Augmentations 14
by AKA
So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him.
Remember that? It’s from Genesis. Book one, chapter twenty-seven to be exact. It could be taken literally, I suppose, though I tend to view it in more universal terms. The image of God is the being of God, not simply the appearance. Why does a god need to look like anything? Why is there a need for a god at all?
Churches continue to preach their versions of truth, though their congregations are shrinking. Maybe humanism grows in power because humans do. Haven’t we become the new gods? Creating others in our own image, except now we’re making them better.
Better looking. Better performing. More powerful. Stronger. Sexier. Pumping the volume up to eleven on the human scale of ten. Amplified and augmented until anything we consider unworthy or tainted can be brushed aside, and everything we honor and worship and venerate can be supplemented or honed to a perfect edge.
Then we ask them to serve us.
If there is a god, is he angry and vengeful, or loving and forgiving? If you ask me, he couldn’t give a shit about any of us. I mean, wasn’t that the whole point? Creating us, giving us life, then setting us up on this world and telling us “go for it!” Freewill and all that. Do as you will, and do that to others, and share and be cool and happy and love each other, because why the hell not?
Seems easy. Harder in practice.
The usual sins rear their shaggy heads. Jealousy, greed, envy, pride, count them off on your fingers and you can probably think of someone to personify it. So we start to hate each other for what we don’t have, and want to hang on to all that we do.
But what if we could share everything without limits? What if I gave everything to you without expecting anything back? Would I be closer to god?
God’s image, if He had one, would be perfect. That’s pretty much agreed upon, but no one really considers what ‘perfection’ means. Without flaw? Maybe. Unable to make mistakes? I suppose that would make one perfect - unless that inability to make mistakes is only an inability to recognize them. I mean, come on, look around. Even if this is some god’s plan, a lot of it is pretty fucked up.
God, then. What is a god, and what does a god do? Does a god know he is a god? Does a god care?
I opened my eyes.
I came.
I watched the man before me come.
I watched his cock inflate with impossible speed, swelling and lengthening and turning deeply red. I watched veins wind along the centimeters of his mammoth cock and feed its growth to ultimate glory. I watched the head of his instrument bloom and grow shiny and then it was spitting a fat fountain of cream that shot directly at me and splattered in a dripping mass against the mirror, sounding almost like a rifle shot as it struck with its force.
I felt an orgasm of impossible size shake me. I felt the wealth of cream that my balls could produce speeding through the sizable shank of sex flesh between my legs and heard it emerge like liters of thick cream forced from a nozzle that was too small to allow its flow.
My cock was exploding because I was looking at myself. My own reflection has caused me to instantly and spontaneously orgasm so much cum that I was all but obliterating that reflection with it. My cock went from limp to hard in less than a second and started pushing my load up and out because I could not help myself.
I was panting and coated in sweat. My heart was racing. I was hornier than I had ever been in my life - and considering all that I had been through so far this night, that was no idle boast.
My initial blast was followed by several more as I tried to contain my utter bliss at the sight of my own reflection. I balled my hands into fists and squeezed my eyes shut and came and came and came, the initial reflection of my magnificence burned into my mind’s eye as I watched it happen over and over.
Me. There. Then...explosion. Bliss. Perfection.
It stopped eventually, though it felt as though I could go on with the orgasm forever. My cock stayed hard and throbbing, drooling a fat river of cum that ran down its impressive mass and clung to my balls. I could not see myself anymore in that section of mirror. I had come so much that I had coated it and...it looked like...but that couldn’t be, could it?
But I had. I had done it. I had cracked the mirror with my initial explosion. I came so hard that I managed to break it as if I had punched it with my fist.
I moved to one side of the dripping mess and tried to prepare myself again. I now knew what I looked like, so perhaps I could contain the power of my heightened sexual capabilities and not quite explode so completely again.
I turned, and watched him turn towards me in the mirror. The room smelled like sex. Maybe I smelled that way, too. I could see the aura that surrounded me, and it made me look angelic or godlike, a bright white glow radiating out like sun rays.
It was difficult, at first, to believe my own eyes. That’s a cliche, but in this case it was true. What I saw in the mirror before me was impossible. How could a man - how could a person - a human - look like that?
Like me?
That was me. In the mirror. My face. My body. My perfection.
I asked before what perfection was, but now I knew - I was looking at it. I was living inside it. Somehow, in some magical and unbelievable way, I had been changed utterly. Some combination of things both natural and artificial, something within me and something placed inside me had unified in a very physical demonstration of perfection.
It was stilll me. Particularly around the eyes and mouth. I licked my lips and watched the reflection of perfect masculine power do it, too. I moved my hand to wave at myself. My arm was massive - shockingly muscular and beautifully developed. I could feel the power coursing through it, ready to be unleashed at my whim.
I was very large. Very, very large. Whether or not that is an aspect of human perfection can be debated, but that’s the only way to describe me. If I were to walk into a room now, the first thing you would notice - should you be lucky enough to witness my arrival - would be my size. I would tower over you, and everyone, except perhaps for the tallest basketballers or the widest wide receivers or the heaviest heavyweight boxers.
And muscle. Lots of muscle. Perhaps a literal ton of it. Arranged onto my frame in a harmonious marriage, so that every one of them - and I could see every single one of them - was perfect in its development, size, shape and beauty.
This is what god meant when he designed man. This is what he aimed for. This is, without a single doubt, what god looks like.
I then simply stood there, unmoving, perhaps in shock at what I saw. I was almost afraid to move again, because that would destroy the illusion I saw before me. The entire mirror would shatter and I would no longer be able to gaze at the man there, and his face and body and muscles and cock.
My cock. I looked at my cock. No, I fucking stared at it, as my mouth began to water. Cock-hungry. Is that a word? It should be. I wanted to wrap my mouth around the thick shank of beautiful cock meat that I saw hanging so thick and lengthy from the center of my new, perfect body. I saw my arm move and my hand open and I took my cock into my hand and hefted its weight into my strong grip.
Again, I was assailed by stiff shocks of sex along every millimeter of my new cock. It weighed a fucking metric ton. It started to throb with a very potent need. The thing was a fucking monster. I was almost afraid of its beauty and power. I rubbed its head with the pad of my thumb, trying a tentative inspection and wondering how sensitive it was.
I nearly came again. And I knew I could have. I knew that I could make it rise to its ultimate glory and pump a rope of cream so rapturous and thick and ample that I would splatter the reflection of my perfection right off the mirror. I would feel my load travel up the several centimeters of its impressive thick shaft and hear it emerge from its mouth as if I had unleashed god’s own flood on the earth. I would fountain a heavy wealth of warm, thick, sticky cum and anyone I touched with it would start to change like I had.
He would become something more. Something better.
Something perfect.
I laid it gently back against me, almost trembling from the sheer depth of its power, and brushed my fingers along my fat, heavy ball sack, touching the source of holy evolution and ultimate masculine potency. I held it there, and made it, and would give it away in copious fountains through the dominance of my cock.
I raised my gaze to take in all of me. Still overwhelmed at the man I beheld there in the mirror.
I was at rest, but looked fully pumped and hard-flexed. I decided to test my new muscle, and raised my right arm, watching the play of muscle along its length, and bent it at the elbow, tightening my hand into a fist to drive the biceps - the long head and the short head, for I could discern both easily - and triceps and pronator and flexor and brachioradialis and other muscles that I didn’t know names for, or maybe they were new muscles that had no names, drive them into a frenzy of swollen beauty as I flexed my arm into full bloom.
My mouth dropped open as I watched it happen. My muscle truly did bloom, swelling outward and unfolding from its relaxed state until the whole of my arm was overwhelmed with muscle.
Then my chest and back and shoulder joined the party. Deltoid and pectoralis major and minor. Subscrapularis and teres major and minor. Trapezius and latissimus. Unfolding and blossoming and swelling. Bands of power. Cables of power. Fucking mighty balls of muscle growing harder and tighter and larger as I flexed.
I brought up my other arm, watching the other side match its brother in size and shape and beauty, perfectly harmonious and awesomely powerful.
Bigger and bigger, as if all I had to do was wish for it to be so. I could feel them sing with restrained might. I knew that I could do anything I wanted to do with them. That I was unstoppable and invincible, the supreme being.
I lowered my arms and watched my display of power subside. My cock was throbbing. My balls tingled. I shook the heavy meat on my thigh and then tensed it into defined wedges of meat, solidifying against my flawless skin. I traced the edges of clearly defined bands, placing my fingertip into separations between the three heads of the vastus muscles, pushing against the rock-hard brawn without making a dent.
I could feel the swell of my glutes pressing outward by the centimeter. My ass was its own godlike creation. I ached to see it.
Even though I had to weigh close to 200 kilos, I felt light and nearly weightless. Was that what this much strength meant? My muscles carried their own weight with effortless ease. And I understood now how my partner had been both overwhelmed with brawn, and able to be inhumanly flexible. I knew that I could easily mimic his athletic splits, pressing my legs apart to open myself to anyone who wanted in. My ass was a feast.
I turned to the side to see the hellacious and insane taper of my upper body to my tight waist, and the manner in which the meaty, rounded shelf of my ass stuck out a full kilometer. I moved my hand along its rounded contour, slapped it resoundingly, and slipped my fingers into my crack. It was hot in there, steaming with sex, and when I withdrew my fingers I brought them to my nostrils to inhale the smell of the ultimate man.
I turned fully about and bent over, spreading my muscled legs wide and shoving my hole at the reflection, my incredibly beautiful face appearing between my legs. A tight, pink, perfect pucker looked back at me. I moved my hand over the swelling muscles along my back and inched my middle digit to the eye at the entryway to perfect godlike sex. My skin was smooth and silken, and I could feel every point of contact with a vastly heightened sensuality. I moved my finger to the warm, moist access to my cave of wonders and rubbed myself gently before pushing inside.
Instantly, I shook with delight. Intense shocks - no, bolts of sexual energy shot through my body, and I tested the muscular control I had inside me. I clamped down painfully on my own finger, then opened the hole wide enough to easily allow someone of my own impressive girth to enter the door to ecstasy. I could fucking stick a horsecock in there now and have room for more.
A kind of sexual feedback loop started happening. My finger was a dick, pushing inside my ass. My ass was sending out throbs of intense bliss that somehow entered the flesh of my finger, and it felt like my dick. If I could cum out of the ends of my fingers, I would have done so.
I groaned involuntarily at the strength of my new sexuality. It was overwhelming and powerful.
And I knew in an instant what I wanted to do next.
I would find 4 and 5, my companions, my tricksters, my comrades. I would find them and I would fuck them. Or they would fuck me, wasn’t that how it worked?
They would join me at the pinnacle of godhood, amplified and augmented beyond mere mortal bounds. I would pump them full and watch them grow. I would plug into the circuit and fuck and kiss them until muscle began to swell beneath their flawless skin and their bodies surpassed the limits of man.
It would be beautiful.
It would be perfect.
As I stood back up and the thought came into my head, the Overseer joined me. His reflection moved next to mine in the mirrored wall.
I was bigger, even, than he was. How was this possible? It should not be possible. I watched his eyes scan my reflection, and I wondered if it was pride I saw there - pride in his accomplishment and pride in me - or lust? Perhaps it was both. He immediately set his hand in that now-familiar grip on my ass cheek, moving his touch towards my hot, hungry hole. “How do you feel?” he asked.
With his hand on my butt and his magic fingers nearing my pucker, I was feeling very good, indeed. “Amazing,” I said, meaning both how I looked and how I felt.
It was the first time I had heard my voice since I had been matured. My God, how will anyone now withstand its power? The masculine timbre of it was absurd and irresistible. I wager I could make another man come just by saying “Hello” to him over a voice connection. I almost made myself come all over again. The depth and potency just within the one word I had uttered seemed to plug itself directly into my libido.
And if I couldn’t resist it, how could anyone else?
The Overseer seemed to recognize that power. He gripped my ass and moved his touch towards my hole, eager for me to renew our coupling. “What are you?”
My handsome brow wrinkled. “A man,” I replied. Fuck, that voice. I’d need to learn to temper its strength. I was trying to keep from speaking, afraid of its power, but that was absurd. I loved to hear the sound of my own voice. So what if it could now cause a man to spontaneously orgasm? I looked at myself in the mirror. “Just a man.”
“Are all men like you?”
I remembered that the Overseer had never been outside the Residence - had never even been with a regular human man before. Maybe he still had not, for I had been so radically altered by my earlier treatment that perhaps I was no longer ‘just a man’ anymore. “All men are different,” I answered.
His fingers found the core of me, and pushed inside. I allowed him to, and felt that tingling, throbbing, resonant sense of sex that he could transmit reverberating out like a plucked string inside me, or the rings of a splash caused by a pebble - in his case, a boulder - in still water. I wondered if I could do that, too?
I moved my hand onto his smooth, muscular buttock. That was all I did. He gasped and sighed and went up onto his toes. My lips curled into a smile on one side. I started to move my palm across the silken contour of his massive glute, sliding my fingertips towards his hole. He was warm - no, he was hot to my touch, and seemed to be heating up.
I watched his face in the mirror as my hand slid closer to its goal. He relaxed himself, allowing the deep valley between his cheeks to grow supple so that I could enter the viselike grip.
His heat increased. I touched the pucker. He swallowed hard and shuddered. I pushed one finger inside.
He came. His cock inflated and rose to its magnificence and I watched his entire massive and muscular form shake. All I had done was touch him there. Just with my finger.
He shot nearly as hard as I had done.
Soon, there would be no more mirror to look into.
“What...what are you?” he gasped.
Perhaps it was time to find out. “How does it work?” He was still shivering with orgasmic delight as my digit entered him, so I reluctantly pulled it free, but kept my hand on his hard, warm ass. “How do you do it?”
He opened his eyes and looked at our reflection, now masked under an explosion of his cum. “I am the Overseer.”
“Sorry, let me rephrase. How is it done?”
“You are prepared. Then we are joined. Then you are matured.”
“Prepared how?”
He turned towards me, looked down my massive form and took my cock into his hand. Fuck, he felt good. “I take you into my mouth to prepare you.”
“Prepare me how?”
He...shrugged. It was an innately human gesture that made me smile. “I am the Overseer.” Evidently, that would have to suffice. “After you are adequately prepared, I am open for you and you enter me.” That much I remembered quite vividly. “We exchange, to complete the preparation and maturation may continue.”
“Exchanged?”
“You give me your essence so I may know you.”
“Know me?”
“Understand your Level and construct your maturation.”
His body was doing something, obviously, but what that was would be left for biologists or geneticists to define. “And when we kissed?”
He nodded. “We become fully joined, and you are matured.”
Was he more machine than man? Was I?
I certainly didn’t feel like a machine. This was meat on my bones, not servos and hydraulics. This was pure muscle clinging to bone beneath skin. Blood pumped through me. My cock rose because I felt horny, and not because internal mechanics lifted it up. Assuredly I had been amplified and augmented through an artificial process, but now I was certain - well, nearly certain - that I was just me. This was all me, whatever I was.
‘What are you?’ he asked. And now I had to ask it of myself: ‘What am I?’
He was the same as I. I was sure of it. Something made or contrived for a specific purpose, but still made up of the same stuff as me - or very nearly. Bone and muscle, flesh and blood.
It also made me intensely curious about them - the augmented. How were females matured? It made sense to me that it would take a male to mature another male. Maybe that was my prejudice, or my ignorance. Now I wondered about them all. Where did they come from, really? What were they? Or, more accurately, who were they?
I moved my fingers back towards his hole because I craved him. I wanted to watch the reaction I could cause merely with the touch of my fingers to his core. I moved into his crack - god, the smoothness of his skin was intoxicating - and rubbed against him with gentle circle.
He gasped and shut his eyes and his cock plumped and jumped, sending a fresh volley of cream at our joint reflections. I had to smile that I could do that to him, this perfectly beautiful and immensely powerful man, and it made me wonder what would happen if I unleashed myself on a room as 5 had done in the lounge. And would I even know how?
I would know how. Of course I would. Perhaps I wouldn’t even have to unleash anything. Perhaps my mere presence would be enough to send everyone in the room - every soul, man or woman - into mad sexual convulsions because I was there, and my cock was there, and my perfection.
What else could I do, now? How powerful was I? What limits did I have, if any?
Time to test them.
“I want to find my companions,” I explained.
He nodded. “To mature them.”
“Yes.” Jesus, my own voice was making me hard.
He smiled. “I would be honored to be matured by you.”
I was surprised, if not shocked. “Is that… is that possible?”
“You are greater than I am. You can promote me to my next level.”
“I didn’t think there was a next level.”
He looked into the mirror. I followed his gaze, and there I was again. God, or the perfect man. Huge. Beautiful. Powerful. Perfect. I looked at the two of us there, and I could see what he meant. He was gorgeous, certainly the best looking, biggest, most muscular and powerful man I had ever encountered. No one could refuse him anything, and he looked like he could take on the world and win. His cock was a tool of incredible size and beauty. His body was flawless and bulging with beautiful brawn. His face could make a blind man cum.
Then I looked at my own reflection.
“Oh,” I said.
A smile bloomed on his achingly handsome features. “Will you mature me.”
The prospect of having that monster cock in my ass was more than enough to convince me, but the idea of watching him become...even more! And that I was the one capable of driving him there. I nearly came again. “Of course.”
He took my hand and I followed him back to the bed where I had grown only minutes ago. My body pulsed with pure, unfiltered masculine energy. I could feel it building, as if in anticipation of what I was going to do. My body knew its power, and it was prepared to give it away most anxiously.
When he turned back towards me, his own colossal prick was already at full steam. A drizzle of precum was flowing from the eye and he looked ready to fuck the whole world. “What does it feel like?” I asked. “To change someone.”
His smile was orgasmic. “It is the ultimate pleasure.”
I enjoy being fucked, I’m not going to lie. I enjoy the sensation of being filled up with a man’s cock, and I enjoy the pleasure as he slams himself into me with force and desire, and I enjoy how my body reacts without any notion of pulling my brain into it. I like letting go, and I like control.
You know, don’t you, that the man on the bottom is always in control. Just like the woman is always in control. The man on top may think he’s steering the boat, but we’re controlling the ocean. We can pull him in and keep him there. We can caress and squeeze and feel every millimeter of the man inside us, and derive pleasure from every moment of the fuck. The man on top, thrusting and shoving and displaying his mastery - he’s only mastering himself, master of his own cock.
The man on the bottom is the master of the fuck.
We both understood this, he and I. We understood it when he was in control, and now we understood it that I was in control.
I lay on my back and he climbed on top and began to kiss me. His weight was fulsome and comfortable atop me. His body was hot and slick with sweat and hard with muscle. Our mouths devoured each other, the hunger for sex and power was insatiable inside of us both. We wanted to receive it, and I wanted to provide it. He wanted what I - and only I - could give him, and I wanted to watch him swell with power, feel his body expanding on top of me, growing thicker and harder and stronger because I had made it happen.
My cock was like a divining rod, practically sniffing at his hole like a dog and wanting inside. He was moving his ass towards my thick hard-on and I could feel him there, rubbing the head of my hungry prick, with sensational potency. My whole body was primed for this, but my cock was positively ravenous to enter him.
He smiled against my lips and withdrew from our kissing and met my eyes with his. “You want more,” he said, and he moved his hips around and rubbed his moist hole against the tip of my dick. “But it is my turn, now.”
“I always want more,” I admitted. “I always will.”
He moved up my body and positioned his monster at my lips. “You must know me,” he said, or instructed. I opened my mouth wide and swallowed him inside.
He came instantly, shoving a thick load of cream down my throat like a rocket. It tasted of him, and I knew him. That is the only explanation I can offer. In his seed was the essence of him. My body recognized him, and knew him, and knew what to do. I felt giddy and a bit lightheaded. Then a surging sense of...authority. Of command and domination. Like I had felt before, only magnified and condensed and centered on just one man. I groaned with bliss and sucked it all down.
My eyes met his again as I eagerly swallowed every drop. I pulled my lips reluctantly from his majestic swollen cock and grabbed it, caressing him with steady, spit-slicked strokes. He was magnificent and powerful.
And I would make him more so.
He asked, “Are you ready?”
Fuck yeah, I was ready! I collpased back onto the groaning bed and pulled my legs apart with supple finesse, effortlessly opening myself to him. He dropped down and moved his mouth to my asshole and began to lick and poke with his tongue against my hot hole. It felt like a pliable dick invading me, and I trembled with anticipation of his arrival.
He pleasured my ass for interminable minutes and I could feel my balls filling up with cum. My cock was so hard it felt like it might rip itself free from its metal shell, like a snake shedding its skin, and I was drenched in sweat. I reached down and stroked my red-hot poker and squirmed with delight under his masterful ass ministrations.
Fuck, I need him inside me! Fuck, I did!
Finally he rose up to his knees, his mighty cock rising between his legs and beating a steady throb against his cobblestone abs. It was drooling precum so copiously that it looked as if it was coated in syrup. I could see it flowing from the mouth of his monster and coursing down the thick inches of his meat.
He leaned over and maneuvered himself at my entrance. I could feel the increased heat of that hot tool as it approached. It was a furnace of sex, swollen with power and ready to explode. His lips met mine at the same instant that he pushed the slick head of his cock against me and I swallowed him whole, sucking him inside me.
I could feel it. That connection. I was the electrical socket and he was the plug. I would feed him my energy and he would pull it inside himself and start to change. A sense of completion, of fulfillment, of utter perfection overwhelmed me and without the knowledge of how to do it or the command of its power, I began to mature him.
His kisses grew suddenly passionate and hungry. I surrounded his body in my arms and legs as he fucked me. We were joined in some kind of circuit made of muscle and bone and skin, he plugged into me and me feeding him power.
So much power. Endless power. Overwhelming and irresistible.
I felt him begin to change within my muscular embrace. I felt his cock growing thicker and longer within me. I felt his body begin to expand. I felt his muscles bulging with power - the power that I had, and the power that I was giving to him.
As before, I found myself surrendering to a kind of mesmerizing daze. Time stopped, or it expanded beyond my understanding. It was all about the fuck, and the kiss, and his cock inside me, and my power feeding his maturation.
We could not have stopped it we had tried, but neither of us wanted that. This perfection was all we wanted. Him on top of me. Growing stronger. Growing bigger. Growing impossibly beautiful because he was with me, and this was what I wanted.
And I could make it happen.
I wanted to crawl fully inside of him. I wanted to be joined to him even more closely than I was. Were we one man as it happened? Was I making love to him or to myself? Was that his cock inside me, or mine inside of him? Whose body did I inhabit? Or was I now in both?
He was swelling with muscle. I could sense it as he forced my arms and legs apart. I could feel each of the heads of his muscles keenly as they pressed outward against his slick, warm flesh. I could feel his weight increase on my own masterful form, and I knew he was growing to be as large, as powerful, as beautiful as I was.
Minutes? Hours? Days? How long did I feed him my power? And I was not diminished an iota as he continued to inflate with brawn. Bands - cables of muscle swelling all over his body. And he was kissing and fucking me with equal passion and power.
Then the surge began to diminish. The ocean of power receded. The massive bolts of muscular energy that my body gave to his body grew smaller and smaller until we were again two men, wrapped in each others arms, engaged in a passionate exchange on top of one another.
He pulled his lips reluctantly from mine and I beheld the face of the god above me. I was breathless and spellbound by his beauty. I was enthralled by him. Bewitched by him. And then he smiled and I felt my cock swell between us and let loose with a cascade of hot cream so full and thick and sudden that I felt as if my soul had just exploded from the tip of my prick.
He tilted his head and released his own flood of hot cum inside of me, filling my guts with the gallons of powerful cream his balls could produce. It tingled and thrilled me as if he had jolted my heart with pure masculine power.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“My pleasure,” he said.
And then we started again.