Vincent looked at his handy work. He could see the muscle tone he had added to William. Glancing down, the semi-erect monster he had given him was perched above the enhanced balls. A light tan line indicated a time in the sun in a revealing speedo.
Vincent liked what he saw. He knew that his appreciation of the sculpted male form before him didn't mean he was gay: the Chronivac had placed him as a four on the six numbered scale. Vincent knew what he liked. He also knew what he hated.
He hated William.
Two years ago when William had started with the company he had been ok. Even though Vincent had arrived three months before him, they had been assigned the same tasks. However, when he had laid eyes on the boss's daughter eight months ago, everything had changed. Things hadn't changed in any way that could be defined but now William was being given more responsibility, more authority, more opportunity. Some might say that it was because he worked harder. It was hard to tell. Vincent knew himself. He worked, but work wasn't his life. Some claimed that William worked harder. Their evaluations from six months ago had said so much. But that was just based on data and sales and complaints from others in the office. It wasn't real.
Vincent saw through the bullshit. Vincent knew what William was, who he is. He's a fucker. A fucker who tricked the boss's daughter into liking him, a fucker who was starting to fuck his way to the top.
That fucker hadn't even invited Vincent to the wedding. He'd heard there had been a cocktail hour and an open bar. That fucker!
Vincent had wanted revenge. It wasn't until he scoured the dark web looking for something, that he came upon the program and the power to make William into the best fucker he could be.
Vincent had thought for a while about making him hideous or just getting rid of Jocelyn. But that wasn't good enough. To just undo the bullshit wasn't going to end the insult, the disrespect. Instead, he decided to make him the best fucker possible. If William was going to fuck his way to the top, he better be a top-tier fucker.
Today's series of changes and embarrassments were just the beginning. Vincent was going to make sure that anyone who thought about William Jones thought about not who he was, but what he wanted to be, a stud, a player, a piece of meat.
All of these thoughts where in Vincent's head as he had helped the confused man into his van and as they sat down at the table.
So, instead of sitting there and making conversation, Vincent worked through options on the app, rewriting history, desire and ability. Ultimately having fun with the possibilities.
The first thing he did was look around the room for inspiration. His eyes flicked to the TVs.
Baseball. Vincent slid a few buttons and a new outfit appeared on William.