A mixup in surgery raises the stakes

Jason spends the next several hours in the OR viewing area, enjoying some sloppy, enthusiastic head from the sloppy, enthusiastic head nurse while he watches the surgery unfold.

Cosmetic procedures at Pearson's are usually a couple hours at most, but this is a significant set of modifications: ridiculously-large, pharmaceutical-filled implants for Patricia's tits and ass, with the necessary muscle enhancements to (just barely) heft them around. Add in some lip fillers and an intense course of IV mental modification ****--

--Wait.

Leaning over in his seat (and trying not to interrupt the woman **** herself on the first few inches of his cock), Jason hits the intercom button.

"What's in the IV, doc?"

"Routine mental mods," Dr. Banning replies, glancing up at the window separating them. He's currently poking at her lips, getting the shape just right. "Standard course of nymphonil, IQ inhib, various pliables--" He freezes mid-sentence, his eyes slowly moving down to Patricia's mountainous, gown-covered chest.

"Uh-huh. Did you adjust for the massive fuckin' balloons of ridiculously-psychoactive jizz you just stuffed into her chest?"

"...Uh..." Still staring at his patient's tits, Dr. Banning sheepishly reaches over and turns off the IV drip. "...Well, uh..."

Rolling his eyes, Jason turns off the intercom. "Dumbass..."

"Mmph... Um..." In an uncharacteristic moment of caring about something other than Jason's cock, the nurse looks up from between his legs. "What's gonna happen to her?"

"Something between 'braindead vegetable' and 'best MILF ever,' I guess," Jason says. While he's frustrated to have his careful plan for Patricia modified, part of him is excited to see what happens next.

As he mulls it over, his massive shaft twitches and slaps against the nurse's face. Instantly, any worries about the patient's overdose melts away, and she goes back to trying to stuff another few inches of meat down her already-strained throat.

An hour later and a few blocks away, Todd speeds recklessly around a corner, his car barely hanging onto the road.

"What the fuck is Mom doing," he growls, slowing down a little in order to avoid a massive accident.

The hapless young man just got a call from the clinic, asking if he was available to drive his mother home. "Sorry about the short notice--Your mother planned to make her own way home," the secretary explained. "I guess she thought she'd be okay to drive, since she was only getting a minor physical procedure... But plans change," she continued with a giggle.

Pulling into the lot, Todd hastily parks and heads inside. One frantic (and honestly, quite rude) conversation with a receptionist later, he knows where to find his mother's recovery room.

After practically sprinting through the halls of Pearson's Perfections, he finds the right door... And finds it locked.

"Hey... HEY!" He double-checks the number, then bangs on the door a few times. "Open up, it's Todd--It's her son! Is my mom okay? What the fuck did you freaks do to her? I swear to--"

It swings open, revealing a petite nurse with smeared lipstick and several wet spots on the front of her uniform.

Taking no note of the woman's recently-facefucked appearance, Todd pushes past her... And stops dead in his tracks as he sees his mother.