By: maximally
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. Then, a high-pitched squeal split the air.
"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!"
Max had seen Sydney Baker around campus before — even at a school full of knockout girls, her cotton-candy pink twin-tails, eye-searingly "kawaii" outfits, and eye-popping curves were impossible to miss — but her proportions were even more staggering up close. At a hair over five feet tall, she was the definition of a shortstack—almost disproportionately curvy, with an exaggerated, gravity-defying hourglass figure. Her current outfit, a pair of pink Hello Kitty PJs that were at least two sizes too small, left nothing to the imagination, either. The top looked like it was seconds away from surrendering to her prodigious boobs, and the shorts rode so high they might as well have been panties, hem digging into her plush thighs with every eager step toward him.
As the bubbly sophomore skidded to a halt in front of the coffee table, her chest was heaving with excitement. Her blue eyes sparkled with manic glee, her lips parting in a grin equal parts saccharine and predatory. Max barely had time to register that he might be in danger before she leaned in, looming her cleavage over him like a big, soft stormfront.
"You're a tiny! A real tiny!" She gasped. "How long have you been like this? Did you just wake up? Oh, you poor thing!"
Max flinched as her fingers twitched toward him, her bubblegum-pink nails glinting under the fluorescent lights. " I-I don't know," he stammered, instinctively scrambling backward. "Last thing I remember is the party, and then—"
"Ooooh, a party?" Sydney leaned even further forward, her tits jiggling just a few inches over Max's head now. "Didja watch your drink? Like, at all?"
Max groaned. "I—I can't remember."
"Oh, right! Well… that tracks, too! House Juno loves dosing guys at parties. Especially cuties like you." She giggled, sizing up his naked form. "You're so lucky I found you first!"
Max's stomach twisted, glossing right past her backhanded compliment as he cupped a hand over his exposed groin. "Dosed with what?"
"Shrinking serum, duh!" Sydney rolled her eyes as if this were common knowledge. "A ton of girls here are obsessed with that crap—especially Junos. You just pick a guy, slip a little in his drink, wait a couple hours, and bam!" She wiggled her fingers at him, her grin widening. "Super messed up, right?"
"Yeah…" Max shook his head, feeling his hangover getting even worse in real time. "So… I-is there a cure?"
"Nope!" Sydney's grin didn't waver. "But don't worry! I can totally help you out. Just—" She glanced around the common room, then dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "—not here. Too many ears. Now, hang on!"
Before Max could think of any follow-up questions — or even start to get his head around the fact that he might be stuck like this forever — he felt Sydney's fingers closing around him. Her grip was firm but playful—almost like she'd done this before. His world lurched, the ground vanishing beneath him as she lifted him toward her chest. The heat radiating off her skin was oppressive, the scent of perfume and something muskier flooding his senses. Then, with a wet squelch of sweaty skin, she unceremoniously shoved him into her top.
"There we go," Sydney cooed, pulling her top up to conceal the top of Max's head. "Comfy?"
Max gasped as he was plunged into the suffocating warmth of Sydney's cleavage. Her breasts engulfed him, pillowy flesh pressing against every inch of his body, the sheer weight of them pinning him in place. Her pajamas scratched against his bare skin, the erratic thump of her heartbeat vibrating through him as she adjusted him snugly between her tits. If what this girl had just told him was true, he was going to have to get used to situations like this—and after 18 years as a kissless virgin, he wasn't sure how he felt about that.
"I'll take that as a yes," she chirped, giving her chest a playful bounce. "Alright, widdle guy, hold on tight!"
As Max continued wheezing, Sydney started moving, her hips swaying with each step as she carried him out of the common room. The world outside was a blur of motion and sound — laughter from a nearby open room, the hum of a gaming console, the distant thump of bass — and with every step she took, her shrunken passenger sank deeper into the slick, humid valley between her tits. By the time she reached her door, he was seconds away from being totally engulfed.
Fortunately, as he heard the door click shut behind them, a giant hand came down to set him free—plucking him from his sticky, sweaty prison with a wet pop. He dangled in Sydney's grip, legs kicking uselessly in the air as she examined him with the clinical detachment of a collector appraising a new figurine.
"Mmm, you're perfect." Tracing a fingertip down his chest, she set him down on her desk. The polished wood was cool against his overheated skin, a stark contrast to the humid warmth of her body as he scrambled upright to take in his surroundings.
Sydney's room was a shrine to kawaii chaos. Pink fairy lights crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the mountain of plushies piled on her bed—everything from pastel unicorns to anime waifus. Posters of magical girls and idol groups papered the walls, and a shelf displayed an army of Nendoroids, their glassy eyes seeming to watch him. The air smelled like cotton candy and the faint, sour tang of unwashed laundry—a pile of which was half-heartedly shoved into a corner, a neon pink bra dangling precariously from the top.
Sydney clapped her hands together. "Okay! First things first—welcome to my super cute room!" She struck a pose, one hand on her hip, the other flashing a peace sign. "Name's Sydney. Biochemistry major, and—" She winked. "—a proud member of Students for Tinies!"
Max blinked. "Students for… what?"
"Students for Tinies," Sydney repeated as if it were obvious. "It's, like, a super secret club for girls who love helping shrunken guys! We rescue guys like you and give them, like, shelter and care and stuff."
Seeing the hungry gleam in her eyes, Max forced a nod. "Oh. C-cool."
"Yeah!" Sydney clapped again. "But before we can really help you, I gotta run some super quick tests to assess your condition. Standard procedure!"
As Max opened his mouth to ask what that meant, Sydney's hand descended. Her palm flattened against his back, shoving him facedown as she splayed her fingers possessively around him.
"Test one: Boob compression!"
Her free hand grabbed one of her breasts, hefting the massive orb before slamming it down onto Max. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, her dime-sized nipple pressing into the small of his back. She giggled, grinding her chest against him, the soft flesh molding around his body like quicksand, and the scent of her skin filling his nose as her weight pinned him even harder.
"Oooh, you're so wiggly!" she cooed. "That's good! Means your motor functions are intact!"
"Sydney," Max groaned, his voice muffled under the immense mass of the curvy shortstack's left boob. "Can't breathe—"
"Aww, don't be such a baby!" She lifted her breast just enough to let him gasp before dropping it again, this time with a playful bounce. Her chest hit Max like a one-woman avalanche, her flesh jiggling around him as he came to grips with his diminished size in a far more intimate way than ever before. "Next test: Butt compression!"
In one fluid motion, Sydney spun, her ass eclipsing Max's vision as she plopped down onto the desk. Her cheeks spread around him, the sheer mass of her rear down harder and harder with every second. The heat was unbearable, and her thin pajama shorts did nothing to mask the unmistakably funky smell of her ass.
"S-Sydney—!"
"Shhh, science is happening!" She wiggled her hips, grinding him even harder against her backdoor. "Gotta check your, uh… durability!"
Max's vision swam. Every squirm, every shift of her weight sent fresh waves of pressure through his body. What the hell was all this supposed to measure? His ability to survive being smothered?
Just when he thought he might pass out, Sydney stood, leaving him gasping on the desk, his skin flushed and sticky with her sweat.
"Last test!" she announced, leaning even harder into the desk and putting even more weight down on top of Max. Then—
Pbbbbbt
As a short, hot blast of air rushed out into Max's face, he let out a totally involuntary gasp. Had this girl really just farted on him? The thick, humid aroma that followed left no room for ambiguity. Yes, she had. Sydney's fart enveloped him, the stench filling his lungs and the warmth of it clinging to his skin like a second layer. Feeling his struggles beneath her, Sydney let out yet another giggle, wiggling her hips to ensure he got every last molecule.
"A-plus odor resistance!" she declared, standing up and clapping again. "You're perfect!"
Max coughed, his eyes watering. Beneath the humiliation, a single thought crystallized: none of this was a test. Sydney wasn't interested in helping him at all—and it made him wonder how much assistance he could expect from the other so-called "Students for Tinies."
Sydney's fingers drummed against her thigh as she stared at Max, her blue eyes flickering between excitement and hesitation. The tiny freshman was still plastered against her desk, his bare skin flushed from her earlier tests. Every muscle ached from being smothered beneath her overwhelming curves, and his nose still burned with the lingering smell of her ass. If this was the reality of life at three inches tall, Max wasn't feeling particularly hopeful.
"Hmm." Sydney bit her bottom lip, fishing her phone from a distorted pocket on her too-tight pajama shorts. "I guess I should probably let the rest of the team know I found you, huh?"
"Uh…" Still dazed, Max managed a weak shrug. "Sure?"
"Wasn't asking," Sydney giggled, her nails clacking against the screen. "Just thinking out loud."
Ignoring her condescension, Max craned his neck, catching a glimpse of her phone as she typed:
Syd: Heyyyy girls!!! Guess what I found???? A new tiny!!!!! He's SUPER cute, too!!!!! WAY more than the last one X333... emergency meeting time???
The casual cruelty in her words sent a chill down Max's spine. "What happened to the last... 'tiny' you found?"
Sydney paused mid-text, waving a hand dismissively. "Pfft, don't worry about him. He was, like, way less resilient than you."
Max grimaced. Obviously, this made him want to press further—but before he could, Sydney's phone started lighting up with responses.
Lotte: Nice. Meet at mine? Door's open.
Akane: I'll be there! (✿◠ᴗ◠)
Closing her phone, Sydney grinned again. "Ooooh, this is gonna be fun!" Before Max could protest, her fingers closed around him again. "Time for another ride, widdle guy~"
Once again, Max was plunged back into Sydney's cleavage. From this vantage point — buried beneath the curvy shortstack's cartoonishly large, impossibly soft boobs — all he could hear was a distorted blur of laughter, distant music, and the occasional squeal of excitement—most of it from Sydney herself, judging by the way her voice vibrated through her chest as she hummed some upbeat anime theme under her breath. Her breasts jostled him with every step, the pillowy flesh molding around him like a living straitjacket, each bounce threatening to swallow him deeper into their suffocating embrace.
By the time they stopped moving, Max was coated in another thin layer of Sydney's sweat. The sound of a door creaking open reached his ears, followed by a rush of cooler air. Then, without warning, Sydney's fingers plunged into her top and fished him back out.
They'd entered another dorm room, but this one was nothing like Sydney's pastel shrine. The walls were lined with shelves, each crammed with rulebooks, dice sets, and meticulously painted miniatures. A massive terrarium dominated half the room, its glass walls enclosing a sprawling, intricately detailed miniature village. Tiny buildings lined cobblestone streets, complete with dollhouse furniture, and even a little park with a fountain that actually trickled water.
Then there was the room's current occupant: Lotte Carlsen. She was taller than Sydney, with tan skin, thick-framed glasses, and a wild tangle of brown hair that looked like it hadn't seen a brush in days. Her button-up shirt was wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms dusted with what looked like model paint. Her green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she sized him up, her breath washing over him in a warm, slightly stale wave.
"Fascinating," Lotte murmured, adjusting her glasses as she examined Max like a specimen under a microscope. "Minimal bruising, no visible fractures, stable respiration."
"And he's adorable," Sydney added, squeezing Max between her fingers. "Look at his widdle face!"
Ignoring Sydney's color commentary, Lotte kept her attention squarely on Max. "Sorry, where are my manners? I'm Lotte, head of the Students for Tinies initiative. And this—" she gestured grandly to the terrarium, "—is our Tiny Rescue Center!"
Max blinked. "R-rescue center?"
"Yep!" Lotte extended her hand expectantly toward Sydney. "Syd, why don't we start by giving him the tour?"
Sydney scowled, her lower lip jutting out as she tightened her grip on Max. "Ugh, fine," she huffed, though she didn't let go immediately. "But only 'cause your setup is kinda cool." She gave Max one last squeeze before reluctantly passing him over, her fingers lingering just a second too long.
Lotte plucked him from Sydney's grip with surprising gentleness. "Here," she said, her voice brimming with pride as she lowered him into the terrarium. "Make yourself at home."
As Max's bare feet touched down on soft, fake grass, he couldn't help doing a double take. The scale of the village was jarring. For the first time since shrinking, he wasn't surrounded by towering furniture or looming giants—and after the events of the last few hours, it gave him a very welcome dose of something like normalcy. He took a tentative step forward, marveling at the tiny lampposts and benches, while Lotte's voice boomed above him.
"The big structures on the north side of the terrarium are dormitories," she explained, pointing as Max started walking around. "The round one in the middle is a dining hall, the other two on the south side are the rec center and the library… they all have functional plumbing and electricity, by the way." Max paused at a tiny fire hydrant, running a hand along its smooth surface as Lotte continued, her voice speeding up with excitement. "The pipes connect to a filtration system I rigged from old lab equipment, and the wiring runs on watch batteries. There's a central heating grid under the streets, and the park benches are 3D-printed to scale. Oh! And the dining hall has a working clock tower!" She adjusted her glasses again. "The rec center's got tiny weights made from paperclips, and the library has actual microprinted books—I used a laser etcher to—"
Pbbbbbt
Before Lotte could get any further into her enthusiastic info-dump, Max was suddenly swamped by a wave of worrisomely familiar stink—and when he looked up, he found Sydney, grinning, leaning butt-first over the edge of his current enclosure. Her shorts strained against her plush thighs as she strained her hips atop the glass, ensuring every last molecule of her gassy assault reached him. The humid, sour cloud enveloped Max completely, attacking his senses even more intensely than before.
"Syd!" Lotte scolded, not sounding particularly surprised. "Really?!"
"Just testing him a little more!" Sydney argued, her cheeks dimpling as she smirked. "Don't act like you're not in here stinking up the joint 24/7!" She stuck her tongue out, then turned around, her cleavage nearly spilling out as she peered down at Max. "Besides, he's fine… right, widdle guy?"
Lotte groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're impossible." She turned toward the terrarium, where Max was still gagging, his tiny frame trembling as he tried to wave away the lingering stench. "Sorry about my associate."
Finally finding a pocket of fart-free air, Max allowed himself a deep breath in. Based on Lotte's tone, she'd given up on reining Sydney in a long time ago.
"The important thing," Lotte continued, adjusting her glasses again with a self-satisfied flick, "is that this is pretty much the safest place for a guy like you at a school like this."
"C-cool," Max coughed, his voice hoarse from the all-out assault on his lungs. The terrarium's details were impressive — the tiny lampposts casting faint glows, the furniture, the fountain — but something gnawed at him. He cleared his throat. "So, uh… where are the others?"
Lotte blinked. "The other what?"
Max's stomach twisted. "The other shrunken guys you've rescued?"
Lotte's smile faltered. "Oh. Well… that’s…”
Before she could respond, the door burst open—revealing a towering Japanese girl with long blue hair, oversized wireframe glasses, and curves that put even Sydney's to shame. Based on what little he'd caught of Sydney's texts a few minutes ago, Max felt safe concluding that this was Akane.
"S-Sorry I'm late!"
Akane's chest heaved as she caught her breath, her massive breasts straining against an oversized turtleneck sweater that did nothing to hide their size. If anything, the way the fabric clung to her sweat-dampened skin only emphasized their absurd proportions. Sweat glistened on her forehead, and the moment her brown eyes landed on Max, they widened behind her fogged-up lenses.
"Oh… oh my gosh," she breathed, her voice trembling. "He's adorable."
"Easy, Akane." Sydney instinctively took a step back toward the terrarium. "He's mine."
Akane flinched, blushing profusely. "O-oh! S-sorry!" She fumbled over her words, her hands fluttering nervously in front of her chest like she didn't know where to put them. A droplet of sweat rolled down her neck and disappeared into the depths of her sweater, and the room's temperature seemed to be rising from her mere presence.
"I'm not sure that's been settled yet, actually." Lotte gestured to the terrarium. "From a technical standpoint, I've got the best setup for him. Fully functional utilities. Reinforced infrastructure. Safety protocols."
"Excuse me?" Sydney scoffed, crossing her arms under her chest in a way that made her cleavage swell even more. "Whatever happened to the 'finders keepers' rule?"
"We got rid of that last semester, remember?" Lotte sighed. "After the birthday cake incident?"
Max shuddered, unsure — and not particularly curious — as to what the two giant girls were talking about. The idea that it involved him was pretty surreal, though. Back at his original size, he'd been lucky if a girl even remembered his name.
"W-well," Akane wrung her hands, her glasses fogging up even more. "Syd got the last two… and Lotte, you had the one before that… Isn't it m-my turn?" Her voice cracked on the last word, her gaze darting between Max and the floor.
The argument escalated quickly, the girls talking over each other, their voices rising in pitch. Max watched, dumbfounded, as Sydney jabbed a finger at Lotte's chest, Lotte countered with a sharp rebuke of her own, and Akane stammered more half-formed protests. It was surreal — three giant women arguing over him like he was the last slice of pizza at a dorm party — and only made Max more painfully aware of just how helpless he was.
Then, another wave of fart wafted down into the terrarium—this one so thick it felt like a physical blow. Max gagged, eyes watering as he looked around for a culprit and noticed Akane leaning absentmindedly against the side of his enclosure with her ass right against the glass. As she shifted her weight, another quiet toot escaped her, the sound dainty but the stench anything but—a humid, fermented punch to the sinuses.
"Ugh!" Unable to contain his discomfort, Max erupted into a coughing fit—just loud enough to make Akane turn around and realize what she'd just put him through.
"O-oh!" Akane gasped, clapping both hands over her mouth. "S-sorry! I-I didn't mean to—"
"Akane, come on," Lotte grumbled, waving a hand over the terrarium that only served to stir up the smell even more around its sole occupant. "You're gonna suffocate him!"
Max dropped to his knees, his lungs burning. Between Sydney and Akane, the air around him was rapidly becoming a biohazard. Then, as Lotte turned around, it got even worse.
BRRRAAAAAPPPP
Lotte's contribution to the terrarium ripped through the room with the force of a deflating air mattress, a deep, bassy blast that rattled all the tiny buildings around Max. The smell hit him like a truck—greasy, pungent, and processed, the kind of stench that could only come from a diet of energy drinks and microwave ramen.
"Oh, gross," Lotte said, wrinkling her nose like she hadn't just gassed out her own miniature town. "Taco Bell strikes again." Turning back to the others, she shrugged. "Where were we?"
Sydney crossed her arms again. "I was saying that I found him."
Lotte's eyes narrowed. "And I was saying that I can take care of him better than either of you."
Akane fidgeted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I really like him, too…"
As three pairs of eyes turned to Max, the tiny freshman gulped. All those years of being invisible, and now he was the center of attention? Of course, it had to happen when he was three inches tall and naked, trapped between a girl who treated him like a toy, another who saw him as a science project, and a third who looked like she might accidentally crush him just by breathing too hard.
Did they expect him to speak up at all here? Or would that just make everything worse?