. The chems will also penetrate your body and enhance certain biological processes, artificially heightening your Alpha Male status and allowing your muscles to develop following stimulation at a greatly accelerated rate.”
“Stimulation?”
4 said, “Like when you allowed me to use your weights.”
“Ah,” I said, understanding. The bots could only do so much. It was up to me to push my new muscles to their ultimate potential with good old-fashioned weight lifting. “And I assume the chems are similarly flushed from my system over time.”
5 nodded again. “Along with their enhancements. While you’re enjoying your amplified body, your muscles will be approximately ten-times stronger than they would appear.”
“Ten times?”
He smiled. “I hope that is adequate. After your system has eliminated the femtobot and chemical treatments, your muscles will function at a normal human magnitude for their size.”
“And their size…?”
“Again, that is up to your body and to you. Once you begin to stimulate growth and strength, your muscles will increase to accommodate your desires - but only to a certain point. We endeavor always to maintain our guests’ original physical aspect and avoid an unnatural appearance. Your muscles will only grow as large as your newly expanded body will consummately accommodate. Once the muscle tissue is developed, you will not lose it. It is part of you.”
I took a deep breath, only now realizing the full extent of what my companions were proposing.
I looked at the first chamber. That sensation of ultimate male dominance in the room was filling my head with the desire to hold it within me, to feel what that power was like coursing through me, and to realize a dream or a fantasy of becoming a man more powerful and stronger than anyone else alive.
How large would I become? I stood a hair over six-feet tall in my stocking feet. The Level 4 was about a half-foot taller than I was, and outweighed me by several dozen pounds. The Level 5 was taller even than 4, and outweighed him by a fairly substantial amount, just based on looking at them. Would I get that big? What would it be like walking around in a nearly seven-foot frame? What would having muscles like that feel like?
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
“If you would care to step into the first chamber?” Half of the chamber’s cylindrical walls swung open and I stepped inside, naked and a bit afraid of what I had agreed to.
The door closed and I thought, weirdly, about Captain America, standing inside his own little metal chamber and being changed into some superhero. No such comic book adventures were likely to await me - unless they involved tons of sex with men like the two standing outside this chamber looking at me.
My ears popped as the chamber was sealed. I supposed it wouldn’t make very good economic sense to allow femtobots to start swimming around outside. Those little suckers were expensive!
I felt a warmth on the soles of my feet and realized that the cloud was already entering the chamber with me. They were so small that there was nothing to see. The cloud, as they called it, was more like warm air that was being pumped inside. I looked at the palms of my hands to see if I could discern any difference, or see the little scamps penetrating my flesh. But I could see nothing at all, and all I felt were the lingering effects of the silver vial still playing on my senses and libido.
After a few moments, the chamber was filled with a kind of vacuum also emanating from beneath my feet as the air was sucked out and circulated with fresh - or so I imagined. It all happened with speedy efficiency, and I though that if I had been paying for this, I’d be quite satisfied so far.
Assuming, of course, that anything had actually happened.
The door opened and I stepped out. “That’s it?”
“Stage One is complete.”
The first chamber sunk back into the floor as the second one rose out of it, like pistons. It was a mirror image of the first, without the grated floor. This time, the floor was matte black, like a cooking surface, but otherwise the chamber appeared to mirror the first one. A door opened in the same manner and I stepped inside.
I looked around wondering how much of this space my body was going to occupy when this stage was completed. My heart was beating quite quickly in anticipation of the level of pain that 5 had mentioned, and I started having second thoughts when the floor became quite warm against my feet and I felt a kind of current start to pass through me, as if I were being subtly electrocuted. I tensed involuntarily in preparation for my growth.
The first thing that happened was that I began to feel sleepy, or high, or a little of both. Vaguely, I thought, ‘this must be what dopamine does.’ Not that I had a clue about that, since I wasn’t a chemistry major and couldn’t have cared less about how my brain worked.
My breathing became a bit labored, though I couldn’t say why. And then a tremendous heat, as if I had been shoved into a sauna turned up past boiling, erupted everywhere, both inside my body and all across my skin. I grimaced and pinched my eyes and balled my hands into fists.
The heat did not abate. In fact, if anything, it grew stronger. Hotter and hotter, everywhere, until I thought I might melt, and then a sensation of pain unlike anything I have ever felt started in my joints.
My wrists, elbows, shoulders, hips, ankles, anywhere one bone joined the other in a socket of cartilage erupted in sharp pangs of intense pain. Each knuckle on my hand. The bones in my spine. My littlest toes. Everywhere along the joints it felt as if they were all being broken simultaneously.
My blood was boiling. I could not open my eyes. The pain was excruciating.
Then it began to spread, to crawl up and down my arms and legs, to surround my ribcage, my very skull became to throb, feeling as if every bone were being crushed or inflated, and possibly both at the same time.
Pain. Nothing but pain. My body was being broken. Inch by inch. Cell by cell. Fractured, shattered, and reassembled.
The pain was a sweet agony, almost too much to bear. And then it began to abate and the heat returned. So much heat.
I opened my eyes. The two men were outside the chamber, watching me. I could not tell from their expressions what they were thinking. Maybe this was commonplace for them. Maybe they had gone through it themselves. Maybe they were simply dumbfounded to watch a man go through this.
I looked down at my naked body. It look emaciated. Bone-thin, literally. Stretched and misshapen. And heat. Molten, fiery heat everywhere.
As I watched. my chest began to swell outward. It was almost like watching bread rising, or the swelling of a balloon made of muscle and skin. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see my shoulders suddenly displaying their development. I could see them rising upwards, and I turned my face to watch the skin swell and the muscle grow.
I was growing. It was quite clear, now, and starting to happen everywhere and with increasing speed.
The pain lingered. The heat was intense, I lifted my right arm and watched muscle growing under the skin. It reached along the limb from elbow to wrist, and I could see the fibers growing into cables. Veins popped all along the sinew, pumping blood into the growing tissue.
Now I could start to feel the weight of my pectoral shelf. I looked down again and watched the two swelling globes of brawn distend outward from my body. I felt a thrill of sexual bliss watching my body growing. I wondered if my cock would also get bigger, even though it contained neither bone nor muscle. Would it be out of proportion to the rest of my mighty new form? I hoped sincerely not.
But I could’t even see it. My chest was enormous, now. Huge with thick meat that continued to multiply and swell as I watched it.
Everything began to feel heavy, to take on an unfamiliar sensation of intense size and heft and thickness. My chest was a cumbersome shelf of glorious power. I lifted my hand and cupped the muscle, smiling as I could feel myself growing into my larger grip.
I wanted a mirror so I could watch myself grow. I could feel it, certainly, and could see it when I looked at myself, but I wondered what I looked like to the two men standing outside, who could watch my whole body growing bigger and stronger and mightier by the second as kilo after kilo of fresh muscle grew on my extended frame.
The heat began to diminish. I sensed that Stage Two was slowing. I had no idea how long I had spent in the capsule, the intense pain and heat obliterated my sense of time. Had it been minutes or hours? And how large was I now? How much more did I weigh?
The heat grew dimmer and the floor beneath my feet cooled. The chamber door opened and I could feel the cool air from the room coat my new, naked body.
I stepped forward.
“Well,” 5 said, “we know one thing for certain.”
“What?” I said. My voice was now lower, my vocal chords stretched and rebuilt with the rest of my new, larger form. Would my home and car still recognize me now?
“Your body is quite welcoming of amplification.”
I realized that I was looking at 5 eye-to-eye. I was easily his equal in height, if not a bit taller that that. 4 was now shorter than I, but all I felt in the bond - at least, that had not been erased during my upgrade - was the familiar emotions of love and desire. If anything, 4 wanted me even more now.
I almost felt that I could stop where I was. I was huge. A feeling of dominance came with that realization. Size mattered after all. But even as I felt that initial sensation, 5 said, “Turn around,” and I did so quite eagerly, realizing that I was no more in charge of him now than before I stepped into the capsule. Perhaps he was used to men like me. Or maybe he intended to prove the very point that he was making - that I wasn’t yet finished, and that there was more to come.
He gazed on my new naked majesty with a discerning eye, examining me like a doctor might, checking that all was in place and everything was operating properly. But when he grunted a startlingly satisfying endorsement of my body, providing an undeniable sense of lust for what he saw before him, I could feel my cock start to throb.
My cock! How big was…?
I looked down and smiled. They really had thought of everything. Even my cock was larger, and was no doubt in perfect proportion - according to whomever kept track of such things - to the rest of my growth. It was a thick, meaty pole, and the effects of the silver vial were still playing with it.
But everything felt good, now. Everything throbbed with sex. I felt heavy, and a bit ponderous. It was going to take some getting used to, being this large.
And still no mirror! I ached to see myself as these men did. I wanted to gaze upon my new size and strength, but there was still a third act to perform.
The second chamber sank as the third rose, again. As expected, it looked just like the first two, with the same slotted metal floor as capsule one possessed, no doubt to flush away the excess chemicals once my ultimate metamorphosis was complete.
The door opened, and I was overcome with the same sensation that had permeated the room, now much stronger from inside the third capsule. Whatever the chemical process was, I had no doubts of its success. Frankly, if the thing were a man I would have bowed down before it in supplication and begged to suck its cock. I would have craved its notice, or a single word of praise from its beautiful mouth, or its deign to touch a small portion of its flesh and experience orgasmic bliss.
My cock rose up like some begging dog. It throbbed heavily, and swelled to hardness in record time.
I stepped inside. The door closed behind me.
This time, there was a cloud inside with me. It smelled of raw sex. It reeked with the power of men. Beyond its incredibly masculine redolence, as if someone had managed to extract, distill and purify the essence of male supremacy, it was suffused with power.
Beyond mere muscular power. Beyond the sensation and excitement of sexual power. This was what it must be like to be god. To know that others want to be with you, and will do whatever you ask of them, purely because of who you are.
Power. Might. Strength. Force. The purest form of masculine dominion entered me, and became me.
The capsule drained.
The door opened.
4 and 5 dropped to one knee before me, bowing their heads awaiting my command. I watched their muscles swell beneath their flawless skin, as they attempted to overcome my dominance with a show of force and size, but they could not win. This was no contest.
“Uh,” I said, “you can get up.”
They rose as one, keeping heads bowed. The feeling of pure power was overwhelming.
But was this an act? Could I truly be dominating them so easily and completely? “What’s next?” I asked.
“Sir,” 5 said, “If I may suggest, you might wish to enter the stimulation room, so that you may attain the full and glorious pinnacle of your godhood.”
Wow. That was laying it on a bit thick. “Okay,” I said, “lead on.”
“Yes, sir,” 5 replied. Both men turned and we walked to the opposite end of the room where another door opened and the awaited on either side of that door for me to pass through.
The room beyond at last fulfilled my wish for a mirror, because it was nothing but mirrors. A circular room lined with my reflection, and everywhere I looked I was gazing on my newly grown form.
My god. Oh, my god.
I was…I was….
“He is overcome,” I heard 4 say behind me.
“As he should be,” 5 agreed.
I was. I was overcome. I was overcome by my own reflection. I had not anticipated - had not imagined that I could look like that. Like this. Like I look, now.
Muscle. More than anything. I see muscle. It presses thickly outward in beautiful and perfectly developed lobes and globes and wedges and cables. It is everywhere on my naked body. It flares in broad wings along my thighs. It bulges in fat loaves on my upper arms. My chest is a collection of squared, broad plates of raw, thick, magnificent brawn. My belly is lined in perfect rows of bulging abs, like a cobblestone street or a carton of eggs.
I have muscle now that I never knew possible. Muscle bulging in its ultimate glorious perfection. Arching across my shoulders, Flaring wide from my neck. When I lift my arms to push the biceps into hard glory, fat wings of power unfold beneath my arms and widen my upper body to mind-blowing proportions.
Muscle. Muscle and muscle and muscle. I move my hands across the bulging planes of this new body and realize that I am feeling myself, that all that muscle I see in the mirrors belongs to me, I am wearing it like armor, and it is beautiful and awesome and powerful.
I am beautiful and awesome and powerful.
In the center of the room is a large machine, or contraption. There is a kind of seat within its many armatures and cables and hydraulics. It is large, larger even than I am - which I find hard to believe now that I see myself - and made of shining silver and dark black plastic and rubber. It looks like a cross between a torture device and some kind of engine. Cables run from its core towards floor where they are plugged into outlets and computer terminals. It sits quietly and unmoving, awaiting its next victim.
As I approach it, a fan of laser light reaches towards me, bathing my huge frame in sharp blue light. “What’s that?” I ask.
“Calibrations, sir. In order to optimize performance and help you to create your perfect form, the machine is taking intricate measurements of your present dimensions. As you progress toward total dominance, the machine will ensure that no muscle outsizes its brother - each biceps will be exactly as large as its opposite - and that your total mass of muscle is balanced to an aesthetic perfection according to your own physique.”
“It will hinder my growth?”
“It will...refine it, sir. As a master sculptor refines the depiction of perfect beauty from a mass of marble.”
“An artist, then?”
“As you say, sir. The machine will help you achieve dominion, but not at the price of perfection.” 5 asked, “If sir would deign to turn around, so that the machine can get the most accurate measurements of your entire body, I’m sure sir will be better pleased with his results.”
Perfection. Perfect muscle. Perfect power. That sounded good. I pivoted in place, gracing the laser eyes with the view of my other side, and the roadmap of bulging muscle spread across my back, and the two mounds of hard meat jutting from my new, muscular ass.
The light died as suddenly as it had appeared, and I moved within the machine, poised on the odd bicycle seat within it. My new, larger cock beats a drumbeat against my bulging abs. My two companions approach me and begin strapping me in, applying probes and monitors, and setting my hands on a set of handles and my feet into stirrups. I am more or less suspended within the machine, now, and understand its purpose innately.
This is what I will use to build up my power. These pulleys and harnesses and restraints will train my muscles. I will flex and press and push to make my power increase. The machine will monitor my progress, adjusting its myriad muscle-building mechanisms to optimize my ever-increasing strength and size, increasing pressure here, decreasing it there, until I am satisfied and my new, powerful, incredible body has reached its ultimate potential - whatever that may be.
Ten times the strength? I already look like I could bench press Cleveland. How much stronger am I liable to become? How much power will be coursing through these larger muscles? And how much larger can I get?
I begin to exercise, if that is the right word. Every muscle is in use simultaneously. The machine is optimized for this purpose - to create the ultimate man in the shortest time possible. My improved body has also been optimized for this purpose, to push itself beyond normal boundaries for stress and muscle exhaustion, so that my power will grow at a mind-bending pace.
It feels good. I can feel my strength growing, even in the first minutes.
I flex my arms and the biceps sing with beautiful pain, swelling into mighty rounded balls of hard brawn.
I bend my knees and push my legs, and the muscles of my ass and thighs burn and bulge.
I move the handles over my shoulders and push upwards, and am rewarded with a surging sense of growth and power across my shoulders.
I push forwards and the two massive globes of my chest burn and swell and reveal the bands of power beneath my flesh.
What the tiny 'bots are doing inside me, I don't know or care, only that it is making me stronger with every passing moment. I can see it happening. I can feel it.
Bigger. Stronger. More powerful than anyone.
I watch the size of my body start to increase, again. I watch veins pop under the smooth, perfect flesh. I watch muscle fibers growing and multiplying. I watch my skin stretch to accommodate the renewed development.
There are no measurements I can see. I have no idea how much weight I am managing. Hundreds of kilos? Thousand? The machine knows, and it increases it in increments to keep up with my growth in strength and size, monitoring everything about my body as I develop myself.
It is intoxicating. The stronger I become, the stronger I wish to grow. I watch the muscles on my arm bulge larger, still, and can see new fibers and cables of brawn stretching along the existing muscle. I am growing. My muscle is expanding. I can see it physically swelling beneath my glistening, sweat-coated skin.
Minutes pass. I work at it constantly. The sensation of power suffuses every fiber of this body. I can feel myself growing stronger with every thrust, every pull, every flex. Bigger and bigger.
“You are approaching optimal development, sir,” 5 tells me. “Your body’s peak performance and ultimate power is moments away.”
I am straining, now, to push the machine. It is fighting back with increasing power. Sweat coats every inch of my naked flesh. My heart beats in my mighty chest. I grit my teeth and clench my ass and push...push...push one last time.
There is a great huffing of air as the hydraulics release and the clang of metal on metal as I relax at last. My body is pulsing with power, like a sun. I feel every muscle keenly. My skin is ruddy and slick.
I stand and withdraw from the machine that has transformed me utterly into something beyond man. I look at my reflection in the wall of mirrors.
Utter muscular perfection. Muscle beyond muscle.
I flex my arm, watching the cables swell and form new valleys. I raise both arms to perform a double-bi and watch the swollen majesty of my muscles increase until the behemoths are trembling to hold in all the power they contain.
I don’t know how to pose this collection of brawn. I try a few positions, mimicking the old time bodybuilders and watch in awe of myself as the brawn bulges and builds and pushes against my skin.
Muscle beyond muscle.
My companions are on one knee again. Worshiping me. The unstoppable, ultimate paragon of masculine muscular perfection.
I realize that my domination is not merely physical. I have a soaring sense of self-confidence and, yes, perhaps arrogance about myself. I expect these men, now, to drop to one knee. I expect all men to do the same.
And I know that they will.
“Take me to them.” I announce my command in my new, powerful voice. It is deep and clear and supreme in tone, a voice of a god.
“Sir,” the companions answer, rising to their full heights before me.
I am swollen with power. It radiates outward from me. I can feel my muscle like a glorious burden. It feels as if hundreds of kilos of raw, hard, perfectly trained and developed brawn are bulging from every millimeter of my body. Is this arm 50 centimeters? 55? 60? I look down at my leg and tense its power and watch the muscle blooming outward, separating into massive loaves and wedges. My belly is a cobblestone street, and just as hard. I tighten my hand into a fist and know that I could push these fingers into a concrete wall and pulverize it to dust.
Power. Untamed, unlimited, absolute.
My cock is red hot, practically steaming, inflated to masterful glory with its insatiable need and overwhelming capability and unquenchable lust. It is as strong as the rest of me. Made not of flesh but of steel. Filled with the essence of my immeasurable masculine strength, ready to fountain copious blasts of hot, sticky cream in limitless jets of thick fulfillment.
I am no longer suffused in the red of passion. I am not even of the same golden hues as my companion. I glow white now. Pure, perfect, godlike.
I know what comes next. I can feel them, I can smell them, each inside my head - the brethren - in Elysium. I can sense the men I will dominate with my power and perfection. Perfect men, augmented in every way possible, Level 4s and 5s and 6s. Even a Level 7. They await my arrival.
They await my glory.