I had a lot on my mind as I remoted into work about a half-hour later. Really, the fact that I was on remote was the only reason I’d be able to do any of this. I had an email thanking me for the investigation work, and two others from coworkers thanking me PROFUSELY for finally catching Michaels red-handed. There were several beers promised when I was feeling myself again. Actually, speaking of. One of the categories was Immune, right? And Excretory? Time to get to work. While my first scan was going, a period I usually sat around and watched videos for, I poked around the top level menus. I was looking for things like how to pull updates. Maybe, you know, a way to make some macros or shortcuts. If I was going to be doing this often, I wanted to be able to click some really reliable picks. Under the Immune system, I found tendencies to attack own tissues (reduce to minimum), histamine response (tuned way down), specific histamine overreaction (zeroed), immune power (way up), and lots more. So, theoretically, I should be darned near immune to any bug that comes my way, with no allergies or autoimmune tendencies anymore. This one didn’t really hurt, though I got hungry again quickly. That one, I saved.

Back to paid work. Lots of papers to fill out, lots of alerts to filter through. So many recommendations for tuning, so many obnoxiously tiny actions. It was maddening, especially knowing that I had things of life-changing importance on literally the other monitor, but I had to use up my time making sure I didn’t freaking starve. Why did capitalism have to… capitalism so hard? Oh yeah. Speaking of not starving. Set a grocery order for delivery. As much in the way of cheap calories as I possibly could. Lots of peanut butter. My diet wouldn’t be the most varied ever, but it should… SHOULD… provide enough fuel for the changes I was putting myself through. My bank account wept silently at me. If this didn’t work out, I’d be in serious trouble.

Ah, right, money. Contract. Had to write one for Lindsey… although, thinking about it, all I had to do was set hers to be conditional and run out horribly if she backstabbed me. Huh. That felt… well, it also felt dirty. I didn’t like the thought of enforcing my will on someone like that. What even would the condition be? Nah. Contract it. Monetary baseline for her current estimated earnings, half the difference, services on my side boosting her earnings, done.

And now a thing I didn’t imagine ever doing before. Researching what went into making boobs perky, what gave them their shape. You know, a surprisingly complicated question, as it turned out. Shape, skin elasticity, material density, connective tissue, and other minor factors. I thankfully knew the name of a woman in the building who had what I considered to be a very nice pair, and looked at them for templates. Not quite what I expected, but you know I couldn’t complain.

While I was thinking with my again-swollen balls, I made sure to set my sperm motility and penetration to zero. It would absolutely NOT do for me to have an unexpected child right now.

I started tweaking Lindsey’s settings, after sending her a message that I was doing so. It wouldn’t do for her to be sitting at a computer when her boobs did a Studio Gainax impression. Or when they sprung outward again, because she had spare body fat and I had an idea of the best boobs on the internet. Which were much larger than even her current ones. Why should she settle for an F cup? Another couple of pounds of material, if I did the math right, would boost her into the J range. I set it to change over the course of the next couple of hours like I warned her, and hit Apply.

Back to the job for a bit. Start another scan. Back to Master PC, onto my own profile. Time for another of those minor experiments with my own skin. Kill the acne, regulate the oil, even out the skin tone, get the whole elasticity thing repaired.. Save settings. When I applied this one, it felt really strange. Itchy and crawly all over, but when it stopped a few moments later one look in the mirror told me I’d made the right choices. I looked dramatically better, between my slowly-developing muscles and new skin I could pass as almost attractive for once.

My thoughts on this were interrupted by a knock on the door. Odd, I wasn’t expecting anyone. I stood, stretched out, and walked over to the front door. When it opened, my jaw dropped. Standing on the other side were boobs that could launch a thousand ships… apiece. Each was enormous, a proud globe with just enough sag to prove their reality, standing firmly forward with enough perk and power to form hints of cleavage together without the assistance of a shirt. Motion rippled through them as their owner moved slightly, breathing and bouncing. It took a moment, but then my brain caught up with the fact that they were, in fact, attached to someone. With an effort of will, I dragged my eyes upwards to their owner’s face. Lindsey was there looking lusty. “You. Get on your bed. Now.”

In a blink, we were there, her newly-glorious chest wrapped around my painfully erect dick, engulfing it in warm softness and pumping at me until I exploded all over her cleavage. We both seemed to snap back to ourselves just then, but the lusty drive she had been in the middle of stayed with her a bit. She sat on my bed, back against the wall to prop herself up, licking the cum off of herself.

“Uh, wow, okay Lindsey. That was amazing.”

“So is your idea of perfect boobs. You model these off of someone or were they freestyle?”

I had to breathe a few times more. “Kind of fifty-fifty. Looked up a bunch of stuff, then took some templates from women around here and stats from one of my favorite nude models.”

“Okay, I can live with that. Just need you to do two things next.”

“Sure, what do you want?”

“First up, muscles. These babies are HEAVY. Especially in my back and my core, I need a lot of help.”

“I can do that, no problem. And the other thing?”

“You need a bigger dick. It gets lost in my cleavage now.”