F.R.A.T.

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The app downloaded onto Vlad’s phone in a matter of moments. Like the artificial intelligence art trend that had swept the nation months earlier, the company behind the Frame-Rated Alteration Treatment app hoped to bank off of a similar success. It had only taken a couple of days after the app had launched before it blew up across social media. The app promised to alter people’s images frame by frame to create the “perfect” version of the image. It gave examples of people being bulked up or others slimmed down. Some were given new skin colors or even racial identities. It basically always deemed the college-age as the best. Yet it was adrenalizing to see what the AI thought was the ideal treatment for every individual and how it came to the process step by step.

Vlad however didn’t find the app entertaining at all. Sure, he understood why small-minded individuals would deem an AI-generating app as “exciting” or “a modern wonder.” But as a top-of-his-grade university student, Vlad had more important things to worry about. Grades, projects, satisfying professors, and most importantly: grades again. Vlad was an academic; he simply didn’t have time to engage in such simple activities and trends.

Not only did Vlad’s personality reek of nerd-dom, but he looked the part too. His outfits were fairly standard…for a person of the 1950s. Button-down shirts and trousers filled his closets, tube socks and neutral-colored boxers shoved into his drawers. He had many kinds of loafers, belts, and ties, and even his glasses looked a generation or two behind. Vlad’s short hair was kept at a perfect Ivy League cut, while his frail body was always pale enough to edge the line of sickly. 

But none of these factors–neither the physical or mental dispositions–ever affected his output on life. He wanted to excel. It frequently drove people away, but he often blamed that on their own cowardliness towards future success. They were living in the present, Vlad was living for the future.

Eventually however, everyone succumbs to peer pressure, even those who believe they are “above such frivolous things.” And so Vlad fell, downloading the app as his curiosity had finally overcome his superiority complex. He watched as the app installed itself on his phone, the loading dial slowly filling in the icon of an empty cup. Vlad thought it was a strange choice for a logo, but as soon as the installation finished the thought left his mind. Pushing away from his desk and leaning back into the chair, Vlad opened the app and hoped this would be over with soon.

The screen was gray besides a single prompt: “Allow Access to Camera?”

Vlad accepted and brought the camera up to his mirror, not even caring to make the angle nice as the picture snapped itself. In an instant the photo rolled in, Vlad’s 5’8 stick-like frame coloring the screen. Polka-dotted button-up, straight khakis, and glasses that reflected the light awkwardly. Yet beneath all of Vlad’s academically-earned self-righteousness was a tinge of excitement. He would never admit it, but he was interested in knowing how the AI would alter it into the “perfect” frame.

“Begin F.R.A.T.?” a second prompt questioned with Vlad clicking through it before even recognizing the anagram. He watched as a small square appeared over the snapshot and popped around the screen frantically. After some darting back and forth, it split into two. The pair broke apart and landed on Vlad’s feet. The squares then began to pulse, and after a few seconds the screen went dark.

Vlad blinked as the snapshot rebooted itself. Everything was the same, although there was one noticeable difference. His pupils widened as he took in the alteration the app had made, both confused and astonished. The loafers Vlad had been wearing in the picture were now completely gone, along with the socks he’d so lovingly yanked up to his knees earlier that morning. Instead, the AI had given him monstrous, meaty plodders, the feet looking many sizes larger than they had been before. They looked comically massive against the thin legs held within his pants, which should’ve pushed against the fabric if they’d wanted to match.

Once Vlad had assessed the changes, the square popped in once again and continued its work. This time, after some light traveled all around the screen, the square similarly broke in half and created a duplicate. They stretched vertically and centered in on his legs. Their lines danced and just like before, disappeared with the image before coming back with the AI’s improvements.

Vlad blushed as he inspected the new changes. The app had completely removed his pants, leaving him in just his standardized white briefs. However, the AI had completely filled the holes with watermelon-sized thighs. His quads were supported by stronger calves that appeared destined to run any distance and traverse any landscape. They looked a few inches longer too. Vlad’s legs were carved solid and yet delectably soft–and an appropriate upgrade. Vlad hated to admit it, but the legs the AI had given him would’ve fit perfectly with his freakishly large clown feet. He had no idea how a man of his stature could end up with Size 15 stompers, but having those limbs would’ve at least made them look a little more normal.

Soon the square reappeared and began its dance once more. It flickered and flittered all across Vlad’s phone, the AI searching out its next target for frame enhancement. This time however, it didn’t split in two. It instead landed upon his torso, expanding outwards just a little in order to capture the entirety of his unremarkable chest. The borders pulsed hypnotically and Vlad stared on as the screen went dark. Moments later, the app presented him with a new frame just like it had before. 

The alterations this time followed suit with the last, removing his shirt completely. What should’ve been a stark-white, flat front however was now replaced with a rigidly-tight, muscular frame. Two pillowy pecs were displayed above a tanned six pack. Perky nipples begging to be played with lay above the valleys the AI had sculpted for fingers to trace. The whole mass was broad, hairless, and honestly striking. Vlad couldn’t believe how well the app had created a fake torso to match his real legs. Years of football practice and camps had given him what a coach called the “quads of the century,” and yet his upper body never developed the same. He almost wished the AI hadn’t shown him this fake reality he now could only dream of.

With that finished, the square was summoned to get back to work. Vlad’s eyes traced the screen as the square bounced from corner to corner before separating into two. They morphed into strange rectangles before landing upon their targets: Vlad’s arms. The lines vibrantly moved around the arms, focusing in before the app took the picture to submit its next frame for alteration. When the picture reappeared, Vlad was happy to see what the AI had provided him with.

He noticed the upper arms first, his mouth opening slightly as he took in the almost-palpable biceps and triceps the app had given him. Veins traced along the musculature, becoming more prominent along the fake forearms before spreading out across the powerful paws he’d been treated to. Each finger was noticeably plump, but in a way one could tell he’d handled more than just a few pigskins in his life. They looked much more appropriate than the delicate fingers Vlad actually had, which looked so out of place on the 6’3 male. It was always weird to see how Vlad’s marvelously-sculpted shoulders led into limp arms. Even the jewelry that adorned the AI’s frame looked more appropriate than his own naked forearm and finger.

When the square came back, it did not hesitate at all. It simply placed itself over Vlad’s neck and head and got to work on the next frame. The new picture showed a much hotter, douchier version of Vlad than he could’ve ever imagined for himself. The AI had grown out his hair into something untamed, his eyes now giving a kind of primal energy without the glasses. A broad jawline helped accentuate the prominent neck that the app had decorated with fake necklaces that matched the bracelets on his arm. The AI had made Vlad sculpted and oh so schmoozy. Even the lips look desperate to give a kiss somewhere inappropriate. 

One more square appeared, yet it was already hovering over the object that had yet to be corrected. In a flash, the app presented Vlad with a final image. Gone were the white briefs that had held his modest pouch. In its place where name brand trunks showing a dick print larger than Vlad believed was possible. Not only that, but the two balls beneath displayed that the AI was not messing around. He could even tell that he was given some life in the derriere department. Vlad pursed his lips, wishing that this all was reality. He could always charm his way through any conversation with his looks, but his real dick never got him any action. His smolder got girls in bed, but pulling the pants down got them to leave.

A final prompt presented itself over the screen, announcing that the Frame-Rated Alteration Treatment had been completed. It then asked if the user would like to save the image and submit. Smirking, Vlad hit the accept button.

— —

Vince watched as the picture cropped and uploaded as his profile picture onto the dating app. Like the many other dating profiles he’d uploaded over time, he hoped for the Solo app to bring him similar success. It had only taken a couple of days after the app had launched for it to flood universities everywhere. News websites started frantically reporting on the new hookup app, which advertised it was the best for “just one-nighters”. The red Solo cup icon was the perfect face, promoting the company’s true intention of letting young singles get together with no promise of dating.

Vince was hungry to get on the app, downloading it as soon as it had entered his radar. Having a hit list near 100 before graduating college was already one of his greatest feats, but he was eager to expand his boundaries even further. As a top-of-the-line all-around stud, Vince followed his python wherever it led him. Guys, girls, satisfying coaches, and most importantly: guys again. Sure, he wasn’t smart by any means, but he always knew what the professors wanted for extra credit. When he wasn’t in a football uniform, he was the life of the party. And when he wasn’t the life of the party, he was the monster in the sheets.

Speaking of which, in the three minutes Vince’s picture had been uploaded on Solo, he’d already hit double digits in offers. With a cocky smirk, he fondled his readying cannon and got to work.