My name is Carrie Wyman. I'm a professional dominatrix. This wasn't my first choice in jobs. Before that, I was an IT-engineer, but I lost my job at a medium-sized start-up company during the web 3.0 crash of 2048. My boss had seriously overstated the prospected earnings and, ta-daa, the whole thing went bust in two months. At this time, it turned out that the company wasn't actually selling anything but merely growing by increasing the value of its stocks. As a result, I found myself without an income. This wouldn't have been too hard, but there were two problems to consider: first, the crash had killed almost every engineering job I was qualified for, second, I had two teenage daughters to put through college and a mortgage to pay. Suffice to say, I was desperate. I went out on the lookout for jobs to earn some money, though I was hardly expecting to ever get the kind of cash I got at Cobracom. Stupid name, if you think about it with hindsight. I got jobs at delis, fast food restaurants, I even did the laundry for some people I met on a message board. Still, I had no chance to cover my costs.

At this lowest point, I got desperate. I checked the job offers on my favourite feeds and decided to pick one at random and try it. Well, luck certainly shone on me that day. I called the owner of this studio for 'specific interests in education' as she called it officially and got hired. Crazy, but true. For reasons unknown, this turned out to be my calling. Strange. Soon, I was earning insane amounts of money. Of course, the job is pretty hard and can be very stressful and ugly. I get to humiliate people for money. It's actually quite creative: You have to use your intuition to find out what your customers want and find a way to realise this. At first, I had no idea how to do this, but my boss, a tall, thin blonde in her fifties, Susan, showed me the ropes, if you allow the pun. I built up a stock of regulars and soon, I got invited to fancy dinners, got some expensive presents and managed to put both my girls in college. As a whole, it turned out alright. Of course, this is hardly a respected position: When people ask me what I do for a living, I usually say that I work in communications, or in training or that I'm a personal assistant. I always hope that they don't ask any further. I actually got into trouble when my kids got old enough to ask what I really did for a living. At first, I tried to bluff my way through the conversation, but my older one, Sonya, had been suspicious all along and cornered me easily. At first, it was a shock for them. It took a while for me to explain that I wasn't a prostitute, at least not in the normal sense of the word. In the end, they grudgingly accepted it. Sonya had it easier since she had realised the trouble we had been in when I had been unemployed, but Julia hardly spoke to me for months. Even today, our relationship is strained. It's pretty bad, but there isn't much I can do.

I had been working in this field for ten years, and I noticed that I was losing my shape. You see, I'm rather tall, 5'10", I have long black hair, green eyes and I always was curvy. All these years, I was constantly on a diet, while doing a lot of cardio to stay trim, but now I'm 46 and it's getting harder to keep up. My breasts, who have always been round and full, have begun to sag and my waist needs a corset whenever I appear in front of my customers. I wasn't fat, far from it, but I started to notice the scepticism in my customers' eyes. The business is hard. There is a lot of competition and I felt quite pressured at the time. In the end, I started thinking about plastic surgery. Getting my breasts and tummy done. Getting everything back into shape. However, here's an awful little confession: Even though I 'enjoy' torturing and disciplining my clients, I hardly support pain myself. A couple of years ago, I had a tattoo done. Man, was I squeamish. I nearly pissed myself. As a result, I wasn't too keen on this.

However, in the early 2060ies, the whole nanotech business trickled down from the military. At this time, you could buy some first commercial nanotech for insane sums of money. It was all very experimental at the time. The systems were usually military grade equipment reprogrammed to be used for civilian purposes. For some reason, this procedure seemed to be less awful than surgery. After a talk with the girls I decided to go ahead. Of course, they were against it, but accepted my decision. After all, you sometimes have to do what is necessary to keep your job. As soon as I mentioned it, all the 'colleagues' at the studio insisted I try it and tell them about it later. Anyway, I decided to get an appointment.

A week later, I was at the doctor's office. It was a nice room, all white and shiny, with elegant and tasteful furniture. The doctor was an average sized guy with short, grey hair and an amused look. He quickly explained the procedure:
"It's all very simple: The nanotech is actually a system of very small robots. They are smaller than a millimetre, a million times smaller actually. They are wirelessly controlled to modify cell growth in your body and to adjust it to your wishes. This will need a lot of energy, so we'll give you special nutrients to allow you to adapt. The nanotech will be introduced by injection. It takes two hours to get in, then, it can be programmed freely. There are no known negative side effects except for mild nausea in the next weeks, but this usually stops after a few days. Do you have any questions?"
"Does the nanotech stay in my body?"
"Normally yes. We can flush it out if you want, but this would slowly undo the changes after a while. The nanotech is responsible for maintaining them. Also, there is a legal fact to know about: The technology is automatically turned off in government buildings, aircraft and airports. So if you work in any of these, I wouldn't recommend the procedure. There wouldn't be much point in it. Besides, there is all this technical advice and legal aspects to look at."
He handed me a set of manuals. I took them home and gave them a read. It took forever. Especially the legalese turned out to be extremely complicated. However, the technical stuff was quite clear. The system itself wasn't too hard to understand. The programming wasn't too hard either. Still, there was no interface supplied.
In the end, I decided to go for it.

At the office, the doctor checked my final questions and prepared me for injection. It took forever, you know how these things are. When he was done, I laid down on the operating table and he disinfected my arm. With a short jab, he put in the hypodermic needle and attached the infusion. I whinced. Soon, it started dripping inside my bloodstream. It felt cold. The doctor said:
"You're in for two hours. If anything happens, just push the panic button. I'm next door. Use the entertainment centre as you see fit."
Indeed, I spent two hours surfing the net. When it was done, the doctor returned and removed the needle. He switched the infusion to a bag of high-energy nutrients. I felt tired and bored. However, excitement soon returned.
"We're ready." He set up his laptop and brought up the control interface. He loaded the agreed presets and showed them to me. "This is what we agreed on. Still alright?"
I nodded. He hit 'apply'.

Instantly, the cold and numb feeling spread across my body. I could watch it change on the mirror suspended above me. At first, the feeling spread to my stomach. I stared in awe as it firmed up. I could feel that my abdominal muscles grew firmer while the fat melted away. Soon, the padding was disappearing. My small waist was returning! I smiled gladly: This was going according to plan. Next, it moved up to my breasts, which soon started to swell and lift. Within minutes, I had a pair of perfect fetish breasts: round and full, with big, centered nipples. I tried to sit up, but found it difficult: Not only was I unaccustomed to the sudden weight increase on my chest, I also felt really tired and bruised. The doctor helped me into an upright position and said:
"You should take it easy for the next week. The system places a certain strain on the body, so you should rest."
I nodded and he helped me into my clothes. I stayed without a bra since I found I didn't need it anymore. I rode home in a taxi, then sat down on the couch, enjoying the peace. After a few minutes, I removed the shirt and took a look at my breasts. Touching them gently at first, I found them sensitive and squishy. Yay! Caressing my new flat stomach was equally rewarding. For now, it looked like some money well spent.

A week and a half later, I was back at work, working to reduce the ego of my customers. Their overall reaction was one of admiration. There I was, showing off my new wardrobe, all rubber and leather, wearing a tight corset and enjoying the feeling of an authentic 20-inch-waist. I was just finished with "Bradley", a very nice man in his fifties, always eager to please and endlessly grateful if put to good use as a chair, foodrest or toilet. Once he was out, still bowing thankfully, the other members of the studio popped in. I had been late in the morning, so this was the moment of truth.
Susan was the first to ask:
"Come on, tell us! How does it feel?"
I explained the procedure and how it felt but soon found that actual showing the goods would ease comprehension. I motioned Allison, our youngest member, to shut the door and stripped. Seconds later, they were all over me, squeezing and fumbling my breasts. Helen, our fourth partner in crime, was especially avid on testing my new assets. She was a professional submissive and had had a lot of work done. She had a bit of a body dysmorphic disorder, always pinching at parts of her body, wishing them to be bigger, smaller, firmer or softer. Right now, she was testing the firmness of her implants against my nanotech tits.
"Feels good. They're soft enough, but firm at the same time. Still, you should have had your ass done at the same time."
That stung. Of course, she was right. Having a perfect stomach and superior breasts meant that my behind was now lacking. Anyway, I decided not to worry about this. In the end, Susan, the boss, said:
"This method seems fine. I think I'll have to look into this. I'll call my tax counsellor to see whether this is deductible and maybe I'll try it myself. Besides, I think we should celebrate Carrie's return. I'm inviting you for dinner!"
We didn't bother to change into our "civilian clothes" and headed down to the restaurant. As always, Susan chose Helen's meal, ensuring that she stayed obedient as much as possible. The waiter, Juan, was a good friend of ours, normally allowing for our eccentricities. However, I easily noticed his discomfort as I sat down, exposing my massive cleavage. Suffice to say the service was more than excellent today.

When we returned upstairs, Susan told me that I was to welcome a new guest later on. Since our club was invitation only, we frequently received new members by recommendation. The person who was to be introduced was a novice to these things, but he came with the highest praise. I checked my outfit, pinching my ass-cheeks with a sudden pang of self-doubt. Then, he came in. He was a short man, narrow shoulders, dark hair, clear eyes, didn't seem like much. He smiled. Normally, I'm not too good a judge of people, but this guy was an odd one. I wondered whether he would be trouble.

Shit. Fifteen minutes later, I was in trouble. Turned out that this little piece of shit was a crazy one. As I told him to sit down, he just smiled his insane little smile and grabbed me, forcing me to the ground. Normally, I would have easily managed to break free, but this guy must have been full of enhancers. He had a grip of steel. I was fearing for the worst. I shouted for the others, screaming the electronic panic phrase, but to no avail. He had clearly hacked the system, preventing it from connecting. I shouted again, but it was pointless. He quickly cuffed me, forcing me into a controlled position. As the feeling of panic subsided, I realised that this guy was just about insane. He must have been full of every kind of AED (aggression enhancing drug) and euphorisers. I had been warned about these guys on the net. They are a subculture of druggies enjoying their bouts of chemically fuelled madness while also loading up with enhancers.
I began thinking about this methodically. He was on top of me, trying to make up his mind whether he wanted to kill me, rape me or both. This was hardly comforting but it also meant that I had a few seconds before his mind could make the tough choice. I weighed my options: trying to call the others was pointless. Sending a help call on the net was impossible. Fighting this guy off was extremely difficult. He was way too strong.
Suddenly, I realized what I had to do.
I concentrated, thinking about the technological documentation of the nanotech. Soon I remembered a detail I had been wondering about. There was a fail-safe which turned off the machines in the case of trouble. You could do it yourself by thinking of a series of geometrical shapes and numbers. The sequence was actually quite long and complex, but I had taken the time to memorize it. Thinking quickly, I noticed that the sequence had a very simple structure: It was a clear list of descriptors applied to the nanotech which set the system to neutral, reversing any functions which had been assigned to it. Now, I had no idea what the various shapes did, but the numbers were clear. These would be the levels to which the parameters would be set. I activated the sequence, but set the controls for what I thought to be the breast size to zero while shifting the controls similar to the stomach tone to maximum. Then, I waited, hoping for the best.

The crazy had made up his mind. Fuck first, kill later. He grinned rigidly and proceeded to tear up his pants. However, I felt a bizarre tingling in my body. This feeling spread through my entire musculature. Suddenly, it surged outwards as my breasts collapsed. Within seconds, his arms were being forced apart by my spreading back, blowing up as if I were growing wings. He spasmed, spitting and drooling from the strain as he tried to contain my rapid expansion. I felt my muscles vibrate as they grew. Finally, his arms gave way, forcing him to slide down my well-rounded back. I stood up slowly, desperate to adjust to my new-found muscularity. He grinned desperately, his eyes betraying his panic. I took a good look at my huge forearm and smiled. Still shaking from the sustained growth, I approached him. He tried to ease away, desperately sliding on his back. I lunged forward, throwing my enormous shoulder into the blow. My fist connected, sending him spiralling across the room. He tried to get back up, the right half of his face swelling shut. However, the AED was taking over. He threw himself at me, clawing at my massive biceps. I grabbed him with my left hand, which seemed minuscule when compared to my arms, and lifted him over my head. My swelling back muscles brushed against the side of my head. He tried to bite me, but I just threw him down. The impact made the ground shudder. I dropped on him, smashing him with my over-muscled chest. He collapsed under my weight. I made sure he was out cold. Then, I realised that my muscles were becoming more and more defined: I was clearly using up all the remaining bodyfat to fuel the ongoing muscle growth. This might become dangerous! I tried to shut the program off. Concentrating, I tried to change the sequence in order to stabilize the process. However, I was unable to concentrate: I was so hungry. I just had to eat something. I ran out, storming into our little kitchen and swallowed what I could.

As I was standing there, desperate to sate my hunger, the others came in. I was turning my back at them and they wouldn't recognize me. Susan addressed me first:
"Who are you and what are you doing here? This place is appointments only!"
I drank down a pack of milk and turned around slowly, grabbing some of the anti-depression chocolate and swallowing the bar whole.
"Carrie? What's going on?"
Between gulps, I could manage to blurt out:
"Hungry! I need food to become stable!"
Susan thought for a second and ordered:
"Helen, go down to the supermarket and buy what you can. Allison, call a doctor!"
I shouted:
"No doctor! I can fix it!"
Then, I inhaled a pack of honey.

Twenty minutes later, I had eaten all Helen had brought and the growth had finally maxed out. I was now my usual 5'10", but weighed some 450 pounds of muscle. I was lying on the ground, the only thing in the room able to support my weight and breathed deeply. My shoulders were the size of basketballs, making my body wider than any door in our studio. Besides, my swollen muscle-chest was blocking my view to my feet. My arms were standing off at a 45°-angle. At the end of my growth, the others had to feed my since I was unable to reach my mouth.
Once everything settled down, I said:
"Thank you, girls. The guy in my room should still be out cold, but don't go near him: He's dangerous." I swivelled my head around, brushing against my mountainous muscles. "This was the only way I could get rid of him."
They were still staring at me, my massive nude body splattered with the sorry remains of our food reserves. The torn remains of my corset were still hanging from my hips. Susan said:
"No problem. Helen, Allison, throw him out. Take some of his cash for bonus expenses. Give him a receipt." Still looking at my huge body, they went out. She continued: "Is this normal?"
"I don't think so. I sort of hacked the system to make it do this. I'm going to try and reverse it now. Please help me if something goes wrong."
She nodded.

Minutes later, I had successfully deflated. My body was now lithe to the extreme. I had the figure of a coat hanger model, my muscles having disappeared just like my breasts. Susan asked me to see the doctor who had performed the procedure, but I had other plans. I decided to take the rest of the week off. There was some experimentation to be done.
A few hours later, I arrived at my flat. I had several nutrient packs with me. These are special high-energy foodstuffs used by people who don't have time to eat or prefer not to cook and don't mind a bad taste. It's pretty awful stuff, but it would give me the energy I would need. A few minutes later, a delivery guy brought the rest of my purchases: More nutrients, a couple of tracksuits and a stable massage bed. I didn't want to lie on the ground.
I made sure neither of my kids would call, then stripped. Time to get my figure back! Preparing the food, I assembled the data I would apply. After a while I had figured out most of the code. Some hacker sites provided the missing information. I wrote down all I planned, smiling with anticipation. As I started eating, the doorbell rang. Perfect. Just what I needed. I got to the door:
"Who is it?"
"It's me, Helen. Do you have a moment?"
"What do you want?"
"You're going to reprogram the nanotech, aren't you?"
"I will. What about it?"
"I want to watch. It's turning me on!"
Having someone around to help me if something went wrong wasn't bad after all.
"Okay, come in."
I opened the door. She was still wearing her work clothes and from the sweat dripping from her latex collar, she had been running. I showed her to my bedroom and said:
"I was just about to start, so lie down and enjoy."
She climbed on my bed and said:
"Cool! Go ahead!"

I ate the food, forcing myself to down the huge amounts I expected to need. She smiled, gently working her clit as the anticipation built up. Then, I was completely stuffed. I gasped, burped and laid down on the bed. Helen was quivering with anticipation. Out of breath, she asked:
"When do you start?"
"Coming up right away, give me a little time, don't pressure me!"
I took a deep breath and started inputting the sequence. It was much longer than the last time, adjusting many parameters I had discovered on the net. I seriously hoped that the system would be able to process them. Once I was done, I activated the nanomachines and felt the process beginning. I instantly felt freezing. Everything turned cold and I started to shiver as the machines spread across my body, rebuilding it almost entirely. I propped myself up on my forearms, watching my calves swell until they reached athletic proportions, then seeing my thighs blow up to sprinter levels. I could see the muscle striations appear under my taught skin, reminding me of the fact that I would have to eat a lot to fill this body out again.
However, my thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shock of utmost cold assaulting my sex. I could feel myself tightening up, my cunt taking the most perfect porn star style. The feeling was oddly arousing even though the cold was almost painful. I gasped, shutting my eyes momentarily. As I opened them again, I could see Helen thrashing around on my bed, her latex-covered body flailing around in wild abandon.
I watched as my ass filled out, the nanotech providing me with a perfectly tight booty. The process spread over my stomach, giving me a slight six-pack, then reinstating my missing tits. Watching them grow again made me feel even hornier. Still, I had no chance to admire the effect since the nanomachines began their work on my back, shoulders and arms. I dropped on my back, noticing that I was slowly being lifted up by my growing muscles. It felt crazy. Then, the process spread to my head. I screamed as the unearthly cold washed over my face, working the age from its shape. Then, finally, the cold subsided. I was starved and tired. Every part of my body felt battered and bruised.

After a few minutes, Helen climbed over to me and said:
"Wow. You look amazing. This is so sexy."
I took a deep breath and said:
"It must be, but it feels like I've been run over by a truck."
"Must be a good-looking truck. You're gorgeous!"
"I am? I need to take a look. Could you help me up?"
"Of course."
She helped me to a sitting position, my massive breasts swaying into my lap but maintaining their perfect perkiness despite their size. They were back. We slowly stumbled to the bathroom. There, I finally had the opportunity to see my new shape: I couldn't stop myself from nodding at my new look.
My body was now bizarrely oversexed in every way. It was well-muscled, somewhere around lightweight bodybuilding, with well-defined, strong muscles, a sort of elegant litheness combined with the swelling feminity of my broad hips and sensual breasts. My face had regained its youthful vigour, but I had resisted actually changing it. After all, a woman has to keep her identity. As a result, I had the perfect mature, gracefully ageing style. I was no kid, I was a real woman, but indeed a gorgeous one. I cupped my breasts, lifting them gently and enjoying the bounce as I let them drop. They were perfectly tight. I then proceeded to flex my newly grown muscles, feeling them swell beneath my skin.
I turned around to my latex-clad friend and said:
"Don't I look good?"
"You do."
"Come on, take off the plastic and show me your body. I want to be sure!"
I have never seen someone strip out of a latex suit so fast.

Seconds later, we were on the floor. I was squeezing her perfectly round boobs, kissing her passionately. I tore off her black Betty-Page-wig, exposing her shaven head, which I then started licking. As I worked my tongue over her head, marvelling at its perfect baldness, I unfurled it to its new length. This was one of the odder things I had found on the net and was an option which had been hacked into the system. I swept it down towards her body, dragging my 18"-tongue down to her pussy. I gave her a ravenous look and unveiled its final alteration. The tip split into three half-inch long prongs. She gasped as I led it to her cunt lips. Using the side-prongs, I edged in, stroking her clitoris with the middle one. She winced. I took hold of it with my tongue fingers, then furled it up so that I could twist it inside her cunt. The double-layered appendage disappeared into her, the tip still outside, caressing her knob. I was straining with effort, concentrating on the complex muscle control necessary. Then, I dragged my lower tongue's rough surface across her g-spot. She screamed, tightening up and showering my face. She tried to roll over in ecstasy, but I grabbed her and held her. Instead, I continued working on her, preparing a second orgasm.
As she bucked and fought, the front door opened. Shit. I could hear Julia's voice:
"Mom? Are you there? It's me! I'm just here to pick up some of my stuff."
Julia had been talking for weeks that she would eventually move the contents of her room to her students' flat. Of course, she isn't the most reliable person (that would be my genes) and she has a certain tendency to turn up whenever it suits her. I extricated my tongue from my colleague's snatch and motioned her to stay silent. However, Helen has a very odd mindset. She really loves her submissive persona, and my actions had been in conflict with her nature. This usually meant not doing what people wanted her to do in order to be corrected.
"Go on! I was just about to come again!"
I shut my eyes. Outside, my daughter was approaching. I got up, shooting glances of total hate at Helen, who grinned at me defiantly.
"You're going to get it when she's gone. You're going to wish you were no sub."
Outside, Julia asked:
"Mom, are you in there? Can I help?"
I smote Helen with a glare, then said:
"It's alright. I'm just trying something on."
"Is there someone in there with you? Can I come in? I've got to ask you something."
"A friend of mine is here, I got me a new look!"
Helen sniggered. Glare.
"Is this more of your fetish stuff?"
"Of course. I'm just getting dressed, then we can talk."
"Okay. I'll wait in the kitchen. By the way, your bedroom is a mess. What's with all the nutrient packs?"
"I'll explain later. Get yourself some coffee."

I took a quick shower, put on a robe and motioned Helen to wash herself. I then went to my dresser, got myself some fresh clothes, and decided to put on a soft brown caftan and picked up something for my "guest" to wear. I decided not to show my new body to Julia and to get rid of her as quickly as possible. I really love her, but this wasn't the moment.
I gave Helen the clothes and ordered her to stay in the bathroom. I wasn't finished with her. In the kitchen, Julia was waiting. Sadly for her, Julia had inherited her father's pudginess. She had also taken after him when it came to artistic talent, so this deficit was slightly cancelled out, though not necessary in her eyes. Still, I had managed to give her my perfect black hair. I came in, greeted her and grabbed a cup of coffee.

She took a deep breath. I had a bad feeling about this. Money? Pregnancy? Coming out?
"Mom, you remember how I never liked the job you were doing?"
I nodded.
"Well, I came here to apologize and ask you for a favour."
What?
"I met a professional musician and he has hired me to do his new video."
So far so good. I wondered whether she would be paid for the assignment.
"Anyway, he wants it to be designed to look like a domination and submission session and he wants it to look as fetishistic as possible. So..."
"I see. Are you going to be paid for this?"
"I'm getting a budget of 56,000. Of course, anything that remains, I keep."
"Sounds nice. You are aware that an hour of my time costs at least 350."
"350? Wow. I never realised how much you were earning."
"You never asked."
"So, are you in? Can you help me?"
"You'd pay me?"
"I guess I should."
"You should."
"Well, then, I will. Can you organize all the required stuff, the location, the other actors?"
"Of course. You'll pay that too, I guess?"
"Yes."
"Sounds perfect to me. I'm in. Is there a script?"
"Yes, I have it here."
She fumbled for her bag and pulled out some prints. I took it, read through it quickly and smiled. I knew just the type for this. And I had her in my bathroom. Suddenly, I realised that Julia was staring at me. She asked:
"What happened to you? Did you have something done?"
"Something? My sweet daughter, not something. Everything." I just had to. I got up and with a quick rip, I tore off the caftan.
She reacted in a way I hadn't expected, gasped and fell over backwards. She sank back on the chair, almost breaking her neck in the process. The horrible accident was prevented merely by the intervention of my window sill. So, instead of causing an instant tragedy, she merely knocked her head. I quickly stepped over, picked her up and carried her to the sofa.
I then went to the bathroom and unlocked it. Helen was waiting. She had put on the leather suit I had given her and gave me a resentful look. I merely lifted my eyebrow, then got my leash.
"Come along and help me dress up!"
She nodded as I fixed the leash to her collar. She then followed me to the dresser. I picked up a gothic white leather bodysuit and motioned her to help me in. I then let her lace up my corset and boots. We stepped over to the sofa and I motioned her to get on all fours, then sat down on her. Julia was just waking up.
"Mom, what happened?" She looked at me, her eyes checking my figure.
"As you said, I had some work done." I pointed down and added: "This is Helen, she will be assisting us."
"I will?"
"I think so. We're going to perform in a video."
"Nice. I'm okay with that, but I want something."
I gave her a long look.
"You want something?"
"Yes. I want the same you had. Its so awesome and I want to look my best. If you get it for me, I'm willing to work you."

It turned out that paying for such a modification was way beyond my financial possibilities for the next months. I told Helen and Julia that I'd think about the whole affair and call them the next day. Then, I crashed. Honestly, this was logical: I just had the most crowded and horrible day ever. I was almost raped, I transformed my body totally and had finally found that my daughter had a job. This was too much. I just undressed and dropped dead on my bed.
I slept very badly. I had all kinds of horrible dreams, one worse than the other. These nightmares plagued me for the years to come. It eventually got better, of course. I'm just too tough for such shit.

The next day was different at least. I got up, took a shower and had breakfast. Nude as I was, I couldn't help but noticing the way my body had transformed. This was astonishing! I couldn't help but feel glad about myself. I spent a few minutes flexing, shaking my muscles into shape and enjoying my strength. I even did a few tests. I picked up the washing machine, effortlessly lifting it. Wow! I hadn't expected this kind of power. It felt great. I made a mental note to go to a gym these days and test my strength to its limits.
After this, I started to ponder on paying for Helen's nanotech. I had no idea on how to get this kind of money again. So, instead of buying new machines, I would reprogram mine to reproduce and split a part off for her. In the end, I began working on an interface which would allow me to directly control the machines.
Three days later, I was done. I then began to multiply the machines in my own body. The process took its time. I was eating like a horse, feeling cold all over. Eventually, I called Helen and told her to grab some more food for me. When she arrived, I was completely famished and utterly angry. Helen looked at me. She said:
"What is it?"
"I'm getting the machines ready for you. Food. Now!"

An hour later, the multiplication was finished. I was completely wasted. Helen asked:
"Are you done yet? When do I get my machines?"
I groaned and said:
"They're ready. I only need them to get out of me now."
"How do you do this?"
"I have no idea."
"You could try getting them out by your snatch."
"Don't be dumb. This... is stupid, but it could work."
I stripped and told her to get ready. Then, I re-routed half of the machines to my pussy and let them flow out. I set them up to enter her body via the digestive tract. I had no idea on whether this would work, but it was easy to try. After a few seconds, a small lump of silverish substance emerged from my cunt. Helen lapped it up eagerly. I smiled as it happened. Another system knocked over.

The next step was easy. I just spread the system across her body and set it up. Helen shivered.
"Are you ready?"
She nodded, but asked:
"Don't I get to choose it?"
"No."
I activated the program I had set up.
Seconds later, her body began its transformation. I had prepared some special things for her: First, I made her body swell up with muscle. I decided to make her shape a little more extreme than mine, since I would be in perfect control of her. Her body rippled as new muscles built themselves up under her skin. When it stopped, she had the powerful body of a middleweight bodybuilder, her muscles well-defined by the absorbed body fat. She had also grown longer legs, making her 6'4". She was now the proud owner of 3'8" of legs.
Next, her skin changed: It thickened, taking on the glossy texture of latex. At the same time, her remaining hair fell out, taking any skin blemishes with it. Next, her breasts and butt swelled up. Soon, she sported a pair of massive tits. Then, the system attacked her brain: Within seconds, she became unable to experience pain without pleasure. Finally, it addressed her face: it smoothed, her lips swelling.
When it stopped, she was a rubber fetishist's wet dream.
She collapsed to the floor.

When she woke up, she seemed to be completely tired. I turned her around, slapping her to make her regain consciousness:
"Get up! It's done."
She rolled her eyes, staring groggily at me.
"What happened? Did it work?"
"It did. I guess you'll love it."
She stood up. The sudden change of perspective made her shiver. She looked down on me. Grabbing her breasts, she fondled them, marvelling at their swollen fullness.
"Wow. These are great. What happened to my skin?"
"I gave it a thorough polishing. I knew you'd like the look. I guess I just honoured my part of the deal. You're next!"

A few days later, we were having a session with my tailor. He is one of my subs and is usually very happy to serve me. When I came to his place, he was instantly fascinated. I attached Helen to one of his wall-rings and opened my robe:
"Daniel, I don't have anything to wear and neither has she. I expect you to fix this."
"Of course, mistress."
"You may take my measurements."

The following week brought a massive update to my wardrobe. I decided Helen was to move in with me and assist me until the shooting. She proved to be an excellent slave. She did the housework, did my shopping and even did my laundry. I was beginning to getting use to it. Besides, I frequently employed her as a pleasure toy. After a while, I figured out how to remote control her body and now coordinated us both when fucking. She was tremendously turned on when she realised what I was able to do. I eventually added a few new features to her body, including a massively increased sensitivity to her skin and the flexibility necessary to fit her completely in one of my smaller suitcases. I made her get in and carried her around for a day, unpacking her only to serve me. Whenever she got aroused, I relayed her feelings to my body, making me quiver with lust. The new technology was a way for me to reach new heights in my art.

Two days before the shooting, I decided to go to the gym and test out my body. I have been training at this gym for years, the owner being a close friend from my programmer days. He had always been a bodybuilder, training a lot to prevent his desk job from turning him into the heap of flab some of our co-workers had become. He knew about my job and was neutral about it. When I got there, he greeted me in his usual, clumsy, embracing way.
"Wow, Carrie, you look great! What happened?"
I squeezed myself against his massive chest and said:
"Patrick! I got myself some nanotech. Look!"
I flexed my arm, my biceps popping up.
"I want to see how strong I've become, so please, allow me to change and help me."
"Okay. But tell me about the 'tech later on. This sounds good!"
Minutes later, I was wearing my exercise gear, mostly a shiny black leotard, and lifting outrageous amounts of weight. I clearly saw that Patrick was feeling outclassed by my massive strength. I then pressed 800 pounds on the bench, beating his maximum.
The awkward silence that followed led to me asking:
"What happened? Impressed?"
"Indeed. How do you do that?"
"I mostly increased the muscle and bone density. I guess I'm not that good of a swimmer anymore, but at least I have these floatation devices."
I grinned stupidly and cupped my tits. I was having an effect.
"This nanotech is just way too powerful. Isn't there a restraint on this?"
"Not on mine anymore. I sorta hacked it. Besides, it's the stuff dreams are made of. Do you want some?"
"No, I'm sorry. I stayed off the juice and built this body naturally - I've no plan to wreck my streak."
"Suit yourself. You are aware that I could be your size in minutes, aren't you?"
"For real?"
"Of course. Do you want to see it?"
It was easy to see that he was hesitating. Finally, he nodded.
"Okay. I guess you have enough protein powder and stuff here, don't you?"

Thankfully, the place was empty at this hour of the day. He helped me mix up the 'food', if you might call it that way, and I started feeding. A couple of days ago, I had found a little piece of code that modified the digestive tract so that I was able to absorb much more nutrient than before. It had also reduced my bodily waste to a bare minimum. The system must have been some kind of military thing since I couldn't imagine any practical use to this.
When I was finished eating, I felt bloated and full. Patrick had been watching in disbelief as pound after pound of food had disappeared. I smiled at him and asked:
"Are you ready?"
He nodded once again. I activated the code I had used while defending myself and could feel the sudden swelling in my muscles. With a deep breath, my body spread, blowing up to inhuman proportions. After a few minutes, my growth slowed down. Patrick was shaking with disbelief and lust. My arms were covered in thick, striated muscles, resting on my enormous lats. My wonderfully artificial tits stood helplessly from thick slabs of pectoral muscle, the cleavage between them covered in massive cuts. They rested on my bloated stomach which the overgrown abdominals had pushed outside. I made a few tentative steps, my thighs and calves rubbing together. I walked over to Patrick, my hulking shape swaying with muscular power. Smiling from between my huge trapezii, I extended my over muscled arm and squeezed his pecs.
"How do you like this? Am I bigger?"
"In-indeed." he stuttered.
"Well, then, watch this!"
I lifted my arms, brought them in front of my body, rolled my shoulders forward and bent forward into a most muscular pose. With a desperate 'twang!', my leotard gave way.
"Now that I am naked, how about I showed you what these muscles are for."
I pushed him down. He sat down on an exercise mat and smiled. I crouched down, extended my tongue, and grabbed his dick with it. Patrick went wide-eyed in more ways than one. I never saw someone get hard quicker than him.
After squeezing and stroking his member for a while, I moved up, packing it between my boobs.
"Do you like that?"
It's a stupid question, I know, but it seemed to be the thing to say. Apparently, the answer was 'yes' anyway.
I squeezed and rubbed on, moving my tits by my pectorals. By this time, he was gasping for release, tears in his eyes, but I was not to be swayed by his pitiful pleas. Instead, I gently controlled his cock with my tongue, finally lifting myself on top of him. I released his rock-hard prick and lay my abdominals against it. Flexing them in turn, I massaged it further, grabbing it in the inch-deep folds between them. As I was preparing to move further up, ready to take him inside of me, I noticed in the corner of my mind that Helen was doing something. I focused on her and realised that she had twisted herself into a ring: she was licking herself into ecstasy. I channelled her feelings into my own and lowered myself on him. Within seconds, I was ready to come. Patrick realised what was about to happen and worked my cunt as hard as he could. This was quite difficult, since I was way to strong for his puny dick. Still, we came.

Later, when we had recovered, we lay huddled together on the exercise mat. Patrick was embracing me, he was clearly straining against my massive weight.
"Wow, that was excellent. I never had any sex similar to this."
"Me neither."
"You know what, I'll have to see how strong I really am now."
He gasped.
"You can watch, of course."

The day of the shooting arrived. I had reviewed the script and storyboard, tested it out at home a few times and chosen my costume. I arrived at the location at 7am. I'm not used to getting up this early, but Julia had been adamant. I walked in, carrying two suitcases and a backpack. Normally, I would have struggled to bear such a weight, but my new, tight muscles were easily strong enough. Of course, I had reduced my muscles back to their original level, but had created a small deposit of energy in my body in order to support any necessary changes.
I walked in on my ballet-boots and smiled at Julia. She was busy as hell, getting her boys and girls to ready the lighting, prepare the camera and set up the other equipment. She turned around and came to me.
"Hi mom!" She assessed me and added: "You look awesome. This is so going to work." She turned to one of her assistants and said: "Barry, could you help her with her stuff?"
He nodded and walked over, offering to take my suitcases. I smiled, knowing how heavy they were. The left one held my various pieces of torture equipment, the right one held Helen. Honestly, I doubted he'd be able to carry them. However, I was pleasantly surprised when he struggled, growing red-faced but managing to get the cases to the set.
I unslung the backpack and embraced Julia.
"I'm really proud of you. Let's hope all this works out."
She smiled, clearly a little envious of my tall and powerful shape and returned to work. I sat down, taking in the busy atmosphere.
After half an hour, I grew bored and picked a book from Helen's suitcase. It must have shocked the hands when a white latex hand holding a book emerged from it.

Anyway, the whole setup gained speed when the star arrived. The guy turned out to be rather bland. Honestly, when I was a teenager, my musical heroes were totally over the top. You know, mid 2030ies, everybody completely exhilarated, trying new genetically enhanced superdrugs, listening to early interface music, directly affecting your nervous system. Nowadays, the bounce-back of this binge makes your music totally flat. It's all about control. The whole interface thing has just shifted towards musician-controlled feelings. Whatever. The guy with whom I was supposed to work was a tall, lanky guy with thick, patterned skinsnakes. This was the new bodmod for the scene. You get your scalpskin to grow out and create 'snakes' made of skin, which are then tattooed. Looks like dreadlocks, only better customisable. He was wearing a black t-shirt and some tight black pants.
Actually, he was very courteous.
"Hello. My name is Darryl, pleased to meet you. Thank you for joining me today. I hope everything is alright."
Suffice to say, I liked him. I nodded, then he went over to talk to Julia.
When they were done, everybody got ready and the shot started. I unpacked Helen, got my make-up and had my emotional receptors attached, then we went to work.

Julia turned out to be an excellent director. Working on this tight schedule, she got everybody to perform as required. It all went well. I got Darryl to lick my boots, crushed his crotch and got him to act as a table while Helen served me drinks. I really had him begging for release after a while. Got him tied up too. Helen even locked him into some kind of evil pretzel using her superior flexibility and strength. In short, everything went well and we had great fun until his manager showed up. I think you may have guessed by now: It was the creep from the studio. He came in, smiling like the crazy fuck he was and walked around, watching us perform.
He looked me in the eye and I realised that he recognised me. He gave me his best psycho grin and attacked. I never saw anything like this happen. He just ran at me, slammed into me and threw me to the ground. The people around were way too surprised to react. He just grabbed my throat and started to throttle me. Surprisingly, I found him to be much stronger than last time. It was a stupid thing to realise at a time like this, but I had become a little detached of my own body lately. He squeezed and squeezed, twisting my neck. If he continued like this, he would kill me. I had already instinctively grabbed his arms but found him to be too strong. I gasped, turning purple under my make-up. Darryl tried to intervene, but the manager merely kicked him away. Taking all my wits together, I concentrated on getting Helen to help me. With a plump jerk, she launched herself at him, trying to pull him off. At the same time, I tried to activate the muscle growth, but I quickly found out that the stuff he had inside himself was way too potent. If he continued like this, he'd probably break both his arms from the strain, but he'd also kill me in the process. Helen struggled helplessly against him.
For a moment, I was at my wits' end. I started to feel tired, my vision blurred. At the same time, I was in total panic. I was dying. I was about to accept my fate, when a bold and totally idiotic idea hit me. I concentrated, detaching myself from the gruesome situation I was in. Instead of panicking, I merely felt an urge to throw up. Then, I assaulted his system's firewall. It was clear that he was using nanotech. Few other things could give you such a strength. If I was wrong, I'd die anyway, so it was worth the try. As my legs started to shake and people piled on him, trying to free me, I was gently knocking over the security of his system. Suddenly, a bright light appeared in front of my inner vision, I walked into it, unsure of whether I was dying or just entering his controls.

As my feelings faded away and my body disappeared, I forced him out of his own mind. I locked him in, shutting him out of his own body. As I took control, I saw my dead face through his eyes, ecstatic at my marvellous revenge. I felt the iron grip around my neck, felt the blood trying to flow into my head. Realising what I was doing, I collapsed his body. I felt a strange double reaction as his wiry, thin body fell on my swollen breasts and bounced to the ground.
The others grabbed him, pulled him off me and started to reanimate me. It was a totally bizarre out-of-body experience. When my breathing resumed, I shifted back into my body. I was sore, tired and completely out of breath. Julia and Helen were looking at me, both of them shocked but also relieved at my recovery. The on-set medic (who was also the cam operator) checked my vitals again and I had fell into a shock.

In the end, we all decided that it was best to keep the whole affair to ourselves. Both Julia and I were handsomely paid by Darryl's company. The manager, I later found out his name was Phil, remained locked up in himself. I had no qualms about leaving him this way and instead installed a kind of simple Turing engine to keep him alive and busy. Whenever I felt like it, I took control of him and made him do little things for me. Funny how he got what he paid for in the first place. Helen and him make a very nice set of servants for my daily life.

The whole awful episode faded after a while. Lately, I've been thinking about what to do with the money they gave me. Remembering Julia's impressed looks, I have been thinking about getting her her own set of nanotech. After all, this had turned out to be an excellent investment.