Cosmetics (Patreon)

I honestly think this is one of my better ones.

The Red Stripe Mall was one of the oldest hyper-friendly shopping centers on the planet, which made it very nearly twenty years old. There was no stopping the hyper boom once it started; both because of how many people were queued up to finally get their dream body, and because hypers tended to be a lot more durable than the average person. Instead the world had done its best to track and regulate who was ending up with fifty inch arms or a five foot cock. One of the biggest issues had been finding a safe space from hypers.

The minutes of the meeting said 'did you mean for hypers' and 'no' but in general 'Hyper Safe Spaces' were considered necessary, and in the case of Red Stripe, the old floundering mall had been one of the first to offer perks to hyper business owners and customers, at the expensive of shutting out the lucrative 'underage teenager' demographic of most malls. It had worked out for them, and now saw a constant bustle of both regulars and adult tourists.

The food court had two restaurants that specialized in breastmilk one for smoothies, one for ice cream, you could ask the Cinnabon for 'hyper frosting', the LGS shifted every stat up a couple dozen points in deference to 'realism', and the movie theater had an entire platoon of janitors and less than half the usual occupancy; but it stayed in the green and there was always somebody clambering for a storefront. 

It was why Jack felt fortunate to get to set up a personal shop in a major thoroughfare. Not a corner store, or that close to the center, but not tucked away in the middle of nowhere either. She was bringing mall back to the mall, with a cosmetics shop; hyper cosmetics being a difficult enough field that the competition was fairly scarce. Most hypers just dealt with the need to use a whole bathtub of horse shampoo, or whatever they had to to make do. But Jack had her displays facing proudly out. 

Pheromone enhancers, pheromone cancelers, temporary mods, permanent mods, cum-proof mascara, cum-complimenting foundation, plus a little sign about sex toys in the back just because she had enough experience selling mods to know better. As the sign depicting a cartoon shark following a trail of flowers pouring out of a perfume bottle and the name 'trail of life' was lowered into place by her, jumping up and jamming it on, the crane was expensive and reserved elsewhere Jack felt -confident- this would be a good gig.

Max, conversely, was at the mall with a distinct lack of purpose. He had, in many ways, been left behind by the hyper boom, but not because he was a regular schmuck of a ferret. No, he was still hung in a way that made most normal people blush, recoil, or obsess. He was still taller and more durable than most soldiers.

It was just that he was, as far as hypers went, fairly... unimpressive. Worse still, he was unmodified. That was to say, not a hyper at all. And every time he tried to poke his head in the door of a clinic offering modifications, and they realised any modifications they did to him would be starting from 100% effectiveness instead of the diminishing returns repeat customers found themselves with... well, they had to weigh up the benefits of a really good advertising spokesman for their products, and the risk of any number of government agents kicking down the doors and saying "we told you not to make them that big."

Which meant he was stuck with a foot in both worlds and not really able to step out into either one, which meant he was drifting aimlessly through the mall. Still, the shark-themed store smelled nice vaguely strawberry-scented, he thought, and it was probably good for at least a cursory investigation.

Jack smiled brightly as her first customer walked in, winking at him happily... and watching him freeze up like a deer in the headlights. Surprised by his reaction, Jack looked over herself a bit. 

She fully believed that it was unwise to buy from somebody who didn't visibly get good use out of their own products, and so was quite made up for her first day. Her nonexistent eyelashes were substituted with midnight green 3d mascara; her scales were polished, washed, and glittered. Her stripes had been highlighted with the fast foundation pen, and she'd even touched up her tattoos with the "Parchment Pen" meant to make them pop. She was wearing the front-facing minimum for Red Stripe, dressed casually in a pair of torn jeans and a bikini, showing as much shiny sunset skin as she could. She definitely -looked- good enough.

As stealthily as possible, she sniffed her pits, waving at the customer to cover the waft. Her hair was fluffed and filled with hydrophobic strawberry spray, and her BO was as low as possible, she wasn't wearing any scents on her body, instead keeping her natural pheromones to a percent of a percent so she smelled as little as possible; making sure she wouldn't mess with any potential client's sniffers....  She even had her cock -fully- covered, wrapped in the least torn part of her pants from left inseam to knee, and double-bagged with an anti-musk jock strap which she also sold under that. She shouldn't be disrupting anybody. If they were short enough. 

That might be it, her new customer was tall enough that he could be smelling her hair, instead of what he was looking for, and she did her best to throw it all behind her head instead of hanging in front of her messy. "Hey there, what can I do for you? Looking for something in a banana?" 

Jack's training didn't cover what the opposite of a strawberry was, but she still hazarded a guess at what goal he might have thought got further away.

He gave her a slow blink from behind his glasses, pushing his floppy fringe back out of his eyeline to get a better look at the clerk. "In a banana? ...like, as packaging?" His eyes narrowed as he took in the shark and her rather bioluminescent deep-sea vibe. Whoever she was, she seemed to believe in the product, and he supposed he certainly couldn't fault her for that.

"Um... I don't really know what I'm looking for," he admitted. "Honestly, I was just kind of wandering and this place smelled nice." He picked up a tube of glittery body glue - the type one might use if they wanted to affix an entire horseshoe to their chest to accentuate a nipple - before putting it back down again, not entirely sure that he wanted to stick scrap metal to his fur. 

Some hypers would damage the horseshoe before their fur, after all. He wasn't one of them. "Got any... specials, or the like? I don't think I've seen this place before..."

"Sure! My favorites are 'Pheromone Balance Body Wash' and 'Muscle Beach Sunscreen'," Jack continued gladly, pointing to a couple shelves. "PBB is great because it runs in a scale from -10 to +10, without a prescription, so I can test your pheromone density and we can hook you up with a way to match your hyper friends at the next party, it always sucks to be at 'mind melting musk' when your girlfriend is only at 'kinda hot', and it also sucks to be stuck on 'vaguely positive impression' when everybody around you has worked their way up to 'instant orgy'." Jack used a lot of audible quotes in that sentence, but looking at the display shelf it did, in fact, have a scale with every single one of those measurements paired to a number. 

And she personally was a bit proud of hopefully getting to sell 20 variations of the same formula.

"And this place is new! I just got the startup funds to open my own store; which makes you customer number one. Before this I was working with White Horse fashion. Hence the 'in a banana' thing. I'm used to asking if people want something 'in an x' where x is a color. But I work with scents now. So something banana scented would be in a banana. It wasn't a dick joke."  It was a little surreal to see an 11/10 muscle shark do a nerdy overexplain, but there was no hyper mod for charisma. ...Probably. It was a big store.

"Oh, yeah. I remember when White Horse was the only thing that would really fit me downstairs. Now it feels like the brand moved on to bigger and better sizes..." he scratched behind his ears, offering her a slightly awkward smile. "At least non-hyper brands are kind of making half-hearted attempts to capture the "kinda sorta hyper" market. Gives me something to wear."

He pushed up the frames of his glasses as he looked at the shelves. "I guess you can test my pheromone density if you want, though. At least it's an excuse to peel the plastic wrap off the machine, am I right?" He added, taking a brief sniff of the body wash.

The best way to describe the smell was 'more', but he soon had much more significant sensory data.

"Oh shit, wait, are you not actually hyper, just, like, a normal person huge?" Jack got up and rushed over to the ferret, balancing a hand on top of his head. Once upon a time, being six foot eight would prevent anybody from towering over him, but eight feet of shark was just something he occasionally had to live with now. Her own bulge dwarfed his own, despite the futility of trying to hide that much more than a foot in his own pants. 

"That's awesome! But nah I won't need to. Normal people are basically always a '2' on the scale. Tell you what, if you want me to cater to something 'pseudo hyper' I can totally do that, call it a first customer bonus. I respect the choice to enjoy being the small one for a change~"

"Um..." What was the best way to answer that? The reality was that he was close enough to the line that he could make the case either way, but he had never quite managed to successfully make the case whenever he had found a body modder in the past.

"Well... in a very technical sense I'm just scraping past the lowest limits to be considered hyper, but if you're asking if I have any modifications or anything like that, then, uh... no?" He tilted his head up as she laid a palm between his ears, looking up at a forearm that could probably snap him like a noodly twig. Her bulge pressed into his side like a whole other person, and the heat coming off of her body reddened his ears a little. 

Or maybe it was just her comment about being the small one for once... needless to say, it certainly opened up a lot more options for her to sell him something.

"If you ain't modded, and your daddy ain't modded, that's what I'd count, yeah. Like I know some people are born ripped because studs gotta overdo it; but still. It's pretty cool! Means you've got untapped potential and all that." She watched him flush furiously and mentally added 'Sub' to her list of relevant traits. 

"Well if you ever -want- to get modded feel free to buy them here, in the meantime, if I had to hazard a guess, what you want is... Day Glo Daddy fur glitter! Don't mind the horrible name, it's designed to draw the eye and attention of the large and ultramasculine; perfectly legal too, once you -have- their attention its all on you. Or will be if you do it right."

Max looked down at his exposed fur. Sure, there was a creamy landing strip from chest to snout, and his extremities were equally pale... but most of his fur was a deep, nearly-black brown. And "luminous brown" was not generally a word pair that were seen canoodling in public.

"It might be a silly question, but is there a way to do fur glitter incorrectly?" He supposed it could be some kind of bizarro hypno-glitter with dangerous results. That she had to specify it was legal was mildly concerning...

...but she wasn't wrong that the product was interesting to him.

 "Well yeah, it pretty easily becomes tacky. If you just cover yourself in pink sparkles that sends the message "I'm ready to party but I'm also an idiot". You need to color match, know your skin tone, how reflective you usually are... also they come in dehydrating and hydrating variants which you do not want to mix them up."

Jack blinked a moment, then remembered who she was talking to.

"If you mean will any of them physically harm you though, then no. Everything in the front room is basically safe. I keep the semi dangerous stuff behind the counter and the really- youuuuuu probably don't need to know that."

: Max did like to party, but he wasn't an idiot. He hoped. What Jack was saying made sense to him, though. Most of the danger was in accessorising badly, at least as far as the front of the store was concerned, but the idea that there was something really dangerous did draw some interest, at least...

"Well, hold on, let's not assume just yet. For all you know, I could be a veteran of the hyper party scene... and for all I know, just the right product could be sitting in your back room." He wasn't too far off, as it turned out for him, puberty and the emergence of the first hypers weren't too far apart, and there was a brief moment of time where he was the biggest dick in the room when it came to some of those entertainment industry parties.

Though he was glad that he didn't have to pretend to be the big bad gigastud when the actors, directors and authors he was habitually around started getting modded themselves and started looking at his thick ass a little more closely…

"Pff, sure. I would-be letting the day down if I let my first customer walk out less than totally satisfied," Jack double checked that she didn't have a second customer she would regret ignoring before confirming that most hypers still didn't enjoy being up at eight am and showing Max away from the front of the store. "So this room has sex toys, some for emergency relief but some for sale; you can probably get a Reverse Breeding Mount most places these days but the collapsible ones sell out fast so I wouldn't blame you if you needed a good railing."

She gestured to a door marked 'emergencies only', then took another couple of long strides further into the back.

"This is where I keep the actual mods, at least, the permanent ones. Also my tattoo ink and needles, which is more for sanitation/cross contamination reasons," she tapped a door marked 'Medical escort only'

"Aaaand this is where I'm... uh, working on a few things," she flicked her tail vaguely towards the far end of the hall where a very sealed door said simply "Jack only."

He nodded as she gestured to the various doors and their explanations. She was right; it was damn hard to find the collapsible ones out in the wild. Though the mystery room down the hallway drew his interest, still the last he checked his name was Max, not Jack.

And he suspected most Jacks weren't this Jack, either. "Secret cosmetological research does sound kind of interesting, but I understand if you're not ready to show off what's inside just yet," he replied, peering down the hallway for a moment before looking back up to her. "Can we look at the mods? I don't know if I'll buy any, but... well, I've looked at them a lot in the past, you know?" 

"Including 'inside people' I'd wager, but sure," Jack opened the door revealing... rather less security than most would use. Instead of safes and glass cases instead it was just sturdy and labeled shelves plus a 'gentle reminder' on standard boilerplate. 'These might get you hyper enough to pop a safe; consider how hyper the owner is.' The bottles looked rather more medical and less cosmetic than the rest of the store, having names like "Muscular Density Increaser", "Virility Booster", and "Lactation Inducer"... but it wasn't -entirely- without the usual kitch, needles and ink bottles stacked in a corner of the shelves over a pile of stencils had names like 'Big Red' 'Tall Dark' and 'Milky White' on them.

"I've got a few... aftermarket adjusted ones, modded mods if you will, so if you want something super specific just tell me what you're looking for. If you're hoping I have something super forbidden like Hyperdrive 2.0 that you don't wanna admit you're looking for, that's not in this room"

The ferret took a moment to wander, looking over the shelves and examining the bottles on display, flicking through the stencils, checking the ink colours on offer... he sat himself down in a swivel chair, stretching out rather elegantly as he considered the goods.

"Modded mods, you say... Well, that sounds interesting too. There's a lot of choice... maybe you have a good suggestion?" Looking at him, her initial assessment of "Sub" seemed pretty dead on. And while hypers did lean a little more towards the big, growly, well-built and dominant, that didn't mean there was no space for a solid bottom. Denser muscles without unbalancing the femboy look, perhaps? Some people certainly liked their subs to cum just as hard as they did, so virility boosters weren't off the table either...

Jack looked at the butt rising into the air as Max checked the bottom shelves, thought about how dedicated she was to her first day and how few times she actually got off this morning, and about what she'd enjoy... a LITTLE more than customer attentiveness required.

Without skipping a beat, she said, "Sensitizing and regenerative tramp stamp; an extra foot of height; the premarket "Femboy Hercules" mod; and as much of my patented "JO Juice" as you think you can handle."

Max could hear the stretching of fabric behind him. "That all sounds... pretty reasonable, honestly, I could go for that. Premarket, huh? Is this one of the things you have in your secret room?" He stood upright again, sorting his fingers through his hair as he turned around, nose twitching just a little. Perhaps that stretching of fabric was an ominous sign of things to come...

"JO Juice... sounds like it ups cum volume, but I could be wrong there..." He really did have a nice ass, she had to admit; and if he was entirely unmodded, there was a lot of room to tweak it without competing mods getting in the way.

"No I'm not cleared to offer those. It's just what it sounds like, the standard 'superhuman musculature' package but optimized for those with your build. They haven't figured out how to fully market it yet so it's not advertised or on shelves. The good news is that while I'm not legally allowed to offer mods that are MEANT to get you above Zeta-class strength, your natural physique, unmodded form, and build synergy means you might honestly come out of this with Lambda-class." Jack started to visibly get harder at the thought. There was nothing she loved more than applying -perfect polish- to superhuman muscle, and she could see Max as a major repeat customer, a bronze-bootied god who relied on her for deodorant that didn't spontaneously ablate from him running full speed.

"And JO Juice does up cum volume a bit. Mostly it makes your skin and hair extremely elastic and able to absorb cum for nutrients. Skincare is never easy, but you can get above 96% of the population just with the occasional bukkake, if you get that one." She hoped he took that one. It came with a 'special bonus' she was looking forward to handing out.

She was very obviously getting excited, and when she was getting excited with the possibility, it became a little contagious... or, maybe he was just ogling her shaft a little too much in concerned but horny awe. He stepped a little closer to her, back in the glow of her body heat, and gave her a wide-eyed look.

"...well, ah, hm. From what you're saying, it sounds like you're not just an expert, but an artist too. I hear that you're not supposed to offer them, but... maybe I should just let you make me into a work of art with your best tools? And if some of those are ones you can't legally sell me, then... I just give you a big tip at the end of it?"

Jack was tempted. She was honestly tempted. It would be hot. But... she had to ask.

"...What do you do for a living, hon?"

As much as she could make him into the monster cumdump of her year, it would be cruel, not merely irresponsible, to make him anywhere near what she could without him having years of training first. 

Besides, as she made some of the blood flow back to her head, she reminded herself that even most hyper aficionados had never seen anything above Delta in action. 

"If I really go nuts, you could end up like me."

Jack went to a steel rivet on the nearby shelves and snapped off the top with barely a curve of her fingers, she started rubbing it between her index and middle finger in an increasing blur until it melted and there was a brief crackle as it dripped off her, then she passed her finger in front of Max, tapping a -single- tiny droplet of sweat to his nose.

I'm an author." It... probably wasn't the answer she expected, but it came with a qualification. A fairly hefty one, at that. He laughed a little, almost embarrassed. "Used to be an actor. When I was just getting into the industry, most people weren't nearly as hyper as the biggest people are today, so I was kind of an exciting prospect with this body. But the tech got better, and so did the bodies. I finally got to enjoy bottoming again, but the tech kept getting better... and I suppose I've been worried that I won't be able to keep up."

Years of experience, perhaps, rather than years of training. But there was room for training when he had good fundamentals. "Would it be so bad to end up like... like..." He found himself drooling as she tapped the lightest droplet of sweat to his nose, his entire body shivering as his brain tried to consider all of her at once.

"Heh... yeah," Jack snickered a bit. Max couldn't consider all of her at once, and 'considering big picture things' was the job he'd just confessed to, the scent of salt, melon, and raw need rushed to his brain, her height seemed so much higher, her muscles even bigger than before. She flicked the offending drop off his nose and pulled a small bottle of powder out of her shorts. It was labeled 'pheromone negator personal' and she powdered her finger a bit, rubbing it around much more slowly until the two fingers that had just touched steel looked more like all the others.

It was... a concerning realization. That all her polish, all her style, was for -safety-. It was so the public got the survivable version of shark. 

"I certainly like it, but let's get you to a normal level of over the top, then when you feel the whole thing we'll see if it's worth trying to keep going."

Jack patted his head affectionately, knowing he'd still be shuddering from her briefly unleashed scent for a few moments more, and unfolded the label on one of the bottles of JO Juice.

The part under the branding, the actual instructions, had the full name of the product.

Jack's Onahole.

"I'm going to prep the applicator for your Hercules treatment so you can survive the rest/get the most out of it. If you need to get off immediately though... well, that's what the toy room is for."

He was caught dazed and drooling for a while, the pat to his head only briefly stirring him from his stupor. He blinked, wiping at his mouth with his forearm before looking down to see his cock buried up against his stomach, hard as diamonds as it tried to tear through his waistband.

"I think I'll survive a little longer. At least, I'll try to..." He wasn't quite sure how much of it was bravado, but his brain was still trying to chew through exactly how much of her there was, and the semi-hard length in her shorts was not making that task any less appealing for him. He could risk things being a little less survivable if it meant they both got more out of it, right? Or maybe that was just the sweat talking to him...

Jack took the time to check on the storefront it would be embarrassing to close after a week, even if she did get a new pet out of it and helped a couple customers find something significantly easier than the rest of their lives; before dipping into her lab, programming the nanites, grabbing the extra canister of concentrated nutrients, and returning to Max. 

She didn't sneak up behind him, per se, but she was quieter than her size would usually allow, and wrapped him almost entirely with her body as she prepared. "Hey. Hope you're ready. You're going to have some... spasms while you change, so for safety you would usually get strapped to a table; but that's a little upsetting and my straps are only rated up to theta so I'm just going to hold you for the transformation."

Max's head was tucked between her tits, his thighs straddled her bulge, and her diamond-like abs pressed into his back like the rollers on a massage chair as her arms draped over his shoulders. "I love the boldness, but I do wanna give you a final chance to back out, this mod is expensive, both from me... and for the upkeep. Hyper gyms are expensive, and while banging your head on a doorframe and hurting it sucks; banging your head and losing half the house sucks more." She offered him an out as a spiral syringe was turned over in her fingers.

Max was quiet for a moment, himself. As she cautioned him on the potential costs of what was to come, he didn't really seem to have an answer for her. Instead, he reached up and patted vaguely around her tits before giving him a thumbs up. Ah, right. His face was kind of well buried.

He could probably afford it if he was in the business of fancy parties, even if it meant a bit of a remodel to his living space. The kind that took military contractors and bunker designers to complete. Fortunately, those kinds of contractors knew well how to work with people who could throw a javelin made of tungsten to take out a tank - a few bumps of the head against a lintel would be okay, given time.

Jack pulled him into a sealed room, pressed the injector against his stomach, and he watched the fluid flow inside him. There was a calm moment of nothing but slow breathing, deafening heartbeats, and the scent of strawberries... before Max's own ab muscles nearly imploded the rest of him. Saying 'it felt like a situp' would be a grievous understatement. It felt like doing every situp he had ever done in his life simultaneously. Actually he wasn't that athletic, it felt like doing every situp ever done in the life of every athletic person he'd ever met. His body -seized-... only to be held still against the silk-smoothed scales of the shark holding him tight, his shoulder unable to swing past her bust, his thighs not pulling up past her balls, and her strong hands rubbing his seizing stomach...

By the second, muscles grew. After the contraction Max had muscle lines on his belly, then he had a four pack, then six, then eight, all in mere moments as the changes spread. None of the others were as intense. His obliques becoming like washboards made his back feel stretched, sure, and his pecs becoming swollen and enormously round hurt his shoulders a bit; but the more of him that changed... the less the rest of his body was unable to take it.

His shoulders didn't get any broader, but they got rounder and stopped feeling any sense of weight. His arms didn't get much bigger, but Jack left them unsecured and he could see the sharp peaks formed when they pulled themselves into a flex. His back didn't flare up behind him, but he could feel the bulge of powerful lats push back against the shark. ACTUALLY push, not 'futilely slam into a brick wall' like he had been.

And his upper body had been the smaller change.

On another table, Max might have launched himself into the air through sheer force of ass alone. His plush bottom curves filled to the brim with rock-solid hyper-muscle, then just for good measure piled another layer of cushion on top. He could feel it instinctively gravitating to the level of quarter-flexed that would put him at a perpetually perfect bubble, even though at the moment it was busy hot-dogging a shark who was steadily getting harder and beginning to push back.

He could feel Jack press between his thighs, her inhumanly solid cock suddenly -just the right- level of iron as his thighs went through the transformation his ass did and then some. More muscle than he'd previously had in his entire body on one part of one leg swelled rapidly, then covered itself with the same 'fluff' on the rest of him. Even through his cleavage prison he could see them, massive pillars swelling up and up atop Jack's own, until in at least one part he actually rivaled the terrifyingly perfect modder in sheer size.

But they weren't just one part growing alone, they -matched- his body. All of him was new and strong. His calves and forearms sculpted themselves into something like diamonds in more ways than just shape. His tendons rippled and changed composition and his slender fingers and hands still filled with strength. Even his insides changed. In a moment there was a thud, as Max's heart went from racing in excitement to beating at a steady beat every two seconds. Not because he wasn't excited anymore, but because that was all his new ultra-athletic body needed in 'high stress situations'. He took a deep, awed breath, and startled himself with the swirling of wind in the room, the air currents changed by the force of an inhale; and when he let out a startled cough, he could see the door of their sealed room flex.

"Careful there~" Jack teased, running her hands over his body, "You've got a lot to get used to."

The first thing he had to get used to was his breathing. He took a deep breath inwards once more, holding it for a moment... and then a moment longer... and became surprised that he wasn't feeling that acidosis burn as he held it longer than a minute. He exhaled steadily, listening to the slight rattle of bottles on the shelves as he flexed his lungs. 

...he was almost scared to move. Moving gently and slowly was perhaps the right move, even if he felt somewhat like he was being marionetted by his own desires; the way his much more powerful muscles moved felt so exaggerated, like he was being driven by someone else.

And as she ran her hands over his body, there was a heavy thump and a wheeze that knocked the breath out of his body. His erection punched him in the stomach like a freight train as it jumped back to life. Fortunately, he was now rated to take a freight train to the gut, but the impact still stung, if mostly from the surprise. There was a heavy gurgle as his balls realised they hadn't been emptied yet, a sound Jack was undoubtedly familiar with, if, perhaps, with a different tone and timbre to her own.

Below, that massive ass smothered her dick like it was trying to become Hide the Sausage World Champion. She could feel the depth of that butt valley and the strength of the muscle below, but that layer of soft plushness on top made it particularly pleasing when it rested atop her straining length.

"...I'll say," he agreed, trying to pry his dick out of the way so he could soothe his bruised abs. Every part of his body felt like a construction site, or a jungle gym - a challenge to navigate and operate safely.

"Hnph... hold... hold on," Jack took a deep breath herself, the wind-swirls from her diaphragm wrapping around Max's own as she slowly let him down. She finally stripped herself off, carefully removing her jeans before sliding the jock strap down multiple feet of throbbing cock. Every inch she let out of the protective sheathe intensified the smell in the tiny room, the rapid airflow only serving to spread it faster. Salty and sweet, fruit and meat, as fresh as the first step out of a shower and as funky as snorting nuts of an orgy's centerpiece.

When she got it all down, her own cock sprang up to bounce between her tits where Max had only just been. She grabbed an enormous plastic jug from the bottom corner of the room, handing it to Max. There was no label, just a sharpie note "Emergency JO Juice"

"You'll want... a bit of that still, if I'm going to plow you." Jack was already lubing herself up in preparation, her tongue snaking out to lick around her cockhead, glistening saliva left behind before a finger brushed past it to confirm it was acceptably slick... moments before she practically doubled over, shoving her head and neck over her massive member, deep throating herself with a deafening -squelch- before coming out with a fully soaked and polished cockhead, readied in two clean licks.

"The sensitizer you won't need until -after- you've had me."

He was, perhaps, glad he hadn't quite tried out the glitter yet. That was just asking for a ferret-themed glitterbomb in an area that was meant for medical procedures, and nobody needed sticky, hot liquid glitter all over their fur.

...sometimes people wanted it, but giving every customer from opening until doomsday a sample of free glitter probably wasn't the best advertisement. That said, the scent probably would draw some attention... he was rather aware that, having been exposed to it, the fact that she had been able to keep it so minimal was a riotous achievement in itself. People tended not to notice the absence of something until they had the point of comparison.

He winced a little as he heard her own dick slapping up against her body, a length significantly meatier than his own and slapping into a wall of muscle much harder than his. Careful not to squish the jug into a balled-up mess of fluid and plastic, he tipped it to his jaws and sipped. He chugged it down as she prepped her cock, not actually sure what kind of dose he was looking for... so he just kept swallowing until she either gave him a look or took it away from him.

...though that last statement did sound a little ominous.

Jack was too busy to notice the severe overdose and might not have stopped him even if she realized. The juice was one of the most harmless permanent mods she offered by design; the worst that would happen to him was developing a severe craving for cum and a swollen and sensitive prostate.

And something told her he was already at least a -bit- interested in that.

After he finished the jug, she grabbed him again, pulling him up and spearing him on her cock. It wasn't the most romantic tryst, nor was there much foreplay, but for -her- this was a quickie smooth enough to have while actively on the clock.

For Max, however, he got to experience a stretch his body wasn't capable of 30 seconds ago, a thrust that would have killed him five minutes ago, and a cock that he'd not come close to at his wildest parties all at once - all shoved against a love button that was much fuller than it was a millisecond ago.

The slide downwards was... certainly an experience, that much was true. Her cockhead slipping past his prostate was more like a container ship bumping into a naval mine, and just as explosive. The slightest squeeze of her brushing into it was magnified a hundredfold as she actually pushed past it, and he came harder than he had ever cum in his entire life. Combined.

His massive ass clenched hard around her dick, and she could feel that hydraulic press strength against her steely shaft as he shuddered and spurted, his balls furiously painting the back wall in a shade of hot creamy white, rivers of ferret goo far outpacing most of the production of those wild parties.

And that was just the entry. As he slid down around that shaft, his powerful glutes doing their best to flatten the invading cock inside him (and failing, despite their best efforts), he gripped at her wrists with strength that could break a normal man's arms. Taking deep, heavy breaths of the increasingly pheromone-laden air, he did his best to recover as she bottomed him out.

But as she pushed him into the base of her hips, the width of her cock only made him cum again, harder this time, as he felt the stretch.

It was everywhere. As the shark wrapped her hands around his waist, even with his new strength all he could do was watch. 

A pint of his cum launched out of his cock with enough force to hit the ceiling, dent it, then fall back down over them both, landing heavily in the fur of his stomach as the view rapidly switched between his new eight pack and the defined outline of a shark cock filling him utterly.

A quart clipped his chin, and he blinked a little stupidly as he felt what he recognized, intellectually, as the force of a shotgun blast but all it did was tilt his head slightly to the side and leave his jaw a bit drippy.

A gallon arced back, and painted the neck and shoulders of the massive queen stuffing him to the brim, thick drops falling down her hair, bouncing off her curls like leaves from a treetops.

They should have been soaked.

They weren't.

Wherever the cum hit it just... went back in, absorbed by the -real- purpose of the mod, making their skin and hair feed on the stuff. No matter how thick Max's ropes got, he never stopped being -pristine-, able to watch Jack use him like an onahole in full visual clarity. Mental clarity might be a much taller ask.

The recycling was definitely useful for one thing; the amount of cum he was blasting out was more than enough to dehydrate most people, even if his body was a lot more efficient than it had been an hour previous. But as they continually reabsorbed it, heavy and dense loads sinking into their fur and scale and hair, it meant that the only thing that would stop them was... well, Jack. And probably not because she was tired, either.

He felt her massive cock roll through his midsection, squeezed into his body by massive forearms hugging him close to hers, and he came. He felt her balls slapping into his ass with a particularly vigorous thrust, and he came. He took a deep breath of the heady scent in the air, and he came. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened to his refractory period. Or if it even existed, any more. All he was aware of was the sensation of smothering and the constant, vigorous gurgling of his balls as they kept making more and more and more seed...