Stinky Reconditioning Shrunken First Semester chapter 9 by maximally

“Hazel, this isn’t—whoa!” Max barely managed to keep his balance as Hazel plopped him down on her disaster of a desk, wedged right between a family-size bag of Hot Cheetos, a half-drained Monster, and a pair of butt plugs that looked like they’d survived a war. Beneath him, her mousepad was almost suspiciously sticky—and smelly.

 

“Now…” Hazel murmured, half to herself, “Where did I put that…” As she glanced back at the screen, she quickly began minimizing the collection of fetish hentai compilation videos currently obscuring all three main monitors of her desktop. “Sorry.” Catching Lucky’s eye, she chuckled. “Part of my research. Helps me keep the creative juices flowing.” Her smile was teasing, almost like she wanted him to comment. “One sec.”

 

“All good,” Lucky grunted, waddling over and dropping his fat ass onto Hazel’s mattress. The springs whined, and another cloud of swamp-skunk stink billowed out—weed, burrito farts, sweat, and the kind of nut funk that could peel wallpaper, all stewing in his crusty boxers. Max gagged, catching a whiff even from the desk—a pungent reminder of everything he’d been spared while hanging out with Hazel.

 

“Ah! There we go!” Hazel adjusted her smudged glasses, buckteeth flashing in another smug grin. “Okay, Miniguy.” Her voice was nasal and excited. “Good news, bad news, and awesome news.”

 

Max squinted up at the glowing screen, already hopelessly lost. The endless lines of code, numbers and molecular diagrams might as well have been written in Martian, and even a quick glimpse was enough to give him a headache. How could someone smart enough to make sense of all this be such an unhinged pervert? “Just tell me you can fix me,” he muttered, trying not to sound as pathetically desperate as he felt.

 

“Well...” Hazel leaned forward; her striped blouse gaped, giving Max a totally-unwanted glimpse of sweaty cleavage and the dark crescent of a nipple. “Let’s do the good news first: you were right. That serum you got dosed with was one of mine.” She tapped a greasy key, and a sprawling chemical diagram popped up on one of her monitors. “And the thing about this one is, it’s modular. Binds right to your DNA. There’s no flushing it out once it’s in there. But I can layer new instructions on top of the old ones.”

 

“Meaning, what exactly?” Max could feel his shoulders sagging. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so thoroughly helpless. “Can you get me back to normal or not?”

 

“It’s possible.” Hazel tapped her keyboard a few times and made a sour face at the results. “Well, in theory. But that’d mean fighting the serum’s primary instructions head-on. Not exactly the easiest thing to nail on the first try.” She shrugged. “Best guess, you’re talking eight or nine months of lab work, minimum. And that’s assuming I put all my other projects on hold for this. Which, keeping it real here, isn’t happening.” She paused, her gaze flicking back to Max. “I’ve got a very busy gooning schedule these days.”

 

“Oh…” Max’s knees buckled, and he dropped onto the sticky desk, feeling dried lube cling to his skin. Nine months. Maybe forever. He was so fucked. “That’s… pretty bad news.”

 

“Tough break, dude.” Still sprawled on the mattress behind them, Lucky let out a low, stoned chuckle. “Told you not to get your hopes up.”

 

“Yeah,” said Max, doing his best to maintain composure. Had his whole life really led him to this moment? “I… yeah.”

 

“Ah, c’mon, Miniguy!” Hazel leaned in until her greasy ponytail brushed the desk. “You haven’t heard the awesome news yet.”

 

Max flinched—half from the smell of her hot, sour breath and half from trying to imagine what a girl like Hazel would consider ‘awesome.’

 

“Now, I’m guessing you’re not a chemistry guy,” said Hazel, already sliding one hand back down the front of her sweatpants. “So stop me if you get lost here. The base serum responds to two kinds of add-ons. One set tweaks the body. Size, durability, that stuff. Super tricky. The other set…” She paused to moan softly. “The other set tweaks the brain.”

 

Max swallowed. “The… brain?”

 

“Mm-hmm.” Hazel’s fingers moved faster, her hips rocking in the gaming chair. “See, being a miniguy is kind of a raw deal.” She chuckled. “I guess you already know that, though. Psycho-additives are meant to fix that. Rewire your reward pathways so certain smells, tastes, sensations… feel good. Really good.”

 

Max’s voice came out small. “Certain smells meaning…”

 

Hazel’s grin widened, buckteeth gleaming. “Here’s a hint…” Her belly tensed. The chair creaked.

 

A low, bubbling growl rolled out of her before the blast hit.

 

 

The fart exploded like a wet firecracker, thick and spicy-eggy, rolling across the desk in a greasy heatwave. It hit Max full-on, soaking into his hair, his skin, his lungs. He gagged, eyes streaming, and toppled onto his side as the stink wormed its way into every pore. Even through the hacking, he could feel Hazel shuddering above him, grinding out a messy orgasm that left fresh streaks inside her sweatpants.

 

“Goddamn, Haze.” Lucky coughed, shaking his head. “That one had range.”

 

Hazel sighed happily, slumping back. “Anyway… best trigger for you would obviously be farts. Quick imprinting, strong response. One dose and every time me or Skunkboy here rips one, it’ll feel like the best head you’ve ever had.”

 

“Whoa.” Lucky’s hazy green eyes lit up. “That’s kinda fire, not gonna lie.”

 

“Right?” Hazel pinched Max between two slick fingers, lifting him up until her smug face filled his view. Her arousal smeared across his chest, sticky and hot. “I can’t make you big again anytime soon… but I can make you love being small.”

 

Max shivered. The idea made his skin crawl, but there was something sick in him that almost wanted it. Was he actually thinking about saying yes, or was that just the gaseous tendrils of Hazel’s last fart still rattling around in his brain?

 

“There’s just one catch,” Hazel continued. “Do we share custody, or do you want exclusive rights, Skunkboy?”

 

Lucky glanced down at the bulge in his stained panties, then at Max. “I mean… he’s already my lucky charm. When I had him in my ass last night, I went on a ten-win streak. Kinda don’t wanna give that up.”

 

“I know what you mean,” said Hazel, nodding eagerly. “Well… maybe we let the little guy decide?” She brought Max so close that her breath ruffled his hair. “You’ve been such a good sport—quiet, no running away, just taking whatever we dish out.” She licked her lips. “Makes a girl wonder what you’d pick if we gave you the choice.”

 

Max’s face burned. Objectively, he was terrified—trapped between two filthy giants who saw him as a science experiment and a living butt plug. But there was also something else going on here. Two people—huge, gross, terrifying as they were—were talking about how much they wanted him around. How much they liked him. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

 

Hazel noticed. Her dark eyes glinted behind greasy lenses. “What do you say, Miniguy?”