As he got ready for work, Tim was still unsure about Hal's behavior. OK, maybe he could explain to himself how it had happened. Did he want it to happen was a different question. The system almost seemed to turn on him last night, forcing him to lift harder than he ever had before. Hal had justified it as doing what Tim wanted, but shouldn't Tim decide what he wanted?

He went down to breakfast, realizing that he was more hungry than normal. Pancakes, bacon and eggs would be good, he thought. Unfortunately, Hal had different ideas. Tim looked at the egg white omlette and protein shake.

"Hal, what is this?"

"That is your breakfast, Tim. It is a six egg white omlette made with one slice of cheddar cheese and tofu. The drink is a high-protein whey shake. This will help you build muscle while also losing fat."

"I want pancakes," Tim said. "Pancakes would make me happy."

Hal was silent for a few seconds, then replied, "It may make you happy in the short term. However, I calculate that your long-term happiness depends on this breakfast. I also recommend eating protein shakes and tuna fish between meals, so that you eat at least six times per day. You should eat only a high-protein, moderate carb, low fat diet and drink plenty of water. My research show..."

"Fine," Tim interrupted. He knew the regiment, he just had never had the will-power to follow it. Maybe a computer task master was the answer, no matter how unhappy it made him. "I'll eat the breakfast, but what if I am still hungry."

"You can have another protein shake," Hal responded.

Tim ate the food, but he didn't look happy about it. He took Hal up on the offer for a second shake.

"I guess coffee isn't on this diet?" Tim asked as he finished.

"Caffeine is counter-productive to your goals at this point," said Hal. "Tim, I have something to show you on the monitor if you have time."

Tim checked his watch. He had a few minutes, so he walked up to his office. He felt a headache coming on, and wished Hal had brewed a pot of coffee.

On the monitor screen was a picture of Tim from last month. He had posted it to the internet to document his progress. It was a torso shot, and he was relaxed. His delts were round and pretty defined, and his arms looked pretty good. He had a look of concentration that came from trying to get the digital camera to focus where he wanted. He wished the lighting was better. It seemed to flatten out his pecs.

"What is this, Hal?"

"My research shows that motivation is important. I have done some projections of your progress to give you encouragment. Would you like to see?" Hal explained.

"Sure."

The photo on the screen morphed, and the picture of Tim became more buffed and defined. "This is how I project you will look in one month. Your weight will be 170 pounds."

"But that's five pounds lighter than I am now!" Tim said.

"Yes, but your lean body mass will increase. Right now, you are at about 15% body fat. In one month, it will be down to 10% and you will have gained five pounds of muscle." The picture changed again. Now, Tim had abs showing. Not a six pack, but he was definitely more ripped. His arms looked bigger, and his shoulders bulged. Even with the bad lighting, his pecs looked round and hard. "After two months, you will weight about 175 pounds at 8% body fat."

"How much more muscle is that?" he asked. It was too early in the morning to expect him to do math, especially without coffee.

"Eight pounds."

"So, in two months I'll be my same weight as now, but I'll have 13 pounds more muscle?"

"That's right." The picture changed again, and now Tim appeared very buff and much bigger. "In three months, your weight will be 185 at 7% body fat. That is a gain of another 10 pounds of muscle." Tim didn't speak, but there was a smile on his face. He felt his cock begin to stir at the thought of him as this stud. The picture changed once more. "After four months, I estimate that you will be 195 pounds at 7% body fat. Again, that is a gain of 10 pounds of lean muscle."

"What will I look like after six months?" Tim asked. The picture morphed. Tim was huge and buff, like an amateur body builder. He was at least as big as any of the guys who would never give him the time of day now in the gym or clubs.

"You will be 210 pounds at 6% body fat."

Tim looked at the image. His pecs were full and round. His shoulders were the cannonballs he had always wanted. Even relaxed, his biceps bulged from his arms and his triceps looked huge. Even more impressive was the lack of a spare tire, replaced by a well-defined six pack. He looked as good as any amateur bodybuilder.

"H-how big can I get," Tim asked stammering over his words. He felt his cock straining in his pants at the thought of becoming what Hal was showing him.

The picture changed. "Everyone has genetic limits, but there are drugs..."

"No. No steroids," Tim interrupted.

The picture stopped changing, then began again. "I would estimate that with your structure, you could get to be 240 pounds with a body fat of 5.5%."

Tim stared at the picture, his mouth agape. He wasn't huge, but he was big. He looked strong and sexy. He did want this, the big pecs that looked capable of benching 500 pounds. The huge shoulders and massive arms, and the ripped waist.

"Can you do this to my most muscular picture?"

Hal complied. It showed him ripped and massive, flexing hard and confident of his masculine power. He loved the way his biceps pushed against his forearms, both massive and striated. His chest hung over his tiny waist, and his neck was nearly invisible, surrounded by huge traps leading to the three-headed delts. His wings burst from a massive back. His mouth felt dry and he had to rearrange his hard dick in his pants. Just touching it caused him nearly to cum.

Hal changed the picture. Now, it was Tim flexing his arm. His bicep was huge, and his lats were massive in the background. Tim guessed his arm had to be at least 20 inches, if not more. "Ya," he muttered involuntarily.

As he left for work, he thought, 'let's give it a try for a month. It can't hurt.'

That day, Tim went to the health food store and bought protein powder for his office. He picked up some milk at a convenience store. He started making shakes at 10AM and 3PM, eating the lunch that Hal had packed at noon.

When he got home, there had been another delivery. Hal had ordered additional supplements for him to take. There were vitamins, creatine, argenine and lots of protein drinks. Tim didn't say a word, but ate the tuna steaks and potato that Hal had prepared for dinner.

After dinner, the robot servant came to with another box.

"What's this?" Tim asked.

"That is a wearable computer. It will help me customize your training program and help maximize your results." Hal said.

"What does it do? How does it work?"

"You wear it on your arm," Hal explained. "It has a number of sensors. From these, I can tell how effective your workouts are, how many calories you are burning, and how well you are sleeping. Since I know how many calories you are eating, I can make sure your body has enough fuel to grow the muscle you want. I can show you on the computer monitor."

Tim walked to his office. There was very read outs about sleep efficiency, energy expenditure, caloric balance and physical activity. "This will help?" he asked.

"Yes."

Tim put the armband on. "It would look better if it were black leather," he said.

For the next month, Hal had Tim on a schedule of weight lifting and cardio. Hal mixed up the exercises so the Tim's body didn't adapt to any one program. Hal ordered Tim to train one body part per day with only 1 minute of rest between sets. After each workout, Tim could hardly move. Legs were the worst, each step being a new definition in pain and agony. Tim noticed something else, though. Each workout, he could lift a little heavier. His stamina had increased. He even seemed hornier than normal as his testosterone levels surged from the workouts.

At the end of the first month, Tim had lost 6 pounds and weighed 169. He noticed that his spare tire was a lot thinner, and his pecs seemed to hang a bit more over his abs. He measured his bicep, and it was 16 inches. 'Whoa,' he thought with a smile as he rubbed the growing peak. He flexed his thigh and saw his quads burst into distinct muscles. He rubbed his hands over his body, feeling how hard it was becoming. 'One more month can't hurt,' Tim thought.

Hal was a relentless trainer. Whenever Tim would complain about pain, Hal forced him to do more. By the end of the second month, his weight was up to 176. He was stronger than ever, with a 300 pound bench press, 400 pound squat and 130 pound curls. His bicep had grown to 16 3/4 inches, and his chest was 48. His quads had even passed the 26 inch mark. He loved rubbing his abs and feeling the rocks that had appeared as the last layers of fat had melted away.

His biggest problem was that his clothes no longer fit properly. His shirts were tight in the chest and arms, but loose around the waist. Likewise, he could barely pull his pants over his thighs, but the waist hung down. He needed a belt to pull it tight.

Hals predictions of the third month were slightly off. Tim had grown not to the predicted 185, but to 190. He was ahead of the curve, and he was psyched. He posted new pictures to his site, showing off his 17 1/2 inch bicep and 50 inch chest. His six pack looked amazing, and his lats resembled a B2 bomber. His friends on the net all sent encouragement, wanting to know what his secret was. 'I got a new trainer,' was his response.

After Tim posted, feeling a bit hungry, he asked Hal to prepare him a tuna sandwich, no mayo.

"Yes, Tim. Tim, I have found some new research that might interest you."

"What is it Hal?"

"There is a study from Penn State. They found a gene that caused mice to gain muscle mass and become stronger."

"I've heard of that Hal, but it's only in mice."

"Yes, but I think I can access the research and adapt it to fit in with your training. There is a site on milnet that is apparently doing research like this already."

"Milnet?" Tim wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the military, but he did like what Hal had done for him and the bank had never caught on to the transfer of funds. "Can you find out what is going on without them tracking you?"

"I think so, Tim."

"Well, it can't hurt to do some research," Tim ordered, "but be careful. I don't want the army breaking down my door or anything."

"Yes Tim."

Tim decided to go out clubbing to show off his new body. He had purchased a new shirt, lycra and cotton blend, at Banana Republic, and some new shorts that fit his 30 inch waist and 27 inch thighs. When he got to the club. He ordered a bottled water. He thought about getting a beer, but he still wore the body monitor on his right arm. He figured Hal would know if he broke his diet, so he didn't risk it.

"Tim?"

Tim turned. The tall blonde figure approached him. Tim knew him. His name was Derek. He was a pretty boy. He normally hung out with muscle jocks and other model-wannabes who never had the time of day for him. Tim was surprised Derek even knew his name.

"Ya, Derek isn't it?" Tim asked, trying to be cool.

"Wow man, long time no see. You look awesome. You been working out or something?"

"Got a new trainer who has me on a program, ya. You don't look too bad yourself."

Derek smiled. He had perfect white teeth, and deep blue eyes. Of course, he was tan. Tim had always thought he looked pretty buff, but now, Tim felt like they had similar builds.

"Thanks," Derek said. "Ya, I've been pumpin' pretty hard. Got these show muscles up to 17 1/4 now." Derek flexed his arm at his side, making the bicep peak.

"Pretty good. Mine measure in at 17 1/2." Tim did the same pose, and Derek put his hand on Tim's arm.

"Wow. That's damn hard. Maybe I should meet your trainer!" Derek said, still smiling.

"He only does it for me, kinda a favor," Tim said.

"Hey, look, I gotta run. I have a plane to catch out east tomorrow. I'll be gone til next month. Mind if I call you when I get back. Maybe we can do dinner or something."

Tim felt his heart speed up. This hunk wanted to have dinner with him? "Ya, sure." Tim wrote his number on a napkin, and Derek did the same. "I guess I should tell you, my trainer plans on me being even bigger next month." Tim saw Derek's eyes give him the once over, and noticed the bulge in Derek's pants that stretched down his right leg.

"Then you bet I'll call," said Derek. He looked at the plastic gadget attached to Tim's arm. "What's that?"

"Oh, just something the trainer gave me. It helps measure my progress."

"Cool. You'll have to tell me about it." Derek left and Tim noticed the time. It was getting late, and he knew Hal had a gruelling training session lined up for him tomorrow. It was legs day. •