Future tense
Martin Kane
A futuristic world looks back.

Author's note:

Anyone wishing to contact me may do so via the DtV messageboard for Readers &
Writers. I invite anyone to send any comments, good or bad, should they wish
to. I'm always interested in what others think of my little tales.

Copyright is mine. I'd be flattered if anyone wanted to use this tale
elsewhere, but please seek permission first.

Needless to say this story is purely a fiction and all characters merely the
products of an overwrought imagination.

I'll abstain from the adult content warning, if you've got this far, you're
certain to know what kind of thing to expect anyway.


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The party is in her apartment, a luxury condo building on the North side of 
town - above the Business District.

Suki has tipped the doorman and he wears a tin-net, pre set to all the ID 
cards of the guests.  He greets them all personally, the earphone tipping 
him off each time a guest arrives.  He directs them to the private elevator, 
which she has rented for the night.

The elevator man takes their coats and personals, offering each guest a 
drink from the auto-bar, so when they arrive on her floor, the elevator 
opening directly into her apartment, they already feel like they're at the 
party.

It's the little details that make the overall impression.  Opulence and 
luxury - the best the modern world has to offer.  She knows how to do 
corporate entertainment, it's her business after all, and she's spared no 
expense.

The decision to host this gathering here is nothing to do with the added 
expenditure of hiring a more conventional hall or building.  It's about the 
intimacy of the effect (though make no mistake here, her rooms are certainly 
spacious enough for the seventy or so guests.)

Though the building is state of the art, and comes equipped with an auto-bar 
in every conceivable location necessary (even in the elevators no less!) she 
had hired bar staff and a traditional style wooden veneer assembly.  Fully 
equipped with whichever drink or drug you could possibly desire.

Suki herself stands in an authentic, antique gown - pure silk.  She 
delicately sips on a glass of vintage, taking the occasional discreet snort 
from the tube attached to her wrist with a small silver chain.  The alcohol 
does nothing for her as she has an implant filter in her stomach.  The drugs 
however provoke a gentle rush, sharpening her mind and making her fingers 
tingle.  The sensation is pleasantly akin to the adrenaline rush these 
events always give her.  

She has her own tin-net wired, giving her the heads up whenever another 
guest is arriving.  It also prompts her with any necessary data on each 
individual client, though she rarely requires it.  She has hand picked the 
guest list herself and knows each of their files intimately.

As they each arrive, she greets them amiably, a hearty smile and quick, 
friendly kiss, instantly breaking the ice and dropping any potential 
businesslike formality.  In fact, her tongue has been in more mouths this 
evening than in the preceding month.  She made sure to visit her oral 
hygienist this morning, as well as the obligatory stylist.

Once inside, the guests are treated to a view from the main entrance hall, 
overlooking the vast city beneath them.  Those who have not seen it before 
are suitably awed.  There are of course a few who feign nonchalance but no 
one could truly be indifferent to such a sight, no matter how many times 
they'd seen it.

There are hired entertainers, just to ensure that the party goes with a 
swing.  Two kung-fu mimes battle each other in tai-chi slow motion.  It is a 
display of grace and beauty coupled with a physical strength close to that 
of ballet that is necessary for them to hold such poses at such a controlled 
and precise speed.

A close-up illusionist wanders around, offering cards and coins.  But such 
has been done before, and few are impressed by his dexterity, no matter how 
accomplished.

In one of the function rooms, a large broadcast screen dominates.  This is 
clearly the home cinema system but the seating has been removed due to the 
bar set-up.  It displays bestial pornography, more an inkling of the 
hostess' sense of humour than her personal tastes.  (One assumes.)  The 
volume is mercifully mute, and so does not detract from the band.

Two bar-staff serve.  They are both young and pretty, their naked bodies 
smooth and perfect.  The hues of pink and blue of their painted flesh a 
reflection of traditionalism, when once the two genders were each signified 
by such.

The waiters and waitresses are also coloured so, two male and two female, 
kept modest only by the use of body paint.  They have obviously been 
selected for their sexual allure.  Each is as genetically perfect as any 
standard could possibly exact.

The band themselves perform in the parallel function room.  A classical 
combo of a full drum set and three guitars - bass, lead, and rhythm.  They 
are radio-jacked into the apartment's own sound system, the angry noise 
thumping out of every wall giving the impression that you are immersed in 
sound.  The educated amongst the guests nod their head in approval of the 
subtle nuances of harmonies within clashing scales.

The augment is chained up.  Her wrists are bound with heavy leather cuffs 
that are chained tightly to a hook somewhere up on the high ceiling.  Her 
arms are stretched above her head though slightly apart.  They are huge.

She wears leather, a kind of bondage-chic.  The tiniest of bikini tops in 
black leather, the straps of metallic twine.  Steel glimmers within the 
immaculately fine design moulded to encompass her breasts.  And what 
breasts.  Prominent and sizeable, yet with a forceful jut and solid weight 
absent from less muscled physiques.

Her shoulders and neck are also huge, keeping in proportion to the massive 
arms.  The sheer power shimmering away within then, brimming just beneath 
the surface, is intimidating to say the least.

Her torso is the triangular wedge of ancient athletes, but more pronounced 
due to her overstated musculature.  Though not the tiny and unnatural 
circumference of the modern day modified designer-models, in comparison to 
her awesome shoulders, her waist is small.  Though still pulsing with 
muscle.  Her belly is a rippling wash of abdominals so hard and defined they 
look as though they could repel bullets.  And so smooth - polished - they 
look like steel. 

Another leather and metal garment covers her modesty, though only just.  
This outfit is designed to display after all.  And the legs.  Thicker than 
those anyone here has ever seem.  Muscles like no others.  They look as 
though some surgeon has mistakenly let animal genetics into the mix - some 
huge and all-powerful beast - for surely muscles like that cannot be 
possible on a human scale.

Yet the flesh is human, there is no doubt of that.  Despite the extreme 
nature of their power and development, they are a perfect example of shape 
and design.  It is as though someone had taken the most beautiful legs of a 
modern day designer-model, the most perfectly sleek and toned.  And then 
turned the volume up to a hundred.  Exaggerated every aspect of them to come 
up with these incomparable limbs.

On the whole, she is the most extreme, formidable, astounding and 
breathtaking being any one of the guests has before lain eyes upon.

She stands silently, bound and stunning.  Her sight is impeded by a 
blindfold of black velvet; her head tilted forward a little as though trying 
to compensate for this handicap with her remaining senses.  The guests move 
around her, taking in the wondrous sight, trying to comprehend what they're 
seeing and all that it means.

Suki found this particular wonder at a show.  She was researching for such 
acts, as well as spending her evening winding down after a heavy business 
meet - kicking back around the fringe areas.  It was where she had come 
across some of the more obscure talents she had presented.

It was a show recalling the lost vaudeville acts of old.  Most of the 
performers were forgettable but she'd seen this woman and been instantly 
struck dumb.

The floor had a cosy and intimate atmosphere.  There were a number of tables 
around the stage.  Suki was sat close.  Old-fashioned style raconteurs 
entertained the audience between a variety of dance numbers, musical 
performances, a psychic, a staged suicide, which she couldn't quite be sure 
was genuine or not.  And then the primitive.

She had lumbered onto the stage, ape-like, and dressed applicably in cloth 
and animal print.  She carried a rough club and moved simian across the 
stage.  She raised her arms, swinging the club, her amazing muscles flexing 
massively.

A monologue ran over the action, suitably tinged with reverb, smoke and 
dingy, smog lighting.  'In the early days, when the world was young - life 
was a daily struggle for survival.  Only the strongest would thrive.'

She gave an appropriately primeval growl and flexed her muscles again.  It 
went on.  She defeated a reasonably impressive animate model dinosaur, every 
motion and step she took on stage merely an excuse to flex her muscles once 
more.  The performance art continued in this vein until switching suddenly 
to more modern times, a more civilised age.

She quick-changed through a bubble of smoke and lighting, into a 
sophisticate, suddenly appearing, dragging on a cigarette through a holder, 
tights and top hat, tuxedo and tie; plush velvet.  What was commonly known 
as the Marlene Dietrich look, after one of the original heroes of the 
broadcast age.

Her act became sultry, a seduction of movement and dance.  Each kick of the 
leg or shimmy was designed to highlight her musculature but now it was done 
with a focus on sensuality rather than brute strength - an appreciation of 
the aesthetics of the display.

Not that strength was discounted.  After she'd shown off to a slow swing 
number, she lifted the cane she'd been dancing with, to show that it was in 
fact an iron rod.  She removed the jacket to show off her arms and massive 
torso once more, a sleeveless blouse that was cut off beneath her prominent 
bosom.

From what she could remember of fashion history, Suki was pretty sure that 
the Dietrich look didn't include such garments but she let it go.  Given 
that humans and dinosaurs were millions of years apart, such a small detail 
was probably unimportant.  Anyway, who's to complain when the result if a 
view of arms and belly like that?

She let a few members of the audience examine the rod - test it for 
strength.  Suki was one of the lucky few, getting so close to that fantastic 
physique that she thought her heart would explode within her chest.

The rod indeed was solid.  There was no way anyone could bend it with their 
own simple brute strength, no matter the size of their muscles.

But she was wrong.

First the woman half bent it, forcing her arms around the bar, turning the 
corners in.  Her arms bulged obscenely as she exerted her strength.  It 
looked as though the biceps would actually burst through the skin, they were 
so huge and swollen.  

She forced the two ends of the metal together, moulding it with her 
indomitable strength.

The audience mutely clapped, too shocked by the achievement to give it the 
standing ovation it deserved.  But she wasn't done yet.

She crossed her arms and pulled the two ends past each other, turning the 
bend in the middle into a loop, and pulling the ends out again.

Suki was actually holding her breath, anticipating what this woman was about 
to do, just not believing it.  

Sure enough, the woman then took one iron end and twisted it around in her 
hand, actually passing it through the centre of the loop, tying it in a knot 
like a rope.

She then grasped both ends and pulled them out again, tightening the knot.

The knotted bar was passed around a disbelieving audience.  Some refused to 
accept it was real, that the massive woman on stage was in fact an 
illusionist and that no one, no matter how physically developed could do 
what she had just done.

But Suki had been sitting close.  Her eyes had never left the woman.  She'd 
have seen a switch.  And more than that.  She'd seen the woman's muscles 
strain while she bent the metal to her will.

She took the bar in her hands when it was her turn, feeling the heat of the 
knot.  Like all others, she tried to twist or bend the bar even a fraction.  
But it wouldn't budge.  It was still solid, only now it was in a different 
shape.

Suki approached the woman after the performance.  She actually had to fight 
her way through most of the audience, all wanting a closer look at this 
marvel.  

She was posing for pictures, chatting happily.  Letting the occasional 
person feel her biceps, those who had courage enough to ask.

But Suki could effortlessly handle crowds effectively enough and she slipped 
through to catch the woman's attention.

'Do you do private performances?'

The woman responded with a curiously equivocal expression.

Suki read it quickly and hastily added, 'I'm hosting a corporate function 
and I'm looking to hire a variety of more unconventional performers.'

'Sure,' the woman answered, easier.  'I'll give you my card.'

She held up her hand as a light-pen unfolded from the invisible tape around 
her index finger.  She touched it to the panel on Suki's sheet-screen.

Suki smiled and retreated.  She had thought the woman would be a hit at the 
party and she had been right.

At the party guests swarm around her, 
fascinated by this amazing and beguiling woman.

'It's incredible,' an elegantly suited woman remarks.  'I wonder if she's 
really as strong as she looks.'

'She must be.'  This from a similarly elegant man.  Younger than the first 
woman but quite clearly into her.  The fact that he's been following her 
around the party since they were first introduced does nothing to detract 
from this indication.  'I mean, our strength comes from the muscles and it's 
quite clear that her muscles are considerably larger than ours.'

'You know, she's not a real primitive,' another man, older and more self-
possessed.  'She's exactly the same as you and I.  It's just that she's 
chosen to have her physique radically altered.  Apart from that, there's no 
difference.' 

'But she'd be stronger.  Her body is infinitely more powerful than anyone 
else here.'

'Oh certainly.  I only mean that she's not the medieval being she appears to 
be.  She may have the body of an early bodybuilder but in all other respects 
she's a modern woman.'

'I think it's kind of sexy,' the woman remarks.  

A younger girl beside her giggles.  She is less elegant and more obvious 
than the older woman.  Her make-up and pheromone-enhancers are woefully 
overdone; her dress chosen to display her own prominent breasts.  From all 
she has said this evening, it is apparent that the she truly is the bimbo 
her appearance suggests.  Her IQ is lower than her bra size.  Not that she's 
wearing a bra.

'Can you imagine what it would be like bedding her?' the younger man 
wonders.  From the wistful expression on his face as he eyes the augment's 
fabulous muscles, it appears quite clear that he's doing just that.

'She'd kill you in the act,' the older man sneers.

'But what a way to go,' the woman agrees, just as aroused as her admirer.  
'If I had to choose a method of execution then I can't think of one I'd more 
rather than being supped insensible by this gorgeous freak.'

The younger girl has apparently had all she can take of this.  With a final 
'Uew,' and a wrinkle of her designer-nose, she leaves them.  The younger of 
the two men hopes that the other will follow her and leave him alone with 
his conquest once more.  The older man clearly wants to bed the bimbo, his 
eyes haven't left her mammoth chest once, even when encountering the amazing 
augment.

The older man stays however, turning his attention onto the older woman.  He 
raises an eyebrow at her admission.  'Really?'

'God yes.  She could snap you in half with the sheer excess of her passions, 
crush you within her vital grip, and still make you beg her not to stop.'

He turns back to the gorgeous freak in question.  Supped to death?  A 
curious concept no doubt, and not without its appeal.

'Did women really use to look like this?' the younger man says, shaking his 
head in wonder.

'Yes.  Incredible though it seems today.  Men too, in fact.'

'I didn't know they were capable of such physical reconstruction back in the 
twenty-first century.  The technology isn't that old.'

'It's not,' the older man explains.  'Back then they used to use a 
combination of drugs and machinery.'

'But surely, cybernetics was later than that too,' the woman protests.

'No I mean they used machinery to help alter their bodies.  I'm not quite 
sure how it worked but it was something to do with damaging the muscle and 
then the body would heal - only when it healed it was better and stronger.  
They'd overstrain it so when it recovered, it had to become more powerful to 
compensate for the exertion placed upon it.  Then they'd damage it again and 
it would reheal even stronger.'

'Seems a bizarre method of self-improvement,' the younger man remarks.

'It seems a very long and laborious process.  Not to mention hard work.'

'Perhaps,' he says.  'But you can't deny the results it had in reshaping 
their bodies.  It was considered a higher state of physical being and a 
major accomplishment.  It was also a strength of mind, not just the body.  
Anyone who could achieve that kind of physique had to be dedicated and 
disciplined.  They had to have amazingly strong will.  They called it 
pumping iron.  I suppose because the machinery was made of iron.  And also
working out.  I guess because they were working out a better physical 
impression.'

He nods, glad to be impressive with his knowledge.  He takes a sip of his 
drink and ponders for a moment or two.  It makes the younger man wonder 
whether he has a tin-net secretly hidden, trying to gain favour only without 
admitting to artificial assistance.  Whether this is so or not, the man 
continues.

'Actually bodybuilding began in the twentieth century, though it was 
extremely obscure for a number of years.  It became more and more accepted, 
and then it became the norm.  Eventually most of Old Americans took it up at 
one level or another, working out was considered just another part of the 
daily routine.  It was as natural and normal as taking a shower or brushing 
your teeth.  Those as muscular as our gigantic friend here were more 
unusual, but you were considered highly freakish if you didn't possess some 
level of discernible musculature.

'There are always odd-balls and rebels in any society, but when they are the 
physically weakest members of that society as well as the socially weakest, 
the history books don't give them much coverage.  They really aren't that 
significant.'

'So this woman wouldn't be considered normal, even back in the twenty-first 
century?' the woman asks, truly fascinated by the whole subject.

'Well, people wouldn't give her a second look because everyone had muscles.  
They might remark that she was particularly well developed or that her 
biceps were especially large, but she wouldn't be considered in any way 
unusual.'  

'Other than being more attractive than the average woman on the street?' the 
woman adds.

'Quite possibly.  However, you do have to remember that this is a modern 
woman, not like the old-fashioned bodybuilders back then.  Her muscles were 
reconstructed to look like that.  They were grown in surgery.'

'Actually she's a purist,' a soft but authoritative voice cuts across.

Suki steps up.  'She doesn't believe in artificially constructing muscle.'

'You mean she built herself up the traditional way?'

'Sweat and hard work,' Suki confirms.  'Purists consider surgery to be 
cheating.  They say it's pointless to get the results if you aren't prepared 
to work for them.  Also there's the consideration that artificially 
augmented muscle doesn't have the same density as that which is built 
through proper diet and training.'

The woman turns to the muscular wonder on display, all the more impressed by 
her.

'Do you want to touch her?' Suki offers.

She looks as though her desire will overwhelm her.  'May I?'

She does so, stroking the hard, warm flesh with obvious relish and an 
understated but irrepressible elation.

Suki offers the same to the two men but both refuse.  The older looks a 
little distasteful of the prospect.  The younger looks more intimidated.  
He is apparently fascinated and aroused by the woman but Suki cannot prompt 
him to reach out and touch.  Doubtless he will later kick himself over the 
missed opportunity.

'There was actually a discrepancy between the genders back then,' Suki tells 
them.

'Really in what way?' the younger man asks.

'Strength.  Men and women weren't naturally equal in their physical 
capabilities.  Society didn't have the same equilibrium it does now, that 
wasn't achieved until later.'

'Who was stronger?  Men or women?'

The older man tuts, obviously unimpressed by his lack of historical 
knowledge.  'Women of course,' he tells him.  'Women dominated society back 
then.  They just used men to do all the menial tasks, the day to day stuff 
like going to work and such.  Women used to actually run the household and 
bring up the children, men were only allowed to help, and only at the 
prompting of their wives.

'And women also had far more powerful bodies than men.  They were the only 
ones who were capable of sustaining a life within their own bodies.  They 
were the only ones capable of giving birth. 

'Actually, it was men who were stronger,' Suki says.

'Really?  How bizarre,' the younger man remarks.

'But look at the broadcasts from that era,' the older of the two protests.  
'Women were everywhere.  They were worshipped by society, everything about 
them was idolised.'

Suki shrugs.  'Even so.  On average, men were physically stronger.'

He accepts this, if a little reluctantly.  'Truly bizarre.'

The woman is currently stroking the bodybuilder's biceps, her hands lovingly 
cupping around the huge bulging limbs.  She's shuddering as she does so and 
paying no attention to the conversation.

When she finally finishes she is flushed and unable to contain her blush.  
She meets the older man's eyes with obvious intent and wordlessly makes an 
invitation that he isn't about to refuse.

The younger man sees the exchange and swears to himself.  He makes an excuse 
and seeks out the voluptuous young bimbo he'd earlier met.  Not his first 
choice perhaps but he'd still rather have a participant for his nightly 
sexual activities.  He swears again when he sees her flirting shamelessly 
with one of the pink bar-staff.  His skills at reading social signals appear 
to be way off, as usual.  Maybe he should get a tin-net fitted after all.

It was after the party, a success all around as far a Suki was concerned.  
She bid each of her guests a fond farewell (many in fact leaving with 
different partners to those they had come with, a true sign of a successful 
party.)  She sent them off with a long goodnight kiss which, combined as it 
was by drugs and alcohol, had many a heart aflutter.  Practice makes 
perfect as they say.

As the cleaners made short work of the mess, the band folding their 
instruments and equipment back into their briefcases, Suki went over to the 
still bound bodybuilder.

She smiled and removed the blindfold.  'You were right about this,' she told 
the woman.  'It helped people, it really did.'

'Well, my physique is intimidating.  There's something about being 
blindfolded that allows people to watch me without feeling threatened.'

Suki reached up and began unscrewing the clamp that held her cuffs to the 
chain.  The metal was thick and solid, the leather laced with threads of it 
and hardly weak.  Even so, the woman was hardly weak either.

'I would have thought you'd be able to rip yourself free,' she remarked.  'I 
mean, I've seen you do things more extreme than that.'

'I probably could.  I wouldn't though, these are genuine antiques.  They're 
worth a small fortune.'

With the chains removed, she unclamped her arms from the leather bindings 
and put the thick cuffs reverentially into their case.

She rubbed her arms.  They'd been suspended for several hours and were 
naturally feeling numb.  Suki was watching her as she moved.  She gave the 
hostess a curious smile.  'What is it?'

'It's just that I wanted to ask you something,' Suki began, truly nervous 
for the first time that evening.  'I was just heading to my private rooms 
now.  These guys can clean up OK.  I was just wondering if you'd like to 
join me.'

She understood.  Her expression became a little awkward.  'Oh.  I'm sorry 
but no.  Please understand, it's just that I don't do that.  I mean that I'm 
only into men, you see?'

Suki nodded, holding her hands up to show it was OK and that no offence had 
been taken.  'That's fine.  No problem.  It was just a thought.'

The bodybuilder slipped into normal clothes, pulling them on over her 
metallic bikini.

'Actually, so am I normally,' Suki told her.

'What?'

'Men.  Normally I only go for men.  It's just that you're - well.  I could 
hardly pass up the opportunity, that's all.  I know I'd hate myself if I 
didn't ask.'

'OK,' she said.  'Actually, if that's the case, I have a friend you might 
like to meet.  A guy.  Let me give you his number.'

Suki's expression turned to amazement at this.  'There are men who look like 
you?' she asked, utterly incredulous.

She shrugged.  'A few.  Actually I used to help train him.'

She gave the hostess the number, who clutched it to her chest as though it 
were something precious.  She gave the staff her last instructions and bid 
those hired for the night a fond farewell.  

The bodybuilder gave Suki a formal handshake and said thanks.  Suki 
disappeared - no doubt to ponder all that had transpired that evening.

She then finished sorting her few things and headed over to where the barman 
was finally finishing closing his machinery down.  He had swept a robe around 
his nakedness but his skin still held that strange blue tinge.

'Don't suppose you could find me a bottle of something?'

'For you, I wouldn't dare say no.'

She smiled.  'I may look fearsome, but I'm actually a really nice girl when 
you get to know me.'

He cracked two beers, offering her one.  He smiled, sweet but meaningful.

'Did I just hear you say that you're only interested in men?'

She repaid his flirt with a wink and tapped her bottleneck again his.

'Cheers.'

'Cheers.'