Stallion Treatment Ch. 01

Just a little larger

"Maybe 23 cm," I said, "just long enough to fill me completely full and grind on my clit. And a little bit bigger around, 15 cm?"

Nathan looked down at the gift certificate to Body Mods he had pulled out of the envelope, then looked back up at me. "You never complained before."

"Oh, Sweetie, I'm not complaining. You're very big for a Natural."

He grimaced. My husband had always prided himself on being 100% Real Male - no enhanced muscle growth, no cybernetic brain interface implants, no ocular enhancements (or even corrections - very rare nowadays), and definitely his own natural-born genitals. His parents were Christian Scientists, and while he didn't subscribe to their religion, he definitely subscribed to their morals.

As a result, his trim, athletic body and natural hair growth pattern look a little, well, unfashionable compared to the smooth, mountainous bodybuilders that stalked the streets of our habitat. I have to admit, that old-fashioned look was what first attracted me to him, and when I learned how much effort went into shaping and strengthening his body, I was duly impressed. Two hours a day of exercise in a gymnasium with chunks of metal and strange bags and water-filled pools. And, in the Greek tradition, all done entirely "gymnos", or nude.

Even Nathan's digestion was untouched by modern technology - instead of feasting glutinously on prepared foodpaks and having most of the calories unabsorbed, he cooked moderately sized meals from raw food. "Healthy food for healthy living," he liked to say. He insisted I do it for him, too.

And the result was impressive, in an out-of-date sort of way. He had muscle striations along his forearms and legs under a taut layer of skin. His abdominals only featured a six-pack rather than the usual eight, and the plates of muscle didn't bulge out in the middle like regular store-bought male bodies. His biceps and triceps formed a pleasing shape, widening naturally from the elbow to flair out in the middle of his upper arms, then dove back before the shoulder, but without the highly vascular tendrils of blood vessels sticking out every which way from the surface. And his biceps bulged pleasantly, but didn't have the double peak present on every man with the money to buy a Jock Body rather than be a Potato.

And maybe that was the problem. He didn't look like he had money. Except that he didn't look like he spent his days uselessly simming in front of a screenwall, either. He was a conundrum.

And a pretty one at that. He didn't have the usual sculpted high squaring on his jaw, or the requisite cleft on his chin, or the perfectly triangular nose. Instead, his high cheekbones and the slight epicanthic fold on his green eyes spoke of ancestors from the old Eastern European countries - Poland or Russia, perhaps. His 90 kg mass had no fat, and his 180 cm height was above average for an unenhanced man.

My husband was the opposite of modern. He was like a classical symphony orchestra in a CypherHead arena. And while I was willing to mostly let him be, I just wanted a little something more for *me*.

"Come on, Sweetie, it won't hurt anything. Look, your penis is 19 cm right now. I'm only asking for a little bit more. My sex therapist says that my orgasms will be much harder if you could stimulate the back of my posterior fornix when we fuck. And I can get there faster if you were just a little bigger around - I mean, we're talking about a 10% increase around, and maybe a 20% increase in length. No one will know."

He looked me straight in the eye. "*I'll* know. And it's a cheat."

There it was - the idea that modern technology was cheating. Like I'd never heard *that* before. I decided to take a different tack. "Oh, so lifting things naked all day long *isn't*?"

"Nope," he declared proudly, ignoring my exaggeration, "my body got this way on its own in response to natural movement."

"Well, is there anything natural you can do to make your penis bigger fast?" I asked, watching him intently.

His squinted stare wavered, then dropped. "Not that I know of," he admitted. "Maybe if I pull on it..."

I shook my head. "Don't be silly. Two years of traction for 2 cm of length? I can't wait that long. Why not just use the gift certificate? You can get the same shape, and it will be perfectly biological, like you grew it yourself. And it will only take a few days, not a few years."

Nathan pondered, his head cocked to one side. I almost had him.

"You're really unhappy, Kim?" he asked.

I thought back to yesterday afternoon, and how he had slipped into the shower with me, wordlessly bent me over, a slid his slender penis into my always-willing pussy. The man had a way with me, that was certain, and he didn't even keep the usual harem of competition that most men in his position would have.

"No, not *un*happy. I'm just not *as* happy as I could be in bed. We have good sex, but I want it to be great sex. Come on, Sweetie, can't you at least go and talk to the staff about it? For me?" I smiled and batted my unnaturally long lashes - a small enhancement, but it saved me a ton of time putting on mascara.

He sighed, then nodded. "Okay. To talk."

"Wonderful!" I clapped my hands excitedly. "I made you an appointment. It's today at 1500. If we hurry, we can stop at CoffeePark on the way there!"

"Lot of confidence you had, making an appointment and assuming I'd go," he said.

"Silly," I said. "I had it queued up before I gave you that envelope. I just clicked Send when you weren't looking." With my fingers, on my pad. Nathan made far more than merely decent money, but he wasn't so wealthy as to want to blow a bundle for me to get an interface, and there was no way on Gaia's green earth that Nate would ever get one for himself.

***

As it ended up, Nate wouldn't go to CoffeePark, and instead insisted on a walk in an ordinary park near the clinic. We'd tubed over right away, and I'd expected to get a StimShot (tripple espresso and a small grain of amphetamine), but as usual, my husband wanted to exercise. But I was winning, so I didn't say anything. I knew once I got him inside the clinic, it would be a slam dunk. What man who ever lived *doesn't* want a bigger dick? Hint: all of them would fit between the teeth of a hair clip with room to spare.

"This is the place," he said, and walked in. I hurried after him before the doors could slide back together. Nate looked around the waiting room. I could tell he didn't hate it, despite the modern B-flat styling, and that was something. And I had one more trick up my sleeve. I'd chosen this clinic specifically because it was staffed entirely with women. I knew how much he liked to look. And flirt. And every so often, bring home something sweet for us to share.

"Good morning. Do you have an appointment?" asked the generically pretty "red" head with the carefully pleasant expression at the front desk. A flick of her index finger brought up a floating list of patients and matching faces. It was the end of the day, and we were the last.

"Why don't *you* tell *me*?" Nate asked her with a mischievous smile. "Seems you have it already figured out."

"Indeed I do... *Mister* Petrov!" she said quickly, her demeanor suddenly changing from casually pleasant to sexually interested. Yes, we were wealthy enough that Nathan was a Mister. No title for me, though - I just sponged off of his. Ours is a non-exclusive arrangement. I just call him my husband, it isn't legally official. He wasn't about to give me that kind of control over him. Few men ever did, nowadays.

But he gave me an account, and I did the shopping (you wouldn't believe how much effort it takes finding natural food around here), managed the flat, and provided sex on demand. And I didn't have to have a job, although I'd had enough work done to rate at least a receptionist position at a swanky place like this. Real receptionist, no screen or bot - this place did well.

"This way, please, Mister," said the redhead deferentially, standing up to give us a perfect view of her flat abdomen, turning to give Nathan a perfect profile of her conical breasts (no bra), and taking two steps forward and around the desk to give Nathan a perfect view of the cleft of her butt cheeks. She knew her business. We followed behind.

"Please have a seat. The doctor will be in shortly." Red leaned over to fetch some beverages out of a small cooling alcove under the desk, making her cleavage more prominent. Nathan smiled, flicked his eyes at me, then returned to staring shamelessly. Yes, some very nice work. I should get some of those, I thought. If Nate would pay for them.

Red set down a drink pak, which I knew Nathan wouldn't touch, then chirped brightly, "Please let me know if there's *anything* you need." She brushed by him and laid a hand on his shoulder in passing, no doubt gauging the firm muscle. Hmm, she was giving me a run for my money. I'd have to be more careful about the place I chose next time. If there was a next time.

In no time flat, the chief - I could tell by her medical smock - walked in and sat down. Like I said, an all-woman place. What my Nate didn't know is that they viewed *me* as the customer, not him. They had a reputation - and a business model - of following the woman's preference on the man's enhancement. I'd found them after some research, asking some of my more militant friends in the Battle of the Sexes.

"Hello, Mister Petrov. I am Mara Tisdale, clinic chief. I've been briefed on your enhancement, but I want to go over it with you before we get started." This one had natural blonde hair (whatever that means, nowadays) and spectacular, rounded breasts that showed through her lab whites. The miniskirt seemed to be standard issue here today.

"Hold on a minute there. We're here to talk. I'm not ready to get changed around."

Mara took a quick look at the form floating to her left. "A Natural, then? Impressive," she said, looking him up and down. "Rest assured that your Natural-100 status won't be changed by this enhancement, as a slower traction-based alternative would have the same effect as the bio-acceleration we are going to perform." She didn't miss a beat, already assuming Nate's consent. "In fact, regulations allow us to double your natural size without any loss of status."

That seemed to mollify Nate a little. "Natural Mister" is a rare title, indeed. Most men take the shortcuts when they are wealthy enough to be called Mister.

"May I please see the organ in question?" Mara asked.