By: maximally
PART 1
Rubbing his eyes and taking another look around, Max immediately got several clues about his current location. To his right was a huge flatscreen TV hooked up to a half-dozen gaming consoles, current and retro. To his left were several bookshelves packed with manga and steamy-looking romantasy books. Behind him, above a navy blue couch covered in more empty Red Bulls and crumpled-up classwork, two huge posters of Mount Lady from My Hero Academia and D.Va from Overwatch loomed like giant billboards. Putting all of this together, it didn't take a genius to figure out that he had woken up in House Minerva—the sorority known to everyone else at Ventus as the "Nerd House."
If the jocks in House Diana were the strongest girls on campus, and the e-girls in Fortuna were the hottest, the nerds in Minerva were quite easily the smartest. They dominated every serious field of study, boasted some of the school's best and brightest alumni, and, as a direct result of their relentless course loads, were also frequently some of the slobbiest and least sexually active young women around. Most spent all their waking hours either obsessively cramming for classes or immersing themselves in their favorite games and anime, leaving little time for things like dating, partying, or good personal hygiene. In other words, despite their firmly established place in Ventus's top tier of well-funded, prestigious sororities, the majority of the house's undergrads were far from traditional collegiate popular girls. While they weren't nearly as bad as the straight-up femcels in House Prosperina, the general consensus was that they didn't get out much.
Realizing where he was, the freshly-shrunken freshman couldn't help feeling a little relieved. If he had any shot of finding a way back to normal, it would probably start with one of Minerva's many certified brainiacs—and in here, he didn't have to worry about overbearing jocks, kooky goths, bratty e-girls or fetid gooners. The only question now was whether to try venturing into the hall or stay put.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, before he could spend any more time trying to game the whole situation out, he heard a door opening on the other side of the room—and when he turned around, he couldn't help grimacing.
"Oh, fuck," he whispered, staring up at the dark-skinned amazon in the doorway with a mix of awe and terror. Between her statuesque figure, striking good looks and characteristically severe demeanor, there was no mistaking her for anyone else. This was Veronica Maxwell—the dorm mother of House Minerva and the single biggest hard-ass at Ventus.
Wearing her usual tight white button-up, equally tight black pleated skirt, stockings and pumps, the 6'4", 300-pound 32-year-old Black woman looked like nothing short of a goddess. Every inch of her voluptuous body radiated raw feminine power, and her clothing did very little to hide it. As she stepped into the room, curves jiggling enticingly with every step, she scanned the space with practiced precision—and when she locked onto the three-inch-tall young man on the coffee table, she scowled. "Well, well, well," she said, adjusting her glasses. "What do we have here?"
"Uh... hi!" Forcing a smile, Max offered a half-hearted wave. "V-Veronica, right? My name's Max. We met at the STEM info session a couple of weeks ago?"
"Max?" For a moment, Veronica seemed to hesitate. Then, her face hardened. "Ah, yes. You were the one who couldn't stop staring at my chest. And now you're doing it again."
"W-what?!" Max shook his head, already feeling sweat forming on his neck. "N-no! I mean-"
"Save your breath," said Veronica, stepping up to the table. "Are you aware that entering this dormitory without a female chaperone as a male student is an offense punishable by expulsion? To say nothing of your... dress code violations."
"Y-yes," said Max, remembering his nakedness and cupping both hands over his groin. "The thing is, I can't remember anything about how I got here. I just woke up like this."
"You 'just woke up like this.'" Veronica's scowl deepened. "You really expect me to believe that?"
"It's true!" Max implored, slowly backing away. "H-hang on, what are you... whoa-"
By the time the shrunken freshman realized he'd reached the edge of the coffee table, the giant dorm mother was upon him—stooping down and snatching him up in her hand. For Max, the experience of being carried by another human being was deeply surreal—especially this specific human being.
"You," said Veronica, turning and strolling out of the common room, "are coming with me."
"W-wait!! Please!" Squirming against Veronica's powerful grasp, Max had no luck hiding the fear in his voice. "This isn't my fault; you've got to believe me!"
Already halfway down the hall, Veronica shook her head. "I told you to save your breath."
"P-please!" Max stammered. "I'll do anything!"
The giant dorm mother smirked. "That's what I'm counting on."
The few times Max had glimpsed Veronica around campus, she'd always struck him as the picture of composure—but as she carried him into her room, she seemed uncharacteristically excited. Breathing heavily as she locked the door, her face flushed and her nipples visibly erect through her crisp white shirt, she was clearly looking forward to whatever punishment she had planned for him. Her sense of decor didn't do much to ease his nerves, either. The walls of her room were covered in posters featuring giant, voluptuous anime women dominating tiny, scrawny men; her desk was stacked with smutty books and comics with titles like "My Shrunken Lover" and "Giant Girls, Tiny Guys, Vol. 2," and the nightstand by her bed hosted a sprawling collection of sex toys—many of which appeared to be molded in the shape of doll-sized men in a variety of subservient-looking positions.
"You know," said Veronica, her voice unsettlingly husky, "you're the first shrunken guy I've ever seen in real life."
"Oh! R-really?" Feeling the warmth of the giantess's breath from his perch in her hand, Max gulped. "S-so you know how I ended up like this?"
"There are a few ways it could have happened," she said, nodding. "Serums, pills, powders."
"So there's a way to undo this?" Again, Max forced a smile. "T-that's great!"
"Don't get ahead of yourself." Veronica smiled back, setting her shrunken captive down on her bed. "We still haven't discussed your punishment."
Before Max could ask what she meant, the mature giantess began unbuttoning her shirt—which took considerable effort based on how tightly it clung to her prodigious chest. Once she got the garment off, her bra followed, leaving her massive, full, visibly sweaty breasts — complete with rock-hard nipples the size of quarters — tantalizingly exposed. Then, if this wasn't already an overwhelming enough sight to the 18-year-old virgin on her bed, she turned around and slipped out of her skirt and underwear.
"Like what you see?" cooed Veronica, turning back around and looming her big, bouncy butt over Max.
"Y-yeah," said Max, blushing.
"Good." Veronica chuckled. "How about a closer look?"
Without another word, the giant dorm mother slammed her colossal ass down on top of the three-inch-tall freshman, burying him in a sea of warm, soft, slightly sweaty flesh. It probably would have felt more pleasant at regular size, but now, it was like getting caught in a one-woman avalanche—an overwhelming barrage of pressure, heat, and, most of all, smell.
"Mmm..." Veronica moaned, voice shaky with pleasure. "Max, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."
"Veronica... p-please..." Beneath Veronica's vast rump, Max's voice was barely a whisper. "I... I can't breathe down here!"
"Oh, how inconsiderate of me." Veronica squeezed her cheeks together even tighter, making Max's struggles even more intense. "Let me give you some air..."
BBBBBBRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP
As Veronica let out a long, bassy fart, Max's mind was reeling. Buried under her buttocks, surrounded by overpowering heat and stink, there was nothing he could do to escape her gas—and after just a few lungfuls, he already felt like he was going to throw up.
"Ahh..." Veronica bit her lip, savoring the frantic motions of the tiny man under her butt. "That's better. Now... I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you a few minutes ago. The punishment for entering this dormitory without a female chaperone can be expulsion... but it's up to the acting dorm mother to decide whether that's necessary."
With his face pressed against Veronica's massive, hairy asshole, Max's voice was small and muffled—but still managed to make it up to his giant captor's ears. "Wh-what are you saying?"
Again, Veronica grinned. "I'm saying I've decided to handle your punishment myself. And if you can show me that you've learned your lesson, I might even consider helping you get back to normal."
"R-really?!" Again, the shrunken freshman's voice was almost unintelligible.
"Sure," said Veronica, her fingers tracing the outline of her pussy. "But that's a big 'if.'"
"W-whatever I have to do," whimpered Max. "I'll do it. Please!"
"That's the spirit." Veronica licked her lips. "Here's your first test: make me cum."
"C-cum?" Max swallowed hard. At 18, he'd still never even kissed a girl—and now, through some bizarre sequence of events, Veronica was expecting him to bring her to orgasm!
"Yes," said Veronica, wiggling her big, brown, sweaty booty in his tiny face. "Cum. You do know girls cum too, don't you, Max?"
"I... y-yeah." Still struggling to avoid suffocating under the voluptuous dorm mother's ass, Max found that forming a coherent sentence now took significant effort. "W-well... I-it might be easier if you, uh... put me... y'know. Up front?"
Veronica chuckled. "You mean my vagina?"
"Uh... yeah," said Max, wincing. "Th-that."
Veronica's chuckle became a laugh—the same kind Max had gotten from the few girls he'd worked up the courage to ask out in high school. "You really think you deserve to pleasure me like that?" Reaching a hand back, she inched her tiny captive even closer to her colossal asshole. "How about you focus on making me cum like this. And then, if you're really good, maybe you can work your way 'up front.'"
"O-okay." Staring down the huge, dirty pucker in front of him, Max shuddered. Then, trying his best not to think too hard about the circumstances surrounding his current situation, or the fact that his only hope of ever returning to normal was the incredibly horny amazon currently threatening his life, he closed his eyes and started licking. As his tongue made contact with Veronica's wrinkled sphincter, he found that the taste was unlike anything he'd ever experienced—and entirely in a bad way.
BBRRRAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP
As another colossal fart rippled out into him, Max pulled his face away and gagged. The smell was even worse than before—and this time, he'd had his mouth open for it.
"You're not giving up that easily, are you?" Veronica sighed. "I was just getting warmed up."
"N-no!" Max stammered, forcing himself back against his captor's rancid hole. "S-sorry, Veronica!"
Resuming his efforts, the three-inch freshman racked his brain, trying to remember everything he'd learned about pleasing women from his extensive browsing history. Unfortunately, the only porn he'd ever watched starred regular-sized people, and if there was any strategy to eating ass as a shrunken guy, he didn't have it. At his newfound size, Veronica's asshole was roughly the size of a manhole cover—and his tongue was already getting sore.
"I'm not sure this is working." Shaking her head, Veronica brought a hand back between her cheeks. "Maybe you need a little... motivation."
"W-wait!" As he felt Veronica's fingers wrapping around him again, Max struggled more frantically than ever. She seemed to be forcing him even deeper into her ass! "I'm good! You don't have to-"
"But I want to," said Veronica, forcing her shrunken captor's head up into her anus.
Beneath her, Max was in hell—and no matter how much he tried to resist, Veronica's asshole refused to yield. As he felt it wrapping around his head, then his torso, then his legs, surrounding him with warm, slimy, foul-smelling darkness, he got a surge of unshakeable dread. It was almost like it had a mind of its own... and it was very, very hungry.
Within a few seconds, he was completely entombed. Meanwhile, his captor remained unimpressed. After a lifetime of exclusively getting off by herself, Max's attempts to pleasure her were thoroughly underwhelming—and his involuntary struggles inside her weren't much better.
"Max." She scowled. "Are you trying to fail this test?"
"P-please..." Despite his protests, Max's resolve was quickly fading. His entire body was enveloped in an overwhelmingly foul odor, and every attempt to free himself only seemed to pull him deeper into the depths of the horny amazon's rectum. "Veronica, I..."
Feeling her tiny captive's struggles finally cease, Veronica rolled her eyes. While she'd hoped to get at least one good orgasm out of her new shrunken plaything, his first attempt at ass-play wasn't anything like what she'd been hoping for. More than anything else, Max's attempts to please her — and escape her — were just pathetic.
***
When Max regained consciousness, he was being forced out of his hot, dark, foul-smelling prison and into the open air—only to land unceremoniously in a huge, frigid pool of water surrounded by sloping white walls. Struggling to the surface and wiping his eyes, he quickly realized where he was: Veronica's toilet.
PFOOOOOOTTTTTTT
As the bowl filled with the smell of another fart, Max couldn't help feeling lucky that this was the only thing joining him in the water.
"Well, Max," said his giant captor, still seated firmly above him. "Good news and bad news. The bad news is, I'm afraid you failed your first test."
"W-wait!" Max pleaded, teeth chattering. "Please! Let me try again... I can do better!"
"After that performance?" Veronica chuckled. "I don't think so... but you didn't let me tell you the good news."
"G-good news?" Right now, Max had his doubts that they shared the same definition of the term.
Standing and glancing down at her tiny captive, Veronica looked even more intimidating than ever. "The good news is, you just survived an entire hour up my ass and you're still alive. Which makes me think you might not be half bad as a test subject."
"A test subject?!" Struggling to tread water, the terrified shrunken freshman's eyes went wide. "F-for what?"
"Just a few experiments I've been running in my spare time." Veronica smiled. "Nothing major."
With no other choice, Max decided to risk one more question. "A-and then you'll help me get back to normal?"
"Maybe." Veronica shrugged. "Alternatively, I could just flush you."
Max was frozen—literally and metaphorically. While he'd managed to hold on to some semblance of hope until now, the idea of being the subject of Veronica's kinky science experiments was starting to sound more like a death sentence than a second chance. Then again, the alternative was drowning in her toilet.
"I..." Utterly broken, Max let out a long sigh of defeat. "Alright, fine, I'll do it."
"Good." Grinning, Veronica reached toward her shrunken captor and plucked him out of the water. "You know... something tells me this is the start of a very productive relationship..."
***
The next several hours were the longest of Max's life. Trapped up Veronica's ass as she headed to the dining hall for breakfast before stopping by her office in the Chemistry department to catch up on work, he was subjected to at least several dozen farts and an endless flood of butt sweat. When the amazonian dorm mother finally peeled him out and dropped him down on her desk, he was barely conscious.
"Fascinating," said Veronica, duly impressed at his apparent resilience toward everything she'd thrown at him—and the visible arousal the whole ordeal had left him with. "Any normal human of your size would be dead by now."
"D-dead?" Still struggling to get his bearings and adapt to the sudden influx of fresh, oxygen-rich air flowing into his lungs, the shrunken freshman winced.
"It's simple physics, really." Veronica shifted her hips slightly, making her chair groan. "The human body just isn't built to withstand that kind of pressure for that long. To say nothing of the smell."
"Oh," said Max, coughing a few times. On the one hand, if what she was saying was true, he was lucky to be alive. On the other hand, he wasn't excited about whatever "experiments" she would put him through to find out why.
"In other words," said Veronica, adjusting her glasses, "it seems like you're stronger than you look. The only question now is... just how much stronger?"
Again, Max winced. "W-what do you mean?"
"I mean, it's time to run some tests." Standing up and grabbing her tiny captive, the voluptuous chemist strolled over to the double doors behind her desk. As the doors slid open, Max saw that the room beyond was a vast, state-of-the-art chem lab—clearly, some kind of private study for Veronica's personal projects.
"First things first," said Veronica, strolling over to a large digital scale in the corner of the room. "Pressure."
Max blinked. "W-what?"
Rather than answering, his giant captor simply stooped to place him on the scale—then butt-slammed herself down on top of him!
For Max, the impact of Veronica's butt was absolutely biblical. Even after several hours of close proximity to her all-powerful booty, nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming force of her entire 300-pound frame dropping like a bomb. It was like getting hit by a train, times a thousand—and Veronica was just getting started. After several subsequent butt-slams, the only thing that made her stop was the fact that the scale had given out—the plate bent beyond repair, and the digital display cracked beyond recognition.
"My, my," said Veronica, eyeing the broken scale and raising her eyebrows. "You really are a tough one."
Below her, against all odds, Max was still breathing—but just barely. "Veronica, please... I..."
"Don't worry," she said, plucking him up and stepping over to a shelf full of beakers and glassware. "We're almost done."
Again, rather than giving Max an overview of the test he was about to endure, she set right to work—grabbing a large conical flask from the shelf and dropping her shrunken captive inside. As Max struggled to get his bearings inside the clear-walled enclosure, he felt the whole thing shifting. Looking up, he had just enough time to take a final deep breath before Veronica brought the flask around to her ass and pressed her asshole over the top!
PRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPP
If the previous test had been designed to crush him, this one was clearly meant to asphyxiate him—and if her first fart was any indication, he wasn't optimistic about his chances. Trapped inside the flask, with nothing to breathe but the remains of Veronica's breakfast, Max already felt even dizzier and more nauseous than ever.
"S-stop," he tried to say, but the only thing that came out was a strained wheeze.
PPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP
After a heavy lunch of pizza and spicy wings, the dorm mother's farts proved more than enough to silence her shrunken captive—and she was loving every second of it. Biting her lip, eyes closed, with one hand on Max's flask and another between her legs, she could hardly contain herself. Maybe, she thought, this little pervert was good for something after all.
"Mmm... mmmmf..."
Inside the flask, Max could feel himself getting weaker. Inundated by a flood of hot, humid, revoltingly rancid-smelling gas, his thoughts were a hazy stream at best, although one specific thought seemed much louder and clearer than the rest: that this was where he really belonged.
"V-veronica..." He wheezed. "P-p... l... ease..."
BBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
Rather than showing any mercy, Veronica continued her relentless barrage of flatulence. According to her calculations, she had full confidence that he'd survive—albeit with a not-insignificant risk of lingering psychological damage.
"Ver... o-oniii..." Inside the flask, Max could only hang on for a few seconds more before he blacked out.
***
When Max woke up, he was sitting on Veronica's desk—and his giant captor looked very pleased.
"You know, you're a very interesting specimen, Max," said the giant dorm mother, patting him on the head with a finger.
"T-thanks..." Swallowing hard, the tiny freshman struggled to form the words. "S-so, um... did I pass?"
"Pass what?" Veronica smirked.
"You know... the pressure plate and the glass tube? C-can you grow me back to normal now?"
"You mean the Erlenmeyer flask?" She chuckled. "That was just my way of knocking you out. Made it much easier to take a few DNA samples and do some real testing..."
Max sighed. "Oh..."
"Hey," she said, smiling, "cheer up. Based on what I found, I've already got several ideas for follow-up experiments."
"Oh..." Again, Max's head was pounding, and not just because of his injuries. "W-well, y-you said-"
Veronica narrowed her eyes. "I said you'd make a good test subject. And I was right. And so you're going to continue being my test subject until I'm done with you. Do I make myself clear?"
"...Y-yeah, sure," mumbled Max.
"Good." The giant dorm mother grinned. "That's better."
"So... what now?"
"Now?" Veronica leaned back in her chair. "Well, there's one particular experiment I'm keen to try..."
PART 2
If Max's first day of being three inches tall was long and unpleasant, the next six were something else entirely. Despite ending up in the care of one of Ventus's best and brightest scientific minds, he quickly found himself pressed into a never-ending cycle of humiliating tests and experiments—all of which, for some reason, seemed to involve the brilliant chemist's butt, feet, sweat, and farts. While Veronica continually reassured him that this was all in the service of science, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was much more about helping her live out her most depraved, dommy fantasies than anything else.
His only respite from her torments came at night, nestled into her colossal ass to prevent him from escaping, trying to get what little sleep he could between her incessant nocturnal emissions. Aside from that, it was a day-in-day-out cycle of domination with no apparent rhyme or reason—and by the end of his first week as her involuntarily resized test subject, his odds of returning to normal felt slimmer than ever.
BBBBBRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP
Today, seven days out from his first fateful morning waking up in the common room of House Minerva, he was roused by one of Veronica's farts—probably at least the thousandth one he'd had to endure to date. After a whole week of breathing almost nothing but the giant dorm mother's rancid fumes, he was starting to find the act of doing so a little less openly uncomfortable—but with his tiny face trapped squarely against her asshole, there was nothing to lessen the sound, impact, or smell.
"Good morning, Max," said Veronica, rolling out of bed and pressing her tiny test subject even further against her huge pucker. "How'd you sleep?"
"F-fine," said Max, prying his lips away from his captor's asshole to manage a response. "Better than last night."
"Good," she said, smiling. "You're adapting. I had a feeling you would. That serum you got dosed with is... very interesting." Slipping into some panties to keep Max from sliding out of his prison, the Black giantess glanced at her phone and grinned. "Well, look at that."
"W-what?" Muffled by Veronica's cheeks and underwear, Max's voice was barely audible.
"Automated email from the lab," said Veronica, throwing on a shirt, skirt, stockings and shoes before stepping over to the door. "The first round of tests I set up last Saturday finally finished."
Max froze. "Y-You mean..."
Pppprrraaaaaaaaappppp
Shivering with pleasure as she felt her tiny test subject starting to squirm around in the aftermath of yet another fart, Veronica giggled. "I mean, we're about to find out what you got dosed with."
***
Twenty minutes later, following some much-needed coffee and eggs, Veronica was back in her lab, booting up her research equipment. Beneath her, Max remained as dazed as ever—and was already bracing for the effects her breakfast would doubtlessly inspire once it all started going through her digestive system.
"Alright," she said, smiling. "Moment of truth."
A second later, sure enough, her testing results appeared onscreen. When she saw them, her eyes went wide. "Hmm. That's... interesting."
"What is it?" Still trapped between the mature amazon's immense buttocks, all Max could do was squirm around impatiently.
"The serum you got dosed with doesn't match any of the serums we've got on file here," said Veronica, giving her cheeks a playful clench around her test subject to limit his struggles. And we've got most of the big ones. Looks like whatever you got dosed with is a custom job."
"So... what does that mean?" With his capacity to struggle limited, Max felt more powerless than ever.
"If you're asking whether it'll help you get back to normal, no." Veronica shook her head. "Given that this is a whole new serum, there's probably no antidote. So, we'd need to synthesize a completely new one from scratch. Which means at least a year of testing, R&D, the works."
"A year?" Max felt his heart sink. If Veronica was telling the truth, all the hopes he'd been holding out until now seemed more irrational than ever.
"Tough break, I know," said Veronica, smirking. "But not the end of the world."
"H-how can you say that?" With his dreams of escaping this nightmare collapsing before his eyes, Max had no reservations about raising his voice.
"Because," said Veronica, firmly clenching her cheeks again to scold her tiny test subject for his audacity, "whoever designed this serum was nothing short of a genius. Usually, these kinds of compounds are single use. You take it, the effects kick in, and that's it. But this one binds directly to your DNA. So, once it's there, it's there forever. And it seems to be designed to respond to various supplementary serums that affect different parts of your body."
"Wh-..." Crushed tighter than ever between Veronica's big, blubbery buttocks, Max needed every ounce of energy at his disposal to eke out a reply. "What?"
"Sorry," giggled Veronica, relaxing her cheeks. "Sometimes I forget you're not a science guy. Let me dumb it down a little for you. There's no way to reverse the primary effect of this serum, but you can adjust its secondary effects after you take it. So, hypothetically, we could make you a little stronger, a little smaller, a little more... compliant..."
BBBRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPP
As another thunderous fart exploded out of his giant captor's asshole and into his face, Max grimaced. Everything she was in the process of laying on him made her gas smell even worse than before. Now, it wasn't just some temporary torment to endure. If worst came to worst, this might just be his life forever.
"O-okay," he wheezed, struggling not to cough on the remains of Veronica's breakfast. "So, uh... so what?"
"Well," said Veronica, adjusting her glasses. "Really, at this point, it stops being a chemistry problem and starts being more of a business opportunity. Up until now, most shrinking serums have been fairly... niche. They're expensive, they're unreliable, and they're hard to synthesize. But this... well, according to these results, this serum might be incredibly easy to produce at scale. And it's modular."
Max groaned. "You're saying you're going to start making this stuff?"
"Precisely," said Veronica, peeling her shrunken test subject out of her ass and pulling him up to her face. "And you're going to help me do it."
Squinting his eyes to adjust to the sudden influx of bright light from the lab's overheads, Max scowled. "Me?"
"Yes, you." She giggled. "I mean, what else are you supposed to do now?"
"I don't know..." Max's face fell. "Try to get back to normal?"
Veronica snorted. "Good luck finding anyone else who could make that happen for you. Then again, I suppose I've already got more than enough of your DNA to start making the serum by myself... so I guess I could let you go, and you could go strike out on your own." She grinned. "Assuming you don't get stepped on, just trying to get out of this building. Or found by someone much less merciful than I am."
As Veronica's words sank in, Max started feeling worse. The more the giant dorm mother laid out just how fucked he appeared to be, the more part of him was seriously considering her offer.
"And even if you made it out of here, then what? Going to the hospital?" Veronica scoffed. "Like any run-of-the-mill doctor would have any clue what to do with you."
Max sighed. "You don't think so?"
"I know so," said Veronica, sounding smugger than ever. "I'm sure this seems like a tough break from where you're sitting. But what I'm offering you here is a purpose. A chance to help me build something that changes the world for the better."
"By making it easier to shrink people?" Max winced.
"Men, specifically." Veronica flashed another grin. "Just imagine it. A guy like you, for every woman in the world? It'd be a revolution. Bigger than the internet."
"I..." Max shook his head, struggling to accept everything Veronica was saying at face value. "I guess I never saw you as a business type."
"Ordinarily, no." Veronica's grin grew. "But I minored in Economics as an undergrad. And it's not every day that a trillion-dollar opportunity like this falls into my lap. Anyway, enough talk. What'll it be?"
"I..." Max hesitated. Despite everything Veronica had put him through this week, part of him was seriously considering her offer. If there really wasn't any chance of him getting back to normal any time soon, and the only alternative was trying to make it on his own and risking all the dangers of the big, wide world at three inches tall, he might as well stay where he was. Sure, Veronica's treatment was borderline evil—but it was also the closest thing to a known evil he had right now.
Several seconds passed in silence. Then, with a deep, solemn breath, he looked up at the voluptuous Black chemist and nodded. "Let's do it."
Veronica nodded back. "Good choice."
***
One year later...
It was a warm late October Monday morning around 7 AM, and Veronica was just waking up after a long and very restful night. Rolling over on her back for a big stretch, she sighed with satisfaction. Her new California King-size mattress was worth every penny she'd paid for it, and the high-thread-count sheets and luxurious pillows on top were just the icing on the cake.
brrrraaaappppppppp
Beneath her, nestled between her cheeks in his usual place, her shrunken test-subject-turned-assistant Max was in the process of being gassed awake. Twelve months as her live-in butt boy had done much to help him adapt to the realities of life in her ass. Not that it made her farts smell any better.
"Ahem," chuckled Veronica, a sliver of apparent impatience in her tone.
Knowing what his captor expected of him, Max gritted his teeth and pressed his face against her asshole, plastering it with kisses.
"That's better," the voluptuous amazon giggled, rolling out of bed. "Good morning, Max."
"G-good morning, Veronica," Max sighed, allowing himself to go limp as his captor peeled him out of her crack and shuffled into the bathroom. As she placed him down on the marble countertop and settled herself on the toilet, he braced himself for all the awful smells to come. Putting aside all the things she'd put him through in the last year, he felt thankful she still had the baseline compassion to remove him from her ass when she went to take a dump.
Several dozen wipes and a quick shower later, Veronica was downstairs in the kitchen, sitting at another polished marble countertop, sipping a cup of coffee and catching up on emails. Somehow, running a business came with even more correspondence than academia, and she never wasted an opportunity to take out her frustrations on her obedient assistant. Even when her full-sized underlings let her down, she knew she could always count on Max to diligently absorb whatever came out of her ass and keep any of her new designer pantsuits from getting stained.
BBBRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPP
Ripping another coffee-fueled fart into her shrunken assistant's face as she hammered out a response to a particularly incompetent subordinate, she couldn't resist taking her frustrations out on him by grinding her hips into her chair. As with all her most irksome lackeys at work, today's problem subordinate was a male. A few more mistakes like this one, she thought, and she'd have him relegated to R&D.
Once she finished her coffee, she headed down to her six-car garage and stepped into her car—a brand new silver Rolls Royce, a birthday present to herself purchased after her company secured its second round of funding. She'd never been one for empty status symbols before last year, although having a billion dollars in the bank did a lot to change that. So did her ten-bedroom, fifteen-bathroom Palo Alto mansion—a far cry from the dorm housing where she'd spent most of her 20s and 30s. Door to door, the drive to work took her about fifty minutes—plenty of time to inundate Max with several dozen more heinous farts. This was another critical part of her pre-work ritual, ensuring her tank was empty ahead of her most strenuous meetings, which inevitably took place earlier in the day.
While all this was happening, Max remained in a state of hazy catatonia. He'd never felt completely confident in his decision to stay with Veronica, although he couldn't deny that he was physically quite safe and secure. Being the shrunken plaything of a billionaire biotech tycoon had its fair share of perks—although he still spent every waking hour of his life trapped in her asscrack, huffing her farts and trying not to asphyxiate. The upside was that he was usually too high on her fumes to give these thoughts much serious attention.
When Veronica had started selling shrinking serum last year, she'd headquartered her company out of her lab at Ventus—but once her products hit the market, it was only a matter of time before they had to scale up. Their first official office had been a coworking space in Palo Alto. Then, following their first round of funding, they'd moved to their latest digs, a massive skyscraper in the San Francisco financial district where they had the top thirty floors all to themselves. They even had their name on the building—"MAXCORP," lit up with huge LEDs and big enough that it was still legible at least a mile away.
Every time Veronica saw it on the drive to work, she couldn't help smiling—and today was no different. Of course, the name was a play on her last name, Maxwell. The fact that it was also her assistant's first name was pure coincidence.
After being waved through by security and parking in her reserved spot in the garage beneath the office, Veronica stepped out of the car and clenched her cheeks around her shrunken assistant. "You awake back there, Max?"
Struggling to life again, Max gave his giant captor's asshole another kiss with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
"Good," she said, stepping over to the executive elevator beside her parking spot and swiping her ID card. "Because we've got a big day ahead of us."
As usual, Veronica decided to start her day in R&D. After cornering the market on shrinking serum, she'd made a point to invest a significant chunk of the company's resources into the research and development of even more innovative products—namely, an exciting range of supplementary compounds to expand the capabilities of their original product. In addition to allocating several floors of the new office to research, she'd also spared no expense recruiting some of the best, brightest and smelliest young women from House Minerva to spearhead the department. Of course, it was still too early in the morning for most of them to be here yet. Right now, she proceeded down the spotless white halls of the testing floor to her personal lab, stocked with everything she needed to explore a few specific "passion projects."
Her favorite project, an experiment she'd been running nearly as long as they'd been in the new office, was a long-term sociological test. The experiment was a massive terrarium, ten feet by ten feet across, filled with several hundred one-millimeter-tall former male interns and several tiny pastoral villages with thatched roofs. The running joke in R&D was that it also included every single former male MaxCorp employee who'd ever gotten on Veronica's nerves... and she'd never done anything to dispel that rumor.
Every night, the terrarium was sprayed with a mist of a specific proprietary serum she'd been developing—code-named "New World." Unlike most of the other chemicals MaxCorp had produced to date, this one worked primarily on the brain. It was designed to erase the subject's long-term memories and encourage feelings of intense submissiveness—and based on the way the guys in the terrarium reacted whenever she came in to check on them, it seemed to be working perfectly. By now, most of them had zero recollection of their lives before the experiment. As far as they knew, the known world ended at the limits of the vast glass mountains that walled them in—and they were ruled by an unpredictable, beautiful goddess of terrible power.
As Veronica stepped up to the edge of the enclosure, she grinned as she saw her tiny subjects already bowing to her. Unable to resist giving them a gift in appreciation of their reverence, she turned around, hiked her butt out and prepared to take her second big dump of the day.
BBBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP
A five-second fart blasted out of her ass and washed over the terrarium like a sulfuric tidal wave, blowing the roofs off buildings and knocking several hundred of her subjects out cold, followed by several absolutely colossal bricks of shit. Fueled by this morning's coffee and last night's heavy dinner of Mexican takeout, each log was a little over eight inches long and a full inch and a half wide—roughly the size of a cruise ship to the enclosure's residents. As Veronica turned around to survey the damage, she could just barely hear them cheering, many at the top of their lungs, thanking her for her generous gift. While this was all happening, still wedged in Veronica's ass, Max shuddered. For all the indignities his captor had ever visited on him, none of it would ever hold a candle to this.
"Enjoy that, you bugs," Veronica chuckled. "I'll be back later."
After giving the boys in the terrarium a final wave, she sauntered over to her next experiment—another glass-walled enclosure filled with slightly larger shrunken test subjects. This one resembled a giant jar, a few feet across on each side and roughly three feet high, and the men inside were all roughly the same size as Max. The most significant difference between this enclosure and the "New World" was that this one was completely airtight—except for a single one-way air duct the size of a golf ball on the top.
As she approached the jar, the subjects inside responded with similar enthusiasm—rushing up to the edges of their clear prison and anxiously pawing the walls, beckoning her closer. Happily obliging, Veronica winked and pulled down her pants. Well aware of the drill with this particular test, Max allowed himself to go limp again as his captor peeled him out of her ass and set him down on the table beside the jar. With her asscrack clear, Veronica then climbed up on top of the enclosure, leveling her asshole with the single hole in the top, and let rip.
ffrraaaaappppppp
Compared to the fart she'd just let loose on her New World, this one was fairly tame—but it was still more than enough to flood the entire enclosure with her fumes. Thanks to the serum that all the subjects in this test had been dosed with, code-named "Fart Breath," that was exactly what they'd been hoping for. As her gas settled into the jar, the shrunken men inside became noticeably less anxious. Many almost looked high.
Scanning their reactions, Veronica smiled again. So far, this was already shaping up to be one of the most successful products she'd ever devised—and easily one of the cruelest. Just a few weeks into the experiment, the men in the jar were hopelessly addicted to her farts. She had a feeling the chemical compound behind this phenomenon would go on to become one of MaxCorp's top sellers.
Watching all of this never failed to give Max a much-needed dose of perspective. Until now, his captor had mercifully refrained from testing any of her creations directly on him, save for a few initial attempts in the company's early days. He felt very thankful she'd decided he'd be more useful as an assistant than a lab rat before she'd developed this particular serum.
Grabbing her assistant and shoving him back down into her ass, Veronica turned her attention to the final experiment in her current roster. While it remained confined to some tests on her work laptop for now, it had the potential to be the most interesting and disruptive product MaxCorp had ever produced in the long term—perhaps even more so than "New World."
While still in the earliest possible stages of development, all of her initial testing seemed to confirm that it was possible to reverse the effects of the process that had shrunk Max in the first place—but not for men. With the same amount of serum Max was dosed with, it was seemingly possible to multiply the height and weight of a female test subject anywhere from ten to fifty times. Checking in on a few ongoing tests from her laptop, she was pleased to find that all the numbers continued to point toward positive results. She'd already told multiple members of her R&D team that she'd be the first to try the prototype once they finished synthesizing one, and she meant it.
"Some day, Max," she sighed, giving her cheeks another clench around her assistant, "we're gonna look back on all of this as the beginning of something really, really incredible."
Beneath her, all Max could do was shudder.
A few minutes later, Veronica was back in her office, dialing up her first contact—the latest in a long string of conversations regarding a possible merger with one of the world's largest pharmaceutical companies. While the talks had started with the possibility of the company buying out MaxCorp, Veronica's meteoric rise had flipped the tables in a matter of weeks. Now, MaxCorp was going to acquire the pharmaceutical company—and use its infrastructure to make their serums even more widely available than ever.
pfffooooooootttttt
"Helen. Veronica." Leaning back in her luxe office chair, Veronica couldn't help grinning as she felt her assistant squirming around in the wake of the silent-but-deadly fart she'd just cut in his face. "Let's talk."
While this conversation was happening, Max was immersed in his most important duty—absorbing Veronica's farts during meetings so that her business partners wouldn't have to smell them and she wouldn't have to worry about holding them in. Even though most of her meetings were virtual today, he knew he couldn't disappoint her—at least, if he wanted to avoid ending up as another one of her lab rats.
It wasn't exactly the most glamorous job in the world, although he took some strange pride in fulfilling such a valuable role for someone who had become such a powerful and influential figure since he'd first met her. All of her power, at some level, came from him. Not that she'd ever acknowledged that in any real way or given him a taste of the benefits of that power. For all intents and purposes, his life hadn't changed at all since that first fateful Saturday morning. Then again, he knew it could have been worse. He just wasn't sure how.