Sweaty Siberian Amazon

By: maximally

PART 1

Rubbing his eyes and taking another look around, Max immediately got several clues about his current location. To his left was a multilayer trophy case filled with awards. To his right was a wall-mounted flatscreen tuned to ESPN, a bin of rolled-up yoga mats, and a few stray exercise balls. Behind him were several framed jerseys and posters of current pro athletes hanging above three couches covered in gym bags, empty Gatorade bottles, hair ties and energy bar wrappers. Putting all of this together, it didn't take a genius to figure out that he had woken up in House Diana—the sorority known to everyone else at Ventus as the "Jock House."

If the nerds in House Minerva were the smartest students on campus, the goths in House Juno were the scariest, and the e-girls in House Fortuna were the hottest, then the jocks in House Diana were unquestionably the strongest—and, as a direct result of their rigorous athletic and social obligations, among the smelliest. Because every girl in the house was on at least one of Ventus's varsity teams — and spent most of their spare time either working out, partying or hooking up — the place was infamous for its locker-room-like atmosphere. It was also unquestionably the most well-funded and traditionally popular sorority at Ventus—responsible for millions of dollars in annual revenue between athletic sponsorships from current residents and donations from successful alumni.

Realizing where he was, the freshly-shrunken freshman wasn't sure how to feel. While the girls here were renowned for many things, they weren't exactly intellectual powerhouses—not in any way that would help him right now. Still, they were generally much more friendly and good-natured than the average man-hating Juno goth, bratty Fortuna e-girl or feral Proserpina gooner, which gave him some comfort in his chances of not ending up as a snack, sex toy or worse. Even if he couldn't find someone who could figure out how to get him back to normal right off the bat, he was fairly confident that he could run into someone who'd be willing to help him find that sort of person elsewhere on campus. The only question now was who that initial someone might be.
 
Fortunately, or unfortunately, before he could spend any more time trying to game the whole situation out, he heard the door open on the other side of the room—and when he turned around, his jaw dropped.

"Holy cow," Max muttered, staring up at the girl in the doorway with a mix of awe and uncertainty. Just when he was starting to get his head around being three inches tall, the single biggest girl at Ventus was here to make him feel even smaller by comparison.

At 6'8" and 400 pounds, Ursa Kolossovna turned heads wherever she went. Her short, platinum-blonde hair, ice-blue eyes and ghostly pale complexion made her very hard to miss—and her colossal breasts, even more colossal ass, amazonian "strong-fat" figure and striking good looks didn't hurt, either. A running campus joke held that the triple-varsity Russian powerhouse was part polar bear, and as Max tried to process just how big she looked right now, that was the first thing that came into his mind.

Judging by her red sports bra, matching red compression shorts, red high-top powerlifting sneakers, and the strong smell of sweat already following her into the common room, she'd just returned from the fitness center. Max had no clue what had brought her here just now, but he knew he couldn't waste the opportunity to get her attention. Sure, she was one of the most intimidating girls on campus—but there was no telling how long he'd be waiting for another chance at help once she left.

"H-hey!" Even shouting at the top of his lungs, Max had no clue whether his voice would carry to the other side of the room. "Ursa, r-right?"

"Chto za..." When the giant sophomore noticed the three-inch tall freshman on the coffee table, she raised an eyebrow. "A miniatyurnyy?"

Under the full brunt of Ursa's piercing gaze, Max winced. Then, remembering his nakedness, he hurriedly cupped a hand over his groin. "Mini-what?"

"Apology," said Ursa, stepping over to the coffee table. While still feminine and husky, her voice was just as deep and characteristically Slavic as Max had expected. "The English, I am working on. You are a... man-made-small, yes?"

"I... guess so?" Without taking his hands off his groin, Max managed a shrug. "Is that a thing?"

"At home. Toys for the oligarkhi. But never here..." Ursa sat down on the floor beside the coffee table, still leaving her at a considerable height advantage compared to Max. "How you become small?"

"I..." Suddenly just inches away from the Siberian amazon's ample chest, Max felt a familiar stiffness under his hands. "I don't know. I just kinda woke up like this. I guess there was a party here last night?"

"Many people here," said Ursa, nodding. "Very loud."

"You were there?" Saying this, Max hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. So far, the Siberian amazon's subdued reaction to all of this made it hard to tell how much she really cared—although her apparent familiarity with shrunken people seemed like a good sign. "Was I there, too?"

"Nyet. Parties, not for me." She raised both arms over her head for a big stretch and yawned. "I sleep."

As the giant sophomore exposed her pits, the resulting wave of varsity-strength body odor confirmed the other half of her "polar bear" reputation." After spending the first 18 years of her life in Siberia, any temperature north of 60 degrees Fahrenheit tended to leave her seriously sweaty—and in sunny Southern California, that meant she was seriously sweaty 24/7.

"Oh," he said, suppressing the urge to gag. "Gotcha."

Seeing the shrunken freshman's clear distress, Ursa lowered her arms and frowned. "Your name. What is?"

"Me?" Max hesitated. "Max?"

"You say this as question." The Siberian amazon smiled, flashing a row of sharp white teeth. "You are sure?"

"Huh?" By this point, the initial absurdity of this whole situation was starting to wear off a little—enough for Max's usual inability to talk to cute girls to kick back in. "Oh, I... y-yeah."

"You make me laugh." Ursa chuckled. "Like little clown. Or puppy."

"Uh... thanks?" said Max, blushing. While this was far from the nicest thing he'd ever heard from a member of the opposite sex, it seemed like a step in the right direction. "Say, uh... you don't happen to know how I might be able to get back to normal, do you?"

"Oh..." All at once, Ursa's face went somber—her usual facade of reserved coolness giving way to clear sympathy. "Nyet. For Miniatyurnyy, is no cure."

"N-no cure?" Max went white. If Ursa was telling the truth, his life had just changed forever. "Like... nothing?"

"Is not my field," said Ursa, offering a conciliatory shrug. "Maybe in States, is different. But in Rossiya? Nyet."

For a moment, the common room was silent—mostly because Max had no idea what to say. Could he ask Ursa to help him find a way to get him back to normal? She said she liked him, but carrying him around an indeterminate amount of time was a pretty big step up from that.

"Come with me?" Ursa's tone made this more of a command than a question.

"H-huh?" As the Siberian amazon extended a huge hand down toward him, Max flinched. "With you?"

"To be a miniatyurnyy, is hard life." Again, Ursa shrugged. "I look after you."

"I..." Looking up at his would-be guardian's hand, Max found himself nodding. Based on everything this day had already thrown at him, he was hard-pressed to turn down the support of someone this big, powerful, and seemingly good-natured—assuming she meant what she said. "Okay."

Taking a few tentative steps onto Ursa's palm, which seemed big enough to carry half a dozen guys his size, he settled into a sitting position. The skin on her hand was heavily callused, doubtlessly the product of whatever relentless fitness regimen kept her looking the way she did, but still smooth and soft. The experience of being carried so effortlessly by someone so much bigger than him only served to amplify the surreal power imbalance between them.

"Is comfortable?" Cradling her fingers around her three-inch-tall passenger, Ursa stood up. "We go?"

"Yeah, s-sure," said Max, struggling to stay upright as Ursa raised her hand off the table. "Where to?"

"First, my room." Again, Ursa smiled. "Here, I hide you for the walk."

Before the shrunken freshman could ask the Siberian amazon what she meant, she brought him freshman up to her sports bra and stuffed him down into her cleavage—and if Max had thought that Ursa's BO was bad before, the inside of her bra was a completely different story. Smothered between her huge, soft breasts, blanketed in a thick layer of boob sweat, he was instantly overwhelmed by heat, pressure and smell. In the face of all that, the fact that it was also his first time touching a girl's breasts felt like a very small consolation prize.

With her miniatyurnyy secured, Ursa headed out into the hallway and began the walk back to her room. The few housemates she saw on the way greeted her with the usual respectful nod, barely able to conceal their admiration for her raw physical power. When she'd first arrived in the US, she'd relished this sort of silent deference—although she'd come to resent it by the end of her freshman year. Being admired by her peers was one thing, but the way they looked at her sometimes made her feel like a freak.

After quickly distinguishing herself as one of the top athletes at Ventus during her first semester, Ursa had been upgraded from a standard double room to a deluxe single suite. With her own ensuite bathroom, plenty of space to spread out, and no roommate to share it with, the only people on campus with objectively better accommodations were the spoiled rich e-girls in Fortuna. Of course, Ursa wasn't the envious type; compared to her previous "dorm," the bottom bunk at a spartan all-girls sports academy in Yakutsk, the room was everything she could ever want and more.

As Max felt Ursa stepping into her room and heard the door slam behind her, the air got noticeably chillier—and when she pried him out of her bra a second later, he understood why. On top of all the room's existing creature comforts, she'd added a pair of expensive-looking box air conditioners to the windows on the far side of the space. Both were cranked to full blast, creating an environment at least 20 degrees colder than the rest of the dorm. Emerging from the cramped, sweaty confines of the giant sophomore's cleavage was like stepping out of a sauna into the Siberian tundra.

The second thing Max noticed about Ursa's room was the decor, which was far from standard-issue. The walls were covered with fancy-looking pink and white filigree wallpaper and several framed prints of women wearing frilly dresses, and the floor was a similar story—blanketed with several swirling pink carpets and boxes of shoes. Her desk and bedframe looked like the ones in his room, but she'd swapped out her chair for a hot pink swivel stool, and her sheets and pillows were just as stereotypically girly. Beside her desk, a large mannequin dummy — seemingly made to Ursa's exact scale — hosted what looked like a half-made pink ballgown.

"Whoa," said Max. "...what's your major again?"

When Max looked up at Ursa, he found her blushing. "...Fashion design."

Max's eyes went wide. While he wasn't sure what he'd imagined Ursa doing outside of her contributions to the school's sports teams, he wasn't expecting this. "Really?"

"What?" Ursa winced. "Is... bad thing?"

"No!" Frantically waving his hands, Max managed to dislodge a good amount of the boob sweat still clinging to his shrunken form. "Not bad! Really cool!"

"Is nice of you to say," said Ursa, clearly relieved. "Many men here, they see me, they think, big, tough, scary. Is not so much true." She smiled. "Reason I offer to look after you."

Still sitting in the Siberian amazon's hand, Max blushed back. "Me?"

"Da. The way you look at me now. This is not scared. This is, what is the word..." She scowled. "Crush?"

Max swallowed hard, unable to keep his eyes from wandering down to Ursa's formidable thunder thighs. "C-crush?"

"On me." She flashed another sharp-toothed grin. "You have one, yes?"

"I..." Max froze. This was shaping up to be the single weirdest day of his life. While he did find Ursa very attractive, he'd never considered her 'girlfriend material'—mostly because he'd always assumed she was hopelessly out of his league. Now, though, she seemed to be sending him some serious signals to the contrary. "Y-yeah, a little bit."

If Max had been more assertive or naturally charismatic, he might have followed this up by asking if Ursa felt the same way about him. As it was, though, he simply forced a smile and anxiously scratched the back of his head. Witnessing the shrunken 18-year-old virgin's total lack of game in action, his giant rescuer chuckled. "You are funny one. Now, we go again?"

Still a little dazed from the confession Ursa had just coaxed out of him, Max blinked. "Go? Where?"

"Back to fitness center." Stepping over to her desk, the Siberian amazon grabbed a gallon-sized shaker bottle filled with protein powder and whole milk. "I forget shake first time. Ready?"

"Wait!" Feeling Ursa bringing him up to her bra again, Max flinched. A few minutes of close proximity to her sweaty cleavage had been bad enough, but he couldn't imagine being stuck in there for a full gym set. "D-do I have to go back in your bra?"

"Something wrong?" Ursa frowned. "You are not, how you say, 'tits man'?"

Max blushed redder than ever. "W-well, uh..."

"Is no problem," said Ursa, grinning. "I joke. I know what you want."

Once again, before Max could ask her for any clarification, she was already moving him—this time, behind her back toward the waistband of her compression shorts.

"W-wait!" Max stammered, eyes wide at the sight of the giant sophomore's equally giant booty. "Ursa! I-"

"You are excited, da?" Ursa chuckled. "Good. Almost there." A second later, the Siberian amazon gave the shrunken freshman his wish — or at least, what she assumed he was wishing for — pulling her shorts back with one hand and sliding her new friend's three-inch-tall form in head-first with the other. All at once, Max was sealed into yet another hot, dark, foul-smelling crevice—and this one was even hotter, darker and more foul than the last.

"Much better, this," said Ursa, clenching her cheeks around her tiny passenger. "Is nice feeling?"

Beneath her, Max was too muffled by her all-powerful rump to reply. More than anything else, he was just surprised that the giant sophomore's powerful haunches hadn't already crushed him into dust. Hopefully, he thought, he'd made it through her workout alive.

Stepping out of her room to begin the short trip over to the fitness center, Ursa uncapped her shaker bottle and chugged down her breakfast. The intense caloric demands of her triple-varsity lifestyle frequently saw her go through four to five of these shakes daily, on top of regular meals. The only downside of this regimen was that it tended to leave her feeling pretty gassy—although that was less of a problem for her than for anyone who happened to be in smelling distance.

Meanwhile, with every step she took, her shrunken passenger found himself forced further and further into her ass. In a matter of minutes, he quickly went from the top of her crack to the very core—and by the time she reached the fitness center, he was pressed right up against her enormous asshole. It was easily twice as wide as he was and just as sweaty and grimy as the rest of her crack.

Feeling Max's face brushing against one of the most sensitive parts of her body, Ursa couldn't help biting her lip. She still couldn't believe she'd stumbled across a real-life miniatyurnyy. Back in Russia, guys like him were exclusively the purview of the spoiled daughters and bored housewives of the very, very rich—and while she wasn't one for hollow status symbols, finding one in the wild was like finding an unlocked Mercedes with the keys in the glove box. It made her wonder how he'd ended up in her common room and who had shrunk him in the first place. Not that she'd have any trouble holding her own against whoever it was, she thought smugly.

BBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP

As Ursa's first shake of the day began to work its magic on her digestive system, a huge fart thundered out of her ass and straight into her shrunken passenger's face.

Max had no illusions about the kinds of smells that a girl Ursa's size could probably create—but if the smell of her sweat was bad, the smell of her gas was downright apocalyptic. It was the single most rancid thing he'd ever had to breathe, and after just a few lungfuls, he felt like he was on the verge of vomiting or blacking out. Worse, because he still remained trapped between her powerful cheeks, there was nothing he could do but keep breathing it.

When Ursa arrived in the weight room, the few guys and girls working out took their cue and left. While she had never explicitly asked any of them to let her work out by herself, they all knew that the eggy aroma that wafted in with her would only get worse from here—and none of them wanted to end their workouts by throwing up or passing out. Satisfied with this sudden exodus, the Siberian amazon stepped over to the squat rack and loaded 250 pounds onto the bar. Then she pulled her AirPods out of her pocket, cued up her usual gym playlist of girly Russian pop music, cracked her knuckles and set to work.

For Max, the next twenty minutes felt like ten hours. As Ursa pressed through her workout, effortlessly squatting an Olympic quantity of weight over her head over and over, all he could do was try to breathe as much relatively clean air as he could between her frequent farts—which only seemed to be getting bigger, smellier, and more constant with time.

PPPPRRRRRTTTTTTTT

PPPPFFFFFFFFRRRRRTTTTTTTT

PPPPFFFFFFFFFFFOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTT

Whenever the giant Russian sophomore passed gas, Max was forced deeper and deeper into a fart-fueled delirium—and when she finally stepped away from the squat rack, he'd been breathing almost nothing but her fumes for at least several minutes straight. His mind was reeling, his vision was hazy, and his few thoughts were very fuzzy. Part of him was really starting to wonder how he was still alive—and if whatever he'd been dosed with last night had anything to do with it.

"You are alright, Max?" Feeling the shrunken freshman still struggling against her asshole, Ursa smiled. "Everything is good?"

Of course, Max still had no way of communicating with her beyond his simple movements—and as he continued his struggles, he unintentionally gave her the "yes" she'd been looking for.

"Good," she said, stepping over to the weight rack. "Now, arms."

It quickly became clear to Max that the weight rack would be even worse for him than squats. Now, seated on a bench, curling two 50-pound dumbbells like they were training weights, the huge Siberian amazon was giving her shrunken passenger a lot less breathing room than before—and all the sweat on her massive, curvy body had nowhere to go but down into her crack. Soon, the only breaks he got from the struggle to avoid drowning were her farts, which were now at full protein shake strength.

BRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP

BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

BRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTT

By now, Max was coated head to toe in a mix of sweat and butt funk. His sense of smell was irreparably broken, and it felt like he was starting to experience the symptoms of heat exhaustion. Ursa's ass was one big pressure cooker—and the only refreshing breezes he got were just as hot and humid as the rest of her. Though he didn't know it yet, his only possible solace was that her workout was technically almost done.

For the final chunk of her usual morning routine, Ursa stepped over to the treadmill, an industrial-grade machine with reinforced treads designed to accommodate the unique needs of Ventus's numerous "big and tall" students. While she loathed cardio as much as the next strong-fat powerlifter, her wrestling coach had been on her all semester about getting more of it into her exercise regimen. Today, she would finally give her what she wanted—ten miles, nonstop, full speed.

If the previous two-thirds of her workout had been sweaty, the subsequent hour and a half of cardio was something else entirely. Down in Ursa's ass, Max was inundated with more BO than ever before—and just as many farts. Shaken back and forth with every stride of the Siberian sophomore's powerful legs, he felt like he was trapped in some kind of colossal, stinky earthquake—and he knew that the only way out of it was to hold on for dear life.

PPPPFOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTT

PPPPPPFFFOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRRTTTTTTT

PPPPPPPFFFFFOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTT

When Ursa finally hit her cooldown lap, Max was barely clinging to consciousness—and when she finally pulled him out a few minutes later, the light of the outside world was so bright that he had to squint for several seconds.

"Ukh ty!" Holding Max up to her face, Ursa wrinkled her nose and laughed. "You stink like toilet!"

Struggling to form a coherent response, especially with a cute girl like Ursa giggling in his face, Max forced a smile. "T-thanks?"

"Not compliment." Ursa grinned. "But I put you back."

Gathering just enough brainpower to register what this meant, Max started to panic—just when he thought he was finally free of Ursa's rump, she thought he wanted to go back in! "Wait. No!"

"Give joke a rest," Ursa chuckled. "Is getting old. I know you like." Ignoring her shrunken passenger's subsequent protests, she brought her hand back and returned him to his place between her cheeks, jostling her shorts up to secure him into position and giving him another playful clench. "Much better. Now... is time for shower."


PART 2

While Ursa usually ended her workouts by getting washed up in the fitness center's showers, she decided that the one in her room would be more than sufficient today—mostly because she didn't want to risk anyone getting a glimpse of the three-inch-tall freshman in her shorts. After wiping down the equipment she'd used in the weight room and taking out her AirPods, she took a final sip of her shake and headed outside.

It was an exceptionally warm and sunny day in San Trasero — frustratingly so, for Ursa's cold-loving Siberian temperament — and everyone at Ventus seemed to be outside making the most of it. This was just as much of a culture shock for the giant Russian sophomore, who was still getting used to being around so many lighthearted, happy young people all the time—especially boys her own age. There had never been room for anything like that back home, what with her training.

As she started walking back to her dorm, the shrunken freshman in her ass got another uninterrupted stink marathon. On the heels of her workout, especially the burst of cardio at the end, her powerful rump was even sweatier and smellier than ever, and her first shake of the day was still wreaking its usual dose of havoc on her digestive system. If that wasn't bad enough, the movement of her legs proved to be more than enough to drag him back down into the depths of her crack.

Halfway across the quad in the center of campus, the Siberian amazon came across a trio of petite freshman girls having brunch—which seemed to be less about eating and drinking and more about taking videos of their immaculate picnic blanket spread for TikTok. Their immaculate skin, hair, makeup and visibly expensive clothes easily identified them as members of House Fortuna, and the ringleader of the bunch was instantly familiar to Ursa—and not in a good way.

"Ugh," the perky blonde whispered, "hold your nose; here comes Polar Butt." While this was inaudible to Ursa, the smug expression on the freshman's face and the way she leaned over to whisper to her friends made it clear that she was talking shit—and it made her subsequent greeting feel even more disingenuous. "Ursa! Hey girl, looking great!"

Hearing this, the Siberian amazon resisted the urge to sigh. If the comparatively pint-sized blonde's smile wasn't fake enough, the emphasis she'd put on 'great' made it abundantly clear how she really felt. "Good morning, Crystal."

For the most part, Ursa was really enjoying her time at Ventus. Her housemates in Diana were warm and welcoming, she got a lot of satisfaction out of her time on the football field, track and wrestling mat, and she was relishing the opportunity to pursue her passion for fashion design away from her overbearing mother and older sister. The only aspect of the whole experience that she didn't enjoy was the way that some students seemed to treat her like some kind of monster — a big, smelly barbarian to be held at arm's length whenever she wasn't needed to score points in some pivotal sports game — and no one exemplified that view more than her bratty Intro to Marketing classmate, Crystal West.

Ursa wasn't sure what she'd done to provoke the painfully fake Fortunan's ire, but she had a feeling that Crystal was the source of several recent unflattering rumors that had started circulating on campus—namely, the story of her sending several of her male classmates to the hospital with shattered pelvises. As much as some part of her enjoyed that story, and the half-scared-half-aroused looks that some male undergrads had started giving her since it had started going around, she didn't like the idea of some snobby popular girl trying to smear her for no good reason. At the same time, though, she knew she couldn't call Crystal out for this without looking totally insecure. Luckily, she had plenty of other ways of getting back at her.

"Have nice day." Brushing past the gaggle of Fortunans, Ursa pressed on toward House Diana—but not before silently crop-dusting the entire group with one last massive protein shake fart.

pppfffooooooooooottttttttt

As usual, the Siberian amazon's gas was much worse for Max than anyone else—although from the way the stuck-up girls behind her reacted, they hadn't exactly gotten off easy.

"Crys," gagged one of the blonde freshman's friends, dropping her phone on their perfectly-composed charcuterie board, "what the fuck, was that you?"

"What? Of course not!" Crystal coughed. "Ugh, fuck, I can taste that!"

As the trio of petite freshmen quickly devolved into an argument over who was to blame, Ursa smirked and kept walking. She wasn't usually one to stoop to tactics this petty—but if it was a war that Crystal wanted, she was more than happy to give it to her.

When she got back to her room, after locking the door and rinsing out her shaker bottle, she stripped off her clothes and headed straight into the shower. Somehow, through the sheer size and density of her butt, Max remained thoroughly wedged into her crack through this entire process. The only thing that could dislodge him were Ursa's own two hands, which came back to pry him out once she'd gotten situated in the stall.

Seeing the shrunken freshman's dazed expression, and the way his eyes remained fixed on her huge, ghostly pale breasts, Ursa grinned. "You like what you see?"

"H-huh?" As Max's brain slowly turned back on and he realized what his giant guardian meant, he blushed. "Oh! I... y-yeah, I... yeah."

Ursa chuckled. After her unpleasant run-in with Crystal, Max's current wide-eyed expression was an undeniable confidence boost. "You are funny. I use you to wash now."

Without another word, she brought the three-inch-tall freshman down to her legs and started scrubbing. The walk back from her workout had left her sweatier than ever, and as she worked him over her thighs, calves, and feet, Max could feel the grime sloughing off her firm, toned skin. It was all he could do to keep his mouth closed, to make sure he didn't swallow any of it.

"You are foot man?" Threading him between her toes, Ursa grinned again. "Maybe next run, I put you in sock?"

"Oh, uh..." While Max wasn't opposed to feet, and Ursa's weren't bad-looking by any means, they weren't his favorite part of the body by any stretch. "N-not really, but-"

"I joke," said Ursa, bringing him up to her huge, sweaty rump. "You are ass man. Is clear."

Before Max had any opportunity to rid her of that impression, she pressed him back into the crack where he'd spent most of her workout—and started vigorously scrubbing him against her huge, slimy asshole.

BBBBBRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPP

"Heh," chuckled Ursa, "apology. Protein shakes, they make the, how you say..."

BBBBBBBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP

"Indigestion." She sighed. "Is good to feel, letting them out. You like?"

Behind her, Max was mainly focused on keeping his mouth shut—and again, Ursa took his silence as agreement.

"Is no need for shyness. I understand. Is weird." She smiled. "But is okay with me."

BBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

Once Ursa deemed her ass sufficiently clean, she moved her tiny human sweat rag up to her armpits. While they smelled a lot better than the depths of her crack, that really wasn't saying much for Max—and after another several minutes of scrubbing, followed by a thorough once-over of her huge breasts and ample cleavage, he felt closer to passing out than ever before. When she finally drew him away, he assumed he was destined for another sweaty orifice. Instead, he found himself being set down on her soap tray as the hulking she-giant began to wash her equally giant, hairy pussy.

"This one, I do myself," said Ursa. While Max's vision was still somewhat blurry from everything she'd put him through so far today, it almost looked like she was blushing again. "Very sensitive."

Staring at Ursa's colossal sex, Max couldn't help feeling some deep-set, primal sensation of male inadequacy. It was the single biggest vagina he'd ever seen, even counting his years of watching porn. If he'd still been normal-sized and the two of them had somehow hooked up, it looked like he'd barely be able to get a third of the way in.

"Maybe someday, you play cards right, I put you in here." After all the smug teasing Ursa had put him through today, this seemed like the one subject where she seemed genuinely a little uncomfortable. "But not soon. We only just meet."

"Y-yeah," said Max, shivering as he tried to imagine what that might feel like. "S-sounds good."

When Ursa finished washing up, she shut off the water and started drying off—a job that could only be accomplished with the help of three full-sized towels. While this was happening, Max had an unrestricted view of her huge, naked curves. Every inch of her powerful, voluptuous body looked like it could crush him flat without a second thought—and as she met his eyes and smirked a little at his visible arousal, he felt thankful that she hadn't done so already.

"Is rude to stare," said Ursa, giving her short white hair a good scrub with her third towel. "You know?"

"S-stare?" Max froze. "I-I'm really sorry, I didn't-"

"Is fine." Ursa flashed another sharp-toothed grin. "More joke."

Once every inch of her 6'10, 400-pound figure was dry, the Siberian amazon carefully picked Max up from the soap tray and stepped back into the bedroom... just in time to register that someone was knocking on her door.
"Yo, Ursa!" The voice behind the door was strong, husky, yet upbeat and feminine. "You up?"

"Morning, Min." Protectively drawing Max to her chest, Ursa raised her voice to respond. "Moment, please."

Down in Ursa's hand, Max perked up. Unless he was mistaken, the girl behind the door was Min Zhao—the pride of Ventus's wrestling team and the only girl on campus who gave Ursa any competition in the size and strength departments. "Is that..."

"Min," whispered Ursa. "Neighbor, across hall. And friend, I suppose. I put you back in ass now. For safety."

"O-oh," stammered Max, eyeing his new guardian's formidable hips. On the one hand, he understood Ursa's reluctance about adding another person into whatever situation he'd woken up to. On the other hand, he wasn't exactly keen to spend any more time trapped in the Siberian amazon's ass. "I... okay. You don't trust her around me?"

"She is, how you say..." Ursa frowned. "Wild card. Better safe than sorry."

"Hmm," said Max, scanning around the room for alternative hiding places. "Maybe..."

"No maybe," said Ursa, unceremoniously stuffing her shrunken friend back down between her cheeks. "We talk later."

Buried in the huge jock's cavernous ass, Max didn't have much room to protest—and as Ursa stepped over to open the door, he was subjected to the now-familiar sensation of her immense buttocks grinding against him like a pair of impossibly soft mountains. It wasn't exactly the most pleasant experience, especially paired with the formidable smell radiating from her asshole even after a shower. Still, there was something strangely comforting about being so thoroughly sequestered away from the big, scary outside world.

When Ursa opened the door, Min smiled. While the 6'7", 360-pound Chinese junior was still a tad shorter than her 6'8", 400-pound Russian neighbor, she was still more than a match in confidence. Her big green eyes were bright and full of energy, her short black buzz cut looked freshly washed, and her usual black yoga pants and green tank top were as flatteringly tight as ever. "Sup, girl? I didn't see you around here last night."

"Oh, da," said Ursa, nodding. "Too many people. Much noise."

"C'mon, dude!" Rolling her eyes, Min gave her neighbor's shoulder a playful punch. "We're not just here to study, y'know."

"Da." Ursa forced a smile. While most of the girls in her dorm treated her with a sort of distanced respect, Min seemed dead set on befriending her—and she was still getting used to that kind of attention. "Next time, maybe."

"Funny you should say that," said Min, grinning. "'Cause tonight's the big fall kegger."

"Oh, kegger." Ursa sighed. Of all the events that dotted the House Diana social calendar, their seasonal keg parties were her least favorite—since they were always the loudest, the lewdest, and the most likely to spill over into the rooms around hers. "I forgot."

"Sure you did." Min chuckled. "I'm guessing you forgot there's gonna be a DJ this time? And a dance floor?"

"Da?" Ursa raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Look, all I'm saying is, I've seen you in the gym." Min allowed her eyes to wander down to her neighbor's amazonian curves just long enough for Ursa to notice. "And I know you know how to move that thing."

"That..." Ursa scowled. "Thing?"

"That booty, girl!" Min giggled, giving her own hips a little shake to demonstrate.

Hearing this, Max swallowed hard. If being stuck in Ursa's ass during one of her workouts had been bad, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to be wedged between her cheeks while she was dancing.

"Oh!" Ursa blushed. Even though she was well aware of the effect she had on some guys and girls, she was still unaccustomed to thinking of herself as a sexual being—and the thought of shaking her rump in front of a bunch of strangers made her genuinely anxious in a way she rarely ever was. "...I let you know."

"That's what you said last time." Min shook her head. "Anyway, you eat yet?"

"Eat?" Ursa shrugged, eager to move the conversation away from her booty. "Only shake, so far. But..."

"Perfect!" Min grabbed Ursa's hand and attempted to pull her forward, failing to budge the Siberian amazon one inch. "I'm about to hit the DH. You wanna come with?"

Feeling Max's struggles intensifying in the back of her shorts, Ursa hesitated. "Oh. I... not sure."

"You're not sure?" Min squinted a little. As another of Ventus's top athletes, she was well aware of the intense dietary requirements that peak performance demanded. Most days, girls like her and Ursa logged at least three trips to the dining hall—and more like four or five before pivotal matches and games. It was one of the reasons why her go-to method of hanging out with her neighbor was proposing a meal together, knowing she rarely said no. "You good, dude? You seem kinda... off today."

"Me?" Ursa's blush deepened. "No, is good! We go now."

Down in the Siberian amazon's ass, Max groaned. Once again, he appeared to be along for the ride.

***

Thanks to House Diana's central position on campus, the walk to the dining hall only took a few minutes. Within ten, Ursa and Min were situated at their normal table beside the cafeteria entrance—a position they staked out to minimize the distance needed to refill their trays, which they always did. Digging into plates piled high with beans, eggs, bacon, toast and oatmeal, washing it all down with more protein shakes and coffee, the twin amazons began scarfing down several thousand calories worth of food like it was nothing.

While this was happening, Max remained trapped in Ursa's ass—which had only gotten smellier and sweatier once she left her ice-cold dorm room. Worse, he could already hear her digestive system starting to process the avalanche of gas-inducing food she was taking in. From his shrunken perspective, pressed up against her colossal asshole like some kind of insignificant bug, it sounded like the biggest, most ominous thunderstorm he'd ever heard.

ppfffooooooottttt

As Ursa's pucker relaxed, a small gust of rancid air gave the shrunken freshman a preview of things to come. This fart was just as bad as all the rest he'd smelled so far today, although he seemed to be building up something of a tolerance to the Siberian amazon's various odors after so much consistent exposure. He had a feeling that was the only thing keeping him from passing out right now.

"Random question," said Min, teeing up a spoonful of eggs and beans and shoveling it into her mouth. "You're not seeing anyone right now, are you?"

"Nyet," said Ursa, trying to ignore the way Max was struggling against her latest fart. "Why you ask?"

"Huh?" Now it was Min's turn to blush. While the amazonian Chinese junior had quickly established herself as one of the most sought-after tops in Ventus's vibrant queer femme scene thanks to her huge stature and take-charge demeanor, she'd always craved a partner who was big and strong enough to dominate her the way she dominated everyone else—and the second she'd first laid eyes on Ursa last year, she'd been hopelessly smitten. For some reason, though, every time she got close to breaching the subject with the Siberian amazon in any detail, all her usual confident charm fell apart.

"Whether I am single." Ursa looked up from her plate. "Why you ask?"

"Just curious," said Min, still blushing. "I guess I figured, girl like you, big, strong, sexy..." Scanning around the room, it was hard for her not to notice the way several nearby tables of guys — and girls — were eyeing the two of them. "You've probably got your pick of guys around here, yeah?"

"I see the way they look at me. More scared than horny." Ursa pursed her lips. "Not a good feeling, most times."

"Trust me," said Min, "I get it. Most of the girls I get with just want me to do the whole big dommy amazon thing... which, like, y'know. I'm into it. But it gets kinda old. Y'know?"

"Da," said Ursa, not really knowing what her neighbor was talking about but not wanting to let on as much. For all the light fooling around she'd done with classmates at her all-girls high school, she was still technically a virgin. "Is hard to have balance, in relationship like that."

"It's a shame you don't like girls." Min forced a laugh. "Heh, like... imagine if we got together. How crazy would that be?"

"Ha." Ursa offered a chuckle of her own, much less forced. "How you say... power couple."

"Exactly!" Min nodded eagerly. "But... you don't like girls. Right?"

"Boys and girls. And others." Ursa shrugged. "Is all same to me."

"C-cool!" Min stammered, redder than ever. "Listen, uh... I know we were talking about that kegger later. Would you wanna go... like, together?"

Still listening in from his perch in the Russian sophomore's crack, Max gulped. He had no clue how his giant guardian might respond to this offer, and he wasn't sure which option would be better for him. Some part of him felt oddly threatened by the idea of Min coming in and competing for his new guardian's attention—but another part of him wouldn't mind having another person in the mix to balance out the Siberian amazon's idiosyncrasies.

"To party," said Ursa, trying to make sure she understood what her neighbor was saying. "...As girl-and-girl?"

Min smiled. "Yeah!"

"Oh!" Again, Ursa blushed.

Turning over Min's offer in her head, Ursa couldn't help smiling. It had been a very, very long time since anyone had ever asked her out—and her neighbor was pretty far from bad-looking. "Sure," she said, finally. "Why not?"

prrrrtttttt

Before the three-inch tall freshman in Ursa's ass had any time to react to this answer, her asshole gave him something far more pressing to focus on—another rancid SBD that washed over his face with a predictable blast of stink.

"Y-yeah?" As Min processed that her Russian neighbor was actually interested in her, all the anxiety in her body language seemed to evaporate in a matter of seconds. "I mean, yeah! Cool!"

"And then later," said Ursa, just to confirm that there wasn't anything getting lost in translation, "sex, yes?"

Hearing this, Min nearly spit out a mouthful of protein shake. Based on Ursa's strangely matter-of-fact tone, it was like she'd just asked if they were going to carpool somewhere. "I... maybe? I mean, I'd like to, but only if-"

"No," said Ursa, "Is good. I would like." While she was doing a good job keeping up her usual facade of detached coolness, inside, she was just as tightly wound as Min. She was just a lot better at hiding it. The truth was, she'd always found her neighbor a lot more desirable than any of the slight, scrawny American girls that filled her classes—and the idea of bedding her later was already making her get quite worked up.

"C-cool," said Min, trying to steady herself with a few deep breaths and hoping none of her dorm mates could see her right now. "Sounds good. Anyway, uh... what were we talking about before this?"

Ursa shrugged. "Team?"

"Yeah!" Eager to shift the subject, Min grinned. "The team, yeah. So for the meet next Saturday..."

As the two amazons resumed talking about the various goings-on related to the varsity wrestling team, Max leaned back and tried to get a few moments of rest. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Ursa's breakfast started affecting her digestive system in earnest, and he figured he might as well use this brief calm before the storm to relax a little. Somehow, just a few hours into life at three inches tall, this was how he was starting to think about things.


PART 3

After two more heaping plates of food, Min and Ursa parted ways—the former off to the gym for her midday workout, and the latter back to the dorm. By the time the Siberian amazon finally got into her room, closed the door and peeled her shrunken new friend out of her ass, he was completely coated in sweat.

"Apology," said Ursa, smirking. "The temperature here. Not my usual. Very warm."

"I can tell," said Max, wiping his face to keep the sweat from getting in his mouth as he spoke. "So, uh... Min, huh?"

"What?" Ursa raised an eyebrow. "You have problem, with girl-and-girl?"

"Huh?" Realizing what Ursa was implying, Max panicked. "N-no! I just..."

"You want me all for you?" Ursa's smirk became a grin. "Do not worry, miniaturnyy. I still look after you."

"T-thanks," said Max. While this wasn't what he'd been trying to ask, it was still reassuring to hear. "What I meant was, like, you like her?"

"Da," said Ursa, shrugging. "She is funny, nice... how you say, "thick.""

"Very," said Max, smiling in spite of himself.

Seeing the look on her shrunken friend's face, Ursa smiled back. "I do not need to worry, nyet?"

Unsure what the Siberian amazon was implying, Max dropped his smile. "Huh?"

"Competition?" Ursa's smile grew. "From Min? For you?"

"Me?" For some reason, Max found himself blushing. "No! Of course not! I mean..." He winced. "You're not going to... tell her about me, right?"

"Hard not to," said Ursa, settling down on her bed and placing her shrunken friend on her nightstand. "Unless I keep you in my ass?"

"Oh," said Max, swallowing hard. "I, uh... maybe not?"

"You are bad liar. Is funny." Ursa shook her head, smirk returning. "You worry about her, seeing you like this?"

"I dunno," said Max, crossing his arms. "I just... it's... if you show me to her, and she's not happy about it, I feel like that could go kinda... badly."

Again, Ursa shrugged. "I protect you."

Hearing how confidently the Siberian amazon said this, Max couldn't help believing her. "Thanks."

***

Compared to Max's first few hours of life at three inches tall, the rest of the afternoon was mercifully uneventful. With her big workout and primary daily meal complete, Ursa spent most of the next several hours sitting in bed, reading fashion magazines and watching old runway shows on her laptop. Based on the number of times she directed Max's attention to this or that design detail of a given piece of clothing, or the way a designer chose to showcase something, her passion for fashion was more or less irrepressible—and the shrunken freshman got the impression that she was glad to finally have someone to infodump about it to. The only unpleasant part of the whole experience was her incessant gas, a byproduct of both her breakfast and the several shakes she had throughout the rest of the day to round out her calorie intake.

By 8:00 PM, after enduring another heavy-duty meal in the dining hall back in Ursa's underwear and another shower in her bathroom back in the dorm, Max was back on the Siberian amazon's nightstand, watching as she tried on a variety of outfits in her closet.

"Is good?" Holding up her sixth or seventh frilly pink dress for Max's input, Ursa looked genuinely uncertain—especially with a thick layer of eyeliner, makeup and lipstick accenting her already-striking features. She wasn't often one to get dolled up like this, and it made for an even bigger departure from her usual aesthetic.

"I think so," said Max, shrugging. "You don't?"

Ursa sighed. "Is my first party in long time. Good impression, very key."

"I mean..." Getting dangerously close to a comment that could be construed as flirting, Max's inner lack of game made him start stuttering. "I-I think you look good in, uh, like, pretty much anything."

"Spare me flattery." Ursa rolled her eyes, a sliver of a smile creeping back onto her face. "You are not looking at clothes. Past fifteen minutes, you only look at my ass."

"I... well, y-yeah," said Max, blushing in spite of himself.

"Perhaps I let you in early." Stepping over to the nightstand, Ursa carefully plucked up her shrunken friend and slipped him under the folds of her dress—where, even without underwear, her huge cheeks held him firmly in place. "Better, da?"

"S-sure," said Max. While he'd been hoping to remain out of Ursa's rump for as long as possible prior to the party, he had a feeling the subject wasn't worth pushing.

***

Twenty minutes later, Ursa was headed toward House Diana's multipurpose room — a large space on the western side of the house that existed almost solely as a function space for the sorority's legendary keg parties — and when she stepped inside, the festivities seemed to be in full swing. At least several hundred people were present, the music was blasting, the air smelled like cannabis, and she quickly recognized several familiar faces in the crowd. One in particular quickly met her eyes and started moving her way.
"Ursa!" Catching the Siberian amazon's eye, Min beamed. "Damn, girl, you look great!"

"Oh, spasiba." Looking down at her pink frilly sun dress, Ursa blushed. "Is nothing, really."

"Doesn't look like nothing." Easily brushing past a half-dozen other, smaller partygoers, the Chinese junior stepped up to her similarly-bulky neighbor and grinned. "Then again, I guess I've never seen you not wearing workout gear."

"Heh," chuckled Ursa, blushing redder than ever. "Maybe is true. You, also, looking nice. Like Juno girl."

"What, this?" Min scoffed, brushing a stray hair off her tight green crop top. Between this, her acid-washed black jeans and black boots, and the black leather choker around her neck, she did indeed look the part of a Goth House goth. "Thanks. Figured it'd be better than yoga pants. Anyway... you wanna grab a drink?"

"Da," said Ursa, already more than a little stressed out by how many people were here. "We go?"

The bar on the other side of the room was packed with eager guests—but the 6'8" sophomore and 6'7" junior had no trouble parting the sea and getting served right away. As the two biggest girls on campus, they were used to having the world move around them—and most people in line seemed to accept that. All except for one.

"This is bullshit," scoffed a scrawny male freshman behind them, eyeing the two amazons and nudging his friends. "We've been waiting, like, five minutes, but these two friggin' landwhales just barge in and get served right away?"

"Excuse me?" When Min turned around, her usual carefree demeanor was replaced with something much harder and sharper. "What did you just call us?"

"Min," sighed Ursa, "is fine."

"No," said Min, winking at Ursa before returning her attention to her new target. "It's not."

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, visibly shaking. "I didn't mean it."

"Sure sounded like you did." Seeing just how scared the scrawny young man already was, Min grinned. "But you know what? You're right. You've been waiting in this line a long time. Maybe I can give you something to tide you over."

Before the terrified freshman could ask what the amazonian junior meant, she grabbed the back of his head and dragged him around behind her—pressing his face right against her colossal rump. Watching this happen, well aware of what was about to follow, Ursa couldn't help smiling. On the wrestling team, her neighbor was infamous for her love of finishing off opponents with a well-timed "stink face."

PRRRRTTTTTTTTTTT

As Min felt the helpless young man's nose make contact with her asshole, a huge, five-second fart exploded out of her ass—knocking the struggling freshman out cold. When she released her grip on the back of his head, he fell to the ground like a bag of stinky bricks.

"Typical," she scoffed, stepping back over to Ursa and leaving the unlucky young man's friend to tend to him. "Can you believe some girls are into that?"

Still eyeing the motionless freshman, Ursa shrugged. "Into what?"

"What do you think?" Min rolled her eyes. "Men."

"Oh," said Ursa, chuckling.

Hearing this, still trapped in the Siberian amazon's ass, Max shuddered. If his giant guardian planned to eventually reveal him to her party date, this wasn't a promising sign.

***

The next two hours passed quickly, with both giant girls slamming back several dozen strong drinks and sharing stories. Min regaled Ursa with tales of her latest sexual conquests — a snobby redhead from Fortuna, a bratty goth from Juno, and a virginal nerd from Minerva — and Ursa responded with a few eye-opening anecdotes about her Russian adolescence. She was usually fairly taciturn about her past, but the copious quantity of vodka she was downing did a good job of opening her up.

"And then, after tenth time I clog toilet," said Ursa, coming to the end of one such story and laughing, "schoolmistress says, I use outhouse from now on!"

"...So you had to shit outside?" Listening to all of this, Min was in disbelief. The rugged, unforgiving conditions of Ursa's upbringing were hard for her to get her head around—and only made the Siberian amazon seem even hotter.

"Only in summer." Ursa shrugged. "In winter, too cold. Even for me."

"Brutal," giggled Min.

Meanwhile, Max remained in the back of the Siberian amazon's underwear, absorbing her frequent farts and trying not to drown in butt sweat. While this wasn't how he'd imagined his second-ever college party would go, so far, it was a lot better than the first. This time, for better or worse, he knew he'd end the night right where he started. Sure, he wasn't out and mingling, meeting people and making friends, but he also didn't have to worry about anyone spiking his drink again—and after the several minutes of existential terror he'd gone through before falling into Ursa's hands, that felt pretty good.

BRRRRRAAAAAAAAPPPPP

Feeling her shrunken friend starting to squirm in the wake of her latest fart, Ursa bit her lip. Seeing this, Min narrowed her eyes. "You good, dude?"

"Eh? Me?" Clenching her cheeks to still Max's motion, Ursa shrugged. "Da, why you ask?"

"I dunno," said Min, smiling. "You just looked kinda... pent up for a second there."

"Pent... up?" Ursa frowned. "What is?"

"Y'know." Getting dangerously close to flirting with Ursa again, Min found herself blushing. "Like... horny."

"Oh!" Ursa smiled. Of course, deep down, she was just as anxious as Min about what was about to happen—and had been looking forward to this moment ever since they'd agreed to meet up here this afternoon. "Well, now you mention..."

***
By the time the two horny amazons had made it back to their corner of the dorm, they were both practically vibrating with excitement—and the second they made it into Min's room, they were all over each other. As they frantically tore off their clothes and spilled onto the Chinese junior's bed, it was all Max could do to keep from falling out of his perch in Ursa's ass—though her colossal cheeks did as good a job as ever keeping him in place.

In the brief moments that Ursa wasn't tongue-locked to Min, she couldn't help noticing just how much her neighbor's room clashed with hers. The wallpaper and carpeting were black; the decorations held an invariably harsh, punk aesthetic, and — most dissonant for her purposes — the AC was cranked to a steamy 80 degrees.

"Is hot in here," she murmured, pulling herself away from Min to wipe sweat from her brow.

"'So take off all your clothes~'," said Min, doing a sort of low-effort sing-song voice.

"No," said Ursa, "I mean, the air."

"Ohhh," Min giggled. "Yeah, sorry, I keep it kinda warm in here. Reminds me of home."

Ursa raised an eyebrow. "It is like this, in your home?"

"You ever been to Hong Kong?" Min scoffed. "This is, like, average."

"How horrible," said Ursa, shaking her head.

"Says the polar bear," giggled Min. "Now, you wanna lay back for me?"

Not needing to be told twice, Ursa scooched herself up into a sitting position in Min's bed, leaving her huge, hairy, and very sweaty pussy on full display. As she parted her legs, it almost looked like it was steaming.

"That's what I'm talking about," said Min, licking her lips before kneeling down and getting to work.

"Mmm," grunted Ursa, reflexively putting a hand to her chest and tweaking one of her nipples. While she'd never been eaten out before, Min was clearly very good at this. Her big, strong, hungry tongue locked onto her clit like a heat-seeking missile—and once it got down there, it didn't stop going.

As Ursa quickly found herself approaching the biggest and best orgasm of her life, Min wasn't far behind. With one hand on her lover's hip and another vigorously rubbing her own clit, she was loving every second of this. She'd eaten girls out before, but to be kneeling before a girl like Ursa, feeling the raw power of her legs tensing against her head as she tended to her needs, was something else entirely.

While this was happening, Max was sandwiched more firmly than ever under Ursa's ass, held down by several hundred pounds of pressure—and the added weight of the other huge amazon going to town on top of her. Despite the intense smell, weight, and heat bearing down on him, he was definitely enjoying himself. If it could be said to "count," this was not only his first time, but also technically his first threesome. Feeling Min speeding up on top of Ursa, and then feeling Ursa's legs and glutes starting to tense, he knew it was only a matter of time before they both came.

pfffooooootttttt

In the heat of a leg-shaking, toe-curling climax, Ursa was powerless to keep a comparatively-tiny fart from slipping out—right into Max and then up into her neighbor's face. "Apology," she said, panting, "I..."

"Don't worry about it," said Min, wrinkling her nose and grinning. "Comes with the territory."

Ursa smiled back. "Is nice of you to say."

"Absolutely." Min's grin grew. "So, round two?"

"Da," said Ursa. Then, remembering her shrunken friend, she realized that this was probably the best opportunity she'd ever get to introduce him to Min. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to keep him hidden much longer. Hopefully, she thought, their current shared afterglow would limit the potential of a bad reaction. "Before that, though, a moment."

Sitting up and reaching a hand behind her, she gently peeled the three-inch freshman out of her ass and brought him up in front of her face. When Min realized the curious butt plug in her neighbor's hand wasn't a butt plug, her eyes went wide.

"Min," said Ursa, giving Max a reassuring, hazy smile. "Max. Max, Min."

Finally getting a good look at the hulking Chinese junior, Max froze. She looked just as formidably attractive as the few times he'd seen her around campus before—especially thanks to her current thick layer of dark eyeliner, mascara and bold green lipstick, all now seriously smudged from having her face between her neighbor's legs. Then, all at once, her strong features softened.

"Hey, little guy," said Min, barely concealing her exhilaration as she looked back up to Ursa. Just when she thought her neighbor couldn't be more of a dream girl, she just kept surprising her. "Damn, Ursa. You didn't tell me you had such a dommy streak."

"Me?" Ursa shrugged. "I find him in common room this morning. Looking after him until he can find cure."

"A cure..." Min scowled. "For shrinking serum?"

"I know," said Ursa, sighing. "Is unlikely. I am, how you say, humoring him."

Hearing this, Max suppressed the urge to groan. Somehow, it seemed like he was the last person at Ventus to hear about this stuff.

"I'll say," said Min, shaking her head. "I wouldn't mind trading places with him for a bit, though. Not full time or anything... but just a couple hours back there..." She leaned forward and gave her neighbor's hip a slap, earning a chuckle from Ursa. "I can't imagine what he's been going through today."

"You could ask him." Ursa smirked. "He speaks, you know."

"Does he?" Min grinned. "Coulda fooled me. So how about it, Max? How's Ursa's ass been treating you?"

"M-me?" Feeling his natural anxiety around cute girls kicking back into high gear, Max reflexively winced. "It's... it's alright, I guess."

"He is being modest," said Ursa, sharing a knowing look with Min. "He is ass man."

"Oh really?" Min's grin grew. "Well, in that case... let's get him back there, huh?"

Ursa grinned back— and as Max realized his guardian was handing him over to her neighbor, he couldn't resist speaking up. "Hey, hang on-"

"No need to be modest, Max," said Min, carefully cradling the shrunken freshman in her hand and giggling. "I'm an ass girl, too."

"Here." Rolling over on her back, Ursa gave her hips a wiggle. "You wish to do honors?"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Min, climbing back up onto the bed.

Pulling her neighbor's immense cheeks apart with one hand and pressing Max back between them with another, the Chinese junior shivered with pleasure. She'd always marveled at just how big and soft Ursa's butt looked, but the effect was even better hands-on. Packed with a dense mix of muscle and fat, her glutes were more like boulders than buttocks.

Just when Max had managed to get out of Ursa's ass, he found himself pressed right back in—and this time, his descent didn't stop at the limits of the Siberian amazon's asshole. As his head pressed against the center of her massive pucker, Min only doubled her efforts to force him further down. A second later, the ring began to give. Then, all at once, his whole head was sucked into a prison of wet, slimy darkness—followed quickly by his shoulders, chest, waist, legs, and feet.

"Oh!" Ursa cooed, almost involuntarily. While she was no stranger to playing with herself, she'd rarely done much with her backdoor—and as she felt Max squirming around inside her rectum, she couldn't help wondering why she hadn't tried this before now. "That is... ohh!"

"You like that?" Behind her, Min had shuffled off the bed and was rooting around in the closet—getting ready to add another layer of stimuli to their ass-play session. "Then I think you're gonna love this."

When Min turned around, Ursa's eyes went wide. "That is... strap-on?"

"Sure is," said Min, shaking the huge, purple cock strapped between her legs for emphasis. "Shall we?"

"Da," said Ursa. "Let's."

As the two giantesses got ready to get busy again, Max was in a state of total sensory deprivation. Within Ursa's rectum, he couldn't hear much of anything—although as he felt his giant guardian jostling around, he got the impression Min had rejoined her neighbor on the bed. Then, he saw the ring of muscles behind him starting to give way.

Feeling Min's huge, soft strap-on burrowing into her ass, Ursa inhaled sharply. Thanks to the generous quantity of lube her neighbor had applied before putting it in, and all the warming up they'd already done by eating her out, it wasn't as uncomfortable as she'd been led to believe—but it was still a very, very new experience. Nevertheless, it was also quite pleasurable... especially thanks to Max's struggles.

As the Chinese junior plowed her massive silicone cock up into the Siberian sophomore's rectum, Max felt like he was being hit by a freight train. The giant member was easily twice the size of his whole body, if not more, and once Min was in, she wasted no time starting to pump. The result was the most disorienting experience he'd had today by far—caught more directly than ever between the two giant lovers in the heat of their passion, blanketed in lube and butt slime, hoping and praying he'd make it to the other side but still very, very aroused.

"Harder," moaned Ursa, totally lost in the throes of pleasure.

"Yes, ma'am," breathed Min.

***

Three hours and a dozen more big, messy orgasms later, after trading the strap-on back and forth several times, Min and Ursa were spent. The room reeked of sweat, cum and farts, and the Chinese junior's mattress was now sporting at least five very prominent girl-cum stains. Nevertheless, she was happy. Happier than she'd ever been at the end of any hook-up night in her three years of college to date.

The big takeaway of the night for Min was that Ursa was a complete natural when it came to pegging. Once they'd washed off her strap-on and she'd showed her neighbor how to wear it, the Siberian amazon demonstrated the exact same level of strength and coordination she brought to every other activity. With her giant Russian neighbor effortlessly railing her with her own cock, it only took a few minutes for Min to get lost in the single-best orgasm of her life. Then, she'd turned right around and returned the favor.

"You have real talent," chuckled Ursa, stroking Min's hair. Her neighbor was resting her head on her stomach and had almost fallen asleep several times already listening to the gentle gurgling of the Siberian amazon's powerful digestive system—the same digestive system that had subsequently woken her up again and again with a series of powerful farts.

BRRROOOOOOPPPPP

As another gust of butt-wind rushed out of the giantess's ass, Max remained frustratingly lodged in her rectum. How he hadn't suffocated by now, he had no idea—although he was guessing it had something to do with the serum he'd been dosed with. The closest thing to fresh air he'd gotten in the last few hours had been Ursa's occasional bouts of gas during the breaks they'd taken from pegging each other, and they definitely didn't fill his lungs with much oxygen. The only upside, he supposed, was that it hadn't been a real cock. Otherwise, he'd have several loads of cum to contend with right now, too.

"Thanks," giggled Min, giving the air a sniff. "I was gonna say the same thing to you."

"So..." Ursa chuckled, unsure how to ask what she wanted to ask. "For tonight. I can stay over, yes?"

Min raised her eyebrows. "You don't mind the temperature?"

"For you?" Ursa smiled. "Nyet."

Beneath her, Max sighed. It was going to be a very long, very stinky night.

PART 4

When Max woke up, everything was black. It took him a moment to realize why. Despite all the farts Ursa had let loose over the last dozen-odd hours, he was still right where she'd left him last night: not just in her ass, but up it. Between the constant crushing pressure of the giant sophomore's equally giant rectum and the total lack of breathable air inside, it seemed like a genuine miracle he was still alive. Of course, that thought did little to offset the sheer physical discomfort of being stuck down here.
 
Reflecting on the previous day's events, the shrunken freshman knew he was still relatively lucky. After waking up naked in the Jock House's common room with zero memory of his first big college party, he'd had the immense good fortune of being found by the dorm's single biggest resident—who had ended up being every bit the gentle giant he'd hoped her to be. Now, with enough firsthand insight into the unexpected dangers and downsides of being three inches tall to last a lifetime, he was well aware that he'd probably avoided dozens of far worse fates than whatever he was currently dealing with. But, again, that didn't change the fact that he was literally up someone's ass—even if that ass belonged to a very sexy, if slightly intimidating, girl his age.
 
While Max had absolutely zero frame of reference for how long he'd been down here, a few sudden movements from his giant guardian suggested that his torment was nearing its end. As his whole prison suddenly shifted 180 degrees, he deduced that Ursa was awake and out of bed. A few subsequent shuffling movements later, she shifted back into a seated position. Then, all at once, he was hit with a wave of thoroughly unexpected force. 
 
BBBBRBRBPPPLLLLAAPPPPPPPPPP
 
"Hmm." As Ursa settled her powerful hips onto her neighbor's toilet, she couldn't help feeling like she was forgetting something. "Min?" 
 
"Yeah?" Registering the giant Russian sophomore's call through the door to her bedroom, the hulking Chinese junior shouted back. "Am I out of toilet paper again?"
 
BBBBRBBBRBRBRBPPPLLLLLLLLAAPPPPPPPPPP
 
"Nyet," said Ursa, shifting her hips as she continued letting loose on the toilet. "We have meet today, yes? For the wrestling?"
 
"Yeah," said Min. "I think today it's LMU."
 
"LMU?" Ursa groaned. What Yale was to Harvard and UC Berkeley was to Stanford, Lady's Mount University was to Ventus—and much of their rivalry was centered around the two schools' wrestling teams. "Blyat. Was hoping for easy day."
 
"Seriously," said Min, shaking her head.
 
BBBBRBBBRBBBRBRBPPPLLLLLLLLLAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPP
 
As the two teammates started shit-talking various members of the LMU wrestling team, Max was dealing with a much more literal kind of shit. While it stood to reason that a girl who ate as much as Ursa would have some nuclear-strength bowel movements, nothing could have prepared him for being on the receiving end of one. After being forced out into the toilet along with the Siberian amazon's first big log of the day, the three-inch freshman now found himself trapped in the world's most nightmarishly disgusting game of Tetris, scrambling from one side of the bowl to another to dodge everything that followed. Unfortunately, so far, he was zero for three.
 
BBBBRBBBRBBBRBRBRBRBPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
 
"Is away," grunted Ursa, squeezing out a fourth and final brick of shit. "Or home?"
 
"It's here, thank god," said Min. "I mean, it's like a seven-hour bus ride up to Storm Valley, so we'd probably have a hotel or something if it was there."
 
"Ah. Good." With her business finished, Ursa grabbed an entire roll of toilet paper and started wiping. "Apology for smell."
 
"You're good," Min chuckled. "That toilet's seen worse, trust me. I just hope Max doesn't mind."
 
"Max?" Finally realizing what she'd forgotten, Ursa ran a hand through her hair. "Cyka blyat..."
 
"You didn't know?" Min put a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. "Ohmygod, I thought you knew!"
 
When Ursa stood up and turned around, she couldn't resist a smile. Sure enough, cowering on the one side of the toilet bowl that wasn't filled with shit, there was Max. The fact that her dump was easily five or six times his size made him look even more comically pathetic than usual—like a tiny gladiator trapped in an arena with some kind of enormous stinky monster. "Good morning, Max," she said, chuckling in spite of herself. "Apology, for this."
 
When the three-inch freshman saw his giant guardian, he did his best to force a smile back. While this was, quite easily, the grossest thing he'd ever experienced in his entire life, the fact that Ursa had noticed him meant that he'd just avoided an even worse fate—getting flushed into the Jock House's septic system. "Ursa! H-hey!"
 
"Hey," said Ursa, blushing a little as she plucked her shrunken friend out of the bowl and brought him over to the sink. "Forgive me. I forgot you were... how you say, along for ride."
 
"Relax, dude," said Min, still listening in amusement from the other room. "He's a shrunken guy! They live for kinky shit like this!" 
 
Inside the bathroom, Ursa was already too busy lathering Max up with soap and water to respond. "You are lucky," she said, forcing another chuckle to inject some levity into a very awkward situation. "This was small one, for me. If big one... you are maybe not so lucky."
 
"It's... it's alright," said Max, resisting the urge to shudder as he tried to imagine the "big" version of such a bowel movement. From his diminished perspective, each of the logs she'd left in the bowl beside the sink was already the size of a bus. "I know it was an accident."
 
"Yes. Is nice of you to say." Ursa shook her head, rinsing the three-inch freshman off and wiping him down with a hand towel. "Will not happen again." She paused, then cracked another smile. "Unless... you like?"
 
"Me?" While no part of Max had liked being stuck in the middle of Ursa's morning dump, he could feel his face getting hot from sheer humiliation. "N-no, of course not."
 
"Was only joke," said Ursa, smile growing. "You are funny, miniaturnyy."
 
Too flustered to respond, all her shrunken friend could do was sigh.
 
As the Siberian amazon stepped back into the bedroom, Min looked up and grinned. Even with a face full of smudged makeup and sweat, she still radiated sex appeal and confidence. "Mornin', Max. Sounds like you went for a swim?"
 
"M-morning, Min," said Max, blushing harder than ever. "I-I guess that's one way to put it."
 
"See," said Min, nodding to Ursa. "I told you he liked it!"
 
"Very funny," said Ursa, looking down at Max and smiling again. To her neighbor's point, he did look awfully worked up. "No man is ass man this much. I think."
 
"You'd be surprised." Min wiggled her eyebrows. "One time, I was hooking up with this Loser House girl... you remember Summer Perkins, right?"
 
"Blonde amerikanskiy?" Ursa pursed her lips. "She used to wrestle, no?"
 
"Yeah," said Min. "She got kicked out of Diana last year for some kinda hygiene violation. Anyway, I was eating her ass, and then her pervy little roommate came in and started eating my-"
 
"No more ass talk for now," said Ursa, stepping over to the pile of clothes she'd left beside the bed. "Is time for breakfast."
 
"Alright, alright. I guess I hit a nerve." Rolling out of bed and slinking up beside her Russian playmate, Min planted a gentle kiss on the back of her neighbor's neck. "Sorry." 
 
"Is fine," said Ursa, shivering a little despite the room's intense humidity. "Now, we go?"
 
"Sure," said Min, grabbing a pair of yoga pants and a tank top from her closet. "We go."

***
 
In keeping with their usual game day routine, the two amazons started the morning in the cafeteria. Meanwhile, Max was safely stowed away back in Ursa's underwear—which, after the torture of spending a night up her ass and the terror of being trapped under a literal avalanche of shit, was like going back to the warm embrace of an old friend. He wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that he'd been reduced to thinking in these terms, but once again, he knew that he could have it a whole lot worse.
 
PPPPPRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT
 
As the shrunken freshman absorbed another blast of heavy-duty stink from his giant guardian's asshole, he grimaced. Even after the two full rolls of toilet paper Ursa had gone through in her neighbor's bathroom before they'd left for the gym, the smell factor down here was still considerable—and, as always, her farts weren't helping.
 
"Geez, dude!" Min laughed, waving a hand in front of her face. "I figured you'd be all tapped out after a paint job like that."
 
"Paint... job?" Ursa squinted. "What is?"
 
"That monster shit you left in my toilet," said Min, sounding equally amused and impressed. "That ass really isn't for show, huh?"
 
"Oh, heh. Nyet," Ursa chuckled. "Is not. But neither is yours."
 
"I never said it was." Without breaking eye contact with her neighbor, Min scrunched up her face and shifted to one side in her seat.
 
BBBBBRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP
 
This fart was loud enough to turn heads from several nearby tables—and smelly enough to prompt several people to get up and relocate. Grinning triumphantly, Min shot Ursa a wink. "Your move." 
 
Before the Siberian amazon could respond, she felt a hand on her shoulder—a hand every bit as strong as her own.
 
"Coach!" Looking up at the women standing over her neighbor, Min swallowed hard. "G-good morning!" 
 
Compared to the 6'8", 400-pound Russian sophomore and the 6'7", 360-pound Chinese junior, the 6'2", 280-pound American behind them was a little on the small side—but what Paula Knox lacked in size, she more than made up in reputation. During her time in the military's elite Forward Advanced Recon & Tactics unit, she'd allegedly taken down over a dozen enemy combatants using nothing but her powerful thighs and rump—and she'd done nothing to dispel that rumor once she became head of campus security at her alma mater. While she'd put a little extra weight onto her musclebound, bottom-heavy figure in the years since she'd returned to Ventus, especially since committing to coaching the school's varsity wrestling team, all that same raw power was still there—as she was more than happy to demonstrate to anyone on her team who doubted her capabilities. Wearing her usual "lucky" black fatigues and black boots, the brown-haired, blue-eyed, tan-skinned 39-year-old amazon looked just as imposing as ever—and for two girls like Ursa and Min, that was saying something. 
 
"Morning, ladies," said Paula, taking her hand off Ursa's shoulder and sniffing the air. "Hope I'm not interrupting something. We've got a problem."
 
"Problem?" Turning to face her coach, Ursa frowned. "How so?"
 
"Well, Beth just texted me, and she's sick." Paula brought a hand up to rub her forehead. "So we're down one for the meet later."
 
"Oh," said Min, "shit."
 
"Precisely, Zhao," said Paula, shaking her head. "Precisely. Trouble is, LMU's already here. So either we find a replacement before the match, or we forfeit." 
 
"We find replacement," said Ursa, scanning the room. "Is big school. We manage."
 
"In three hours?" Paula crossed her arms. "Seems optimistic, Ruski."
 
"Hmm..." For a moment, Ursa felt a twinge of uncertainty. To her coach's point, replacing Beth now would be easier said than done—especially because most of her Diana housemates were sleeping off last night's party. Still, she had no interest in conceding a match to her team's biggest rival without a fight. "Maybe that one?"
 
Following the Siberian amazon's gaze toward the cafeteria's lunch line, Paula scowled. "Her?"
The girl in question was Daisy Flores, a junior known to most Ventus undergrads by another name: Buttzilla. Towering over everyone else in the lunch line at 6'4" and easily 375 pounds, with a pronounced gut, watermelon-sized breasts, big, tree-trunk-like legs, and a three-foot-wide ass, she definitely satisfied the height and weight requirements to sub in for the similarly amazonian Beth. Even in a pair of dirty gray sweatpants and a matching ratty t-shirt, her powerful curves were impossible to ignore—and she clearly had at least some muscle underneath to keep it all moving. The only question was whether she would go for the team's offer. Based on the rumors that had always haunted the Loser House's biggest, smelliest resident, it was a miracle she was out of her room at all.
 
"Da," said the Russian sophomore. "Her."
 
"Alright, here goes nothing," said Paula, raising her voice to full former military officer volume. "FLORES!"
 
"H-huh?" As the chubby ogress noticed the warlike faculty member behind this greeting, her big, brown, visibly sleep-deprived eyes went wide. With the whole cafeteria suddenly staring at her, she looked like a deer in the headlights. "M-me?"
 
"Yes, you," barked Paula. "Get over here."
 
"O-okay," said Daisy, shuffling over with her tray only half full of food. "I-is something wrong?"
 
"Nyet." Ursa shook her head, offering the anxious junior a warm smile. "Daisy, hello. I do not think we meet before. I am Ursa, this is Min and Coach Paula. We are from wrestling team." Her smile grew. "We would like you to join."
 
"Me? On the wrestling team?" Daisy's voice rose at least one octave for this last part, clearly skeptical. Pulling a strand of greasy brown hair away from her acne-riddled but undeniably cute face, she winced. "...This isn't some kind of joke, right?"
 
"No joke," said Ursa. "We think you have, the..." She snapped her fingers, as if trying to conjure the phrase she wanted to use. "What is word?"
 
"Potential," said Min, grinning. "We think you've got potential."
 
"Okay." While Daisy still seemed to have her guard up, she didn't sound entirely opposed to the idea.
 
"How about this," said Paula, uninterested in wasting any more precious pre-meet time on this interaction. "Seems like we put you on the spot. So why don't you give it some thought, and then come by the fitness center after breakfast?"
 
"S-sure," said Daisy, managing a nod. "T-that works."

"Great." Paula nodded, waving the chubby ogress away. "Dismissed."

"Okay," stammered Daisy. "See ya later, I guess!"
 
"Later," said Min, flashing a peace sign.
 
"Dosvidanya," said Ursa.
 
With a half-hearted wave, the chubby ogress stepped back toward the lunch line—just in time to accidentally hip-check a nearby male freshman to the floor. Bowled over by the sheer force of Daisy's curves, he ended up totally soaked in the bowl of cereal he'd been transporting back to his table. Once again, all the eyes in the cafeteria were back on Buttzilla.
 
"Oh my gosh," Daisy stammered, extending her hand to the young man, "I'm so sorry, I really need to watch where I'm going..."
 
"Get away from me, you freak!" Scrambling away from Daisy's hand, the freshman looked like he was in the presence of an honest-to-god-monster.
 
"Okay," said Daisy, audibly wounded.
 
Watching this interaction, Ursa grimaced—just enough to inspire a comment from her coach.
 
"The hell are you frowning at? She laid that kid out like he was nothing!" Paula smiled. "You might actually be onto something here, Ruski."
 
"I suppose we see," said Ursa, shrugging.
 
***
 
About an hour later, with breakfast completed, Min, Ursa and Paula headed over to the fitness center to start warming up. They began with some cardio — with all three women occupying all three of the fitness center's "big and tall" treadmills as they jogged several miles at variable elevations — followed by squats, arms, and calisthenics. While this was happening, Max remained trapped in his giant Siberian guardian's butt crack, doing his best to avoid drowning in the growing quantity of sweat that he had to share the space with. With one meal digesting and another protein shake halfway finished, her digestive system was already roaring back to full strength ahead of the afternoon's match—and no one would have to deal with that more than her shrunken friend until then.
 
While Max had been hoping to get a break from Ursa's ass at some point after breakfast, a quick conversation during her second toilet trip of the day had done much to change his mind. The problem, according to her, was Paula—who, in addition to being the head coach of Ventus's wrestling team and the head of campus security, was also the administration's go-to "fixer" for any problems that might affect the school's reputation. Whether or not Max's sudden loss of size constituted such a problem was unclear, but Ursa thought it might be best to avoid finding out—and with little interest in ending up in the hands of such a militant hard-ass, her shrunken friend had agreed. Thus, he'd accepted that he was probably stuck down here for the rest of the day. He still wasn't sure how that would work once the wrestling meet got underway.
 
As Max readjusted himself to the realities of being chewed on by Ursa's ass, his giant guardian was chewing on a different reality: the fact that Daisy still had yet to show. Some part of her, the same part that still felt like a freak around all her shorter, slimmer American peers, really sympathized with the chubby ogress's plight. Ursa, too, knew what it felt like to be held at arm's length for being bigger and smellier than other girls, and she'd never liked it. That was part of the reason she loved wrestling. On the mat, for once, those things were advantages. She'd been looking forward to sharing that sense of empowerment with Daisy.
 
"Min," said Ursa, a few push-ups away from the end of her warmup. "You think we come on too strong? With Daisy?"
 
"I dunno," grunted Min. "I think she's just shy."
 
"Perhaps." Ursa frowned. "You think she shows?"
 
"Honestly?" Settling into a seated position and wiping a generous quantity of sweat off her brow, Min shrugged. "No idea."
 
"H-hey guys... is the offer still open? About joining the team."
 
When the two amazons turned around, they both grinned. Sure enough, as if on cue, there was Daisy—squeezed into the rattiest tank top, workout shorts and running shoes either of them had ever seen.
 
"Daisy!" Ursa beckoned her in. "You come. Excellent."
 
Recognizing that this was, in fact, not another elaborate prank at her expense, the chubby ogress smiled back. "Yeah! So, uh... what do I have to do?"
 
"That depends," said Paula, sitting up from her own set of push-ups. "How much do you know about wrestling?"
 
"Well..." Daisy scratched her head. "I watched a lot of WWE with my sisters when I was little."
 
"Alright," said Paula, exchanging a skeptical glance with Min. "Why don't we take this to the mat?"
 
***
 
The walk to the wrestling room only took a few minutes—and all four women were relieved to find that the LMU girls were seemingly warming up somewhere else. The walls were lined with bleachers and championship banners — several of the latter won personally by Ursa, Min and Paula over the last few seasons — and in the center of the space, the mat was ready for action.
 
"Okay. Flores, you stand there." Paula directed Daisy toward the mat, then did the same to Ursa. "Ruski, you wanna do the honors?"
 
"Da," said Ursa.
 
"Good," said Paula, putting her hands behind her back and pacing around the two young women. "The objective of wrestling is to dominate your opponent. This generally takes the form of pinning their shoulders to the floor for at least two seconds. Sounds easy, right?"
 
"I..." Eyeing her apparent opponent, Daisy swallowed hard. "N-not really?"
 
"Good answer," said Paula. "We might make a wrestler out of you yet, Flores. Now, why don't you try to knock Ruski down?"
 
"O-okay," said Daisy, crouching down a little. "Here goes."
 
Seeing this, Paula raised her eyebrows. "Who taught you to crouch like that?"
 
"That's just what they do on WWE," said Daisy, blushing a little. "Am I doing it wrong?"
 
"No," said Paula. "Honestly, that's not half bad."
 
"Cool." Looking up at Ursa, Daisy forced a shaky smile. "You ready?"
 
Ursa smirked. "Bring it on."
 
With that, the chubby ogress was upon her—slamming every inch of her vast form against the Siberian amazon with surprising energy. Though her technique needed work, Ursa had clearly been onto something by tapping her to join the team. That much was evident from the fact that Daisy succeeded in doing something that few of the Russian sophomore's opponents ever did—actually staggering her, if only a little. Even in the shock-absorbent confines of her big, round rump, Max could feel it, too. While the rest of the match was fairly one-sided, with Ursa counterattacking and almost effortlessly forcing Daisy to the floor, that initial show of force seemed just as impressive to Paula and Min.
 
"...How did I do?" Lying belly-up in the center of the mat, already soaking wet from the sudden exertion of being up against Ventus's single-best wrestler, Daisy looked genuinely unsure. "Did I make the team?"
 
Uncertain whether they had grounds to overstep their coach, Ursa and Min looked back to Paula—who responded with another shrug. "I don't think we're gonna do better than that by game time."
 
"C-cool," panted Daisy, sitting up and marveling at the heavy puddle of sweat beneath her. "So, uh... what now?"
 
"Now," said Ursa, giving her new teammate a hand to her feet, "we get ready."
 
***
 
With just under thirty minutes to go until the meet, Ursa, Min and Daisy proceeded into the lockers beside the wrestling room to shower and dress. While the giant Loser House shut-in exhibited an odd reluctance to get washed up, she eventually complied once her teammates explained that she'd be disqualified if she didn't. Here, in the showers, away from the prying eyes of Coach Knox, Max got his first break from Ursa's ass in at least three hours.
 
"Phew," said the Siberian amazon, holding her shrunken friend up to her face and wrinkling her nose at the characteristic aura of butt funk that seemed to come with him. "Big day of the smells for you, no?"
 
"Yeah," said Max, mostly focused on getting as many lungfuls of fresh, non-fart-scented air into his lungs as possible before he went back into his giant guardian's ass. "Big day."
 
"Who are you talking to, Ursa?" Sticking her head up from the next stall over, Daisy seemed intrigued. "Wait... is that..."
 
"A miniaturnyy, da," said Ursa, nestling Max to her chest. "No funny ideas. He is mine."
 
Hearing his giant guardian describe him as "hers," the three-inch freshman felt a curious surge of emotions—a mix of relief, pride, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.
 
"Oh, cool!" Daisy smiled. "There's a couple guys like that in my dorm. What's his name?"
 
"Max," said Ursa, still holding her shrunken friend close. "You know others, around here? Like him?"
 
"Oh, yeah," said Daisy, strangely nonchalant. "I mean, one of my neighbors is basically the shrinking serum dealer for the whole school."
 
"Interesting." Ursa looked down at Max, then back at Daisy. "Your neighbor, she makes this serum herself?"
 
"Yeah," said Daisy. "She's, like, the smartest person I've ever met. But she's also, like, a massive gooner."
 
"Gooner?" Ursa scowled. "What is?"
 
"Somebody who jacks off a lot," chuckled Min, listening in on this whole conversation from her own stall. "Seems like a winning combo for a shrinking serum dealer."
 
"Definitely," giggled Daisy, looking back at the shrunken man in her new teammate's hand. "Anyway, it's nice to meet you, Max!"
 
As Max opened his mouth to respond, the door to the showers swung open—and before Ursa could hide him, they came face to face with the entire LMU wrestling team.


PART 5

"Cyka blyat," muttered Ursa, sizing up the trio of purple-tracksuit-clad young women who'd just joined them in the shower. In keeping with every stereotype about the kinds of ladies who chose to attend Lady's Mount University, all three had to duck to get through the door.
 
First, there was Ariadne Santos—a black-haired, brown-eyed, tan-skinned Latina who was technically the smallest girl on the LMU wrestling team at 6'9" and 353 pounds. Now entering her senior year at the prestigious all-girls school, she'd been wiping the floor with other top athletes all over the country for eight straight semesters—although, unlike most of her teammates, she had no ego about that. In a sport that tended to over-index on domineering personalities, the curvy, musclebound tomboy was always a sweet and playful breath of fresh air at any competition—which made her the only one Ursa wasn't openly unhappy to see. 
 
Then, there was Brenda Fjällanvind—a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Nordic amazon who was much closer to the LMU "big bad girl" stereotype. At 6'10" and 374 pounds, the 22-year-old senior towered over most opponents in a way that often left them face-to-face with her prodigious strong-fat curves—and she never wasted an opportunity to use that to her advantage. Years of athletic excellence had trained her to view every inch of her voluptuous body — from her J-cup breasts to her couch-flattening ass — as a tool for tormenting others, and it made her a decidedly unpleasant adversary on the mat.
 
Finally, last but certainly not least, there was Jordana Oliveira—the 6'11", 440-pound captain of the LMU wrestling team and a titan in every sense of the word. A literal larger-than-life figure in the world of college sports, the black-haired, green-eyed, pale-skinned Brazilian senior's daunting size, eye-catching looks and supernaturally massive, infamously gassy rump commanded equal parts fear and reference wherever she went—and made her a force to be reckoned with at any wrestling meet. Of course, for Ursa, all of this was secondary to Jordana's reputation as a world-class bully—someone who made a point of toying with any opponent she deemed below her capabilities.
 
If these three young women were an unwelcome sight for the Siberian amazon, they were even more unnerving for the three-inch tall freshman in her hand. The prospect that there were any girls bigger than his 6'8" guardian was a deeply destabilizing discovery—let alone the fact that at least one of them was about to face off with her. How he'd fare in the depths of Ursa's ass during that match-up, he had no idea.
 
"'Sup, Ursa," said Jordana, locking eyes with her biggest rival and grinning. "Long time no see."
 
"Jordana," said Ursa, giving a curt nod of acknowledgment back. "Ariadne, Brenda."
 
"Yo," said Brenda, seemingly distracted by her opponent's exposed nakedness.
 
"Hey Ursa," said Ariadne, warm and outgoing as ever. "How's it going?"
 
"Is going fine," said Ursa, focusing her gaze back on the Brazilian titan. "So, you all lose your way looking for guest shower?"
 
"Nah," said Jordana, "just wanted to come say hi." Turning around and sticking her butt out toward her biggest rival, she grinned again. "Oh, and to do this."
 
BBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTT
 
As a suffocating wave of gas filled the already humid shower, all three Ventus wrestlers grimaced. While Ursa and Min's time in the Jock House and Daisy's time in the Loser House had given them a supernaturally high tolerance for all manner of high-grade bodily odors, a blast this powerfully noxious would have probably thrown the whole match in LMU's favor if it had been unleashed on any weaker opponents. This was another part of the Jordana legend—and she was frequently penalized at wrestling matches for working it into her finishing moves.
 
"Jordana!" Ariadne gasped. "Chill!"
 
"Damn, dude." Beside her teammates, Brenda looked like she was stifling a laugh. "That was a good one."
 
"What is this?" Unfazed by her rival's show of force, Ursa narrowed her eyes. "You are trying some kind of mind game? You know this does not work on me."
 
"Eh, worth a shot," said Jordana, glancing over at Min. "Oh, hey, Zhao. Didn't see you there."
 
"Hello, Jordana," said Min, crossing her arms. While she was rarely matched up with LMU's top-ranked player, the few times they'd clashed in the past had never ended well for her—and the smell of the Brazilian titan's latest fart brought back several unpleasant memories of her last defeat. 
 
"And who's this?" Shifting focus to Daisy, Jordana smirked. "New meat?"
 
"Leave her alone," said Ursa, a note of annoyance creeping into her voice. "You will not be facing her." 
 
"Alright, alright," said Jordana, turning back around and finally noticing the shrunken man in the Siberian amazon's cleavage. "What the... is that a..."
 
"Is nothing." Scowling, Ursa drew Max closer to her bosom. "You are seeing things."
 
"Doesn't look like nothing," said Jordana, stepping up to get a better look at Max. "What's your name, little guy?"
 
"M-Max?" With the giant wrestler's full attention on him, Max couldn't help shaking—even bolstered by his giant guardian's big, supple boobs.
 
"Hey, Ariadne," said Jordana, glancing back at her teammates. "Check this ou; they've got a shrunken guy. Just like your bro."
 
"Really?" Bouncing over to Ursa, the amazonian tomboy beamed. "Whoa, no way! I feel like Blaise usually ends up way smaller than this, though."
 
"Blaise?" Watching this exchange, Ursa perked up. "You have brother who is miniaturnyy?"

"Well... sometimes," said Ariadne, giggling. "It's complicated. One of his friends is this total whiz kid with science stuff, and she's always cooking up new inventions and testing them on him. Half of the time, they're duds, but sometimes they work..." She shrugged, gesturing toward the shrunken young man in Ursa's cleavage. "And then he ends up like this for a couple days."

Processing what this could mean, Max felt a brief, possibly irrational surge of hope. If this giant tomboy was telling the truth, maybe there was still some path for him to get back to normal.
 
"Sounds inconvenient," said Min. 
 
"Maybe a little." Ariadne shook her head, smiling. "My mom and his friends don't seem to mind, though."
 
"Yeah, they love it," said Jordana, taking another step toward her rival. "Say, Ursa... speaking of.... you're keeping this guy warm enough, right? Almost looks like he's shivering."
 
"Keeping him warm?" Again, Ursa scowled. "I-"
 
For Max, the next few seconds were a bit of a blur. One moment, he was nestled in the soft, sweaty embrace of his giant guardian's cleavage. Then, before Ursa could react, her rival's hand was coming toward him and pulling him up into the air. Then he was dangling over the abyss of the Brazilian titan's ass crack. Then, he was engulfed in a vast chasm—a chasm even bigger, sweatier and smellier than the one he'd just gotten a break from.
 
"Jordana!" Aghast at being caught so thoroughly off-guard, Ursa surged forward to grab her shrunken friend—only to find herself effortlessly kept at arm's length by the giant senior. "You give him back!"
 
"Hey, J," said Ariadne, crossing her arms. "C'mon. That's really not cool."
 
"What?" Hiking her track pants back into place, Jordana feigned innocence. "I'm just warming him up."
 
"Is not joke," fumed Ursa, already kicking herself for being so careless with the defenseless young man she'd sworn to protect. "He is mine."
 
"I can tell," said Jordana, smirking. "Never took you for the mama bear type. I guess it's right there in your name, though."
 
"You give him back." Again, Ursa narrowed her eyes. "Or I take him back."
 
"I'll think about it," Jordana scoffed. "On one condition."
 
"Nyet," Ursa growled. "You give him back, now."
 
"Or what? Are you about to try some shit?" Jordana's smirk became another grin. "Pretty sure there's rules about fighting before a match. Wouldn't want to get your team disqualified, would you?"
 
Recognizing the truth in the Brazilian titan's words, Ursa frowned. "What is condition?" 
 
"That's more like it." Jordana brought a hand back to adjust her underwear—not-so-subtly demonstrating the hold she now held over her rival's shrunken friend. "If you guys win today, you get him back. If we win, I get to keep him. Deal?"
 
"This is joke." Ursa's frown deepened. "Surely."
 
"I mean, I can just keep him, if you want." Lifting one leg for dramatic effect, Jordana winked. "Although it's a long bus ride back to Storm Valley. And I'm guessing we're gonna hit Taco Bell on the way."
 
BBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTT
 
As the room filled with another cloud of noxious gas, Ursa winced—less out of personal discomfort and more out of sympathy for her three-inch friend.
 
Within the confines of the Brazilian titan's rump, true to her rival's suspicions, Max had entered a completely new universe of torment. Especially at this range, her farts made everything he had gone through with Ursa feel like a warmup. With his face just a few inches away from the innermost depths of her asscrack and the absolutely monstrous asshole at the center, he had nothing to breathe but her fumes—and he could feel them taking a toll in real time. Already, the question of whether he could withstand being stuck down here for a whole afternoon like this — let alone the rest of his life if Ursa, Min and Daisy lost — was taking on profound and existential implications. 
 
"Well?" Jordana's grin grew. "Do we have a deal?"

Suppressing the urge to charge headlong at her rival in a last-ditch effort to rescue her friend, Ursa gritted her teeth and nodded. "Fine." 
 
"Perfect," said Jordana, sauntering back over to the door. "See you ladies on the mat. Oh, and one more thing."

BBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTT
 
With a final cloud of humiliating stink, the ringleader of LMU's wrestling team was gone—accompanied by Brenda and Ariadne, who managed a sympathetic final glance to Ursa before following her captain to go get changed. A second later, the ladies of Ventus wrestling were alone. About a minute passed in eggy silence before any of them thought to speak.

"So... what are we gonna do?" Looking over at Ursa, Daisy took on a tone of clear urgency. "We've gotta talk to someone from the faculty or something, right?"
 
"Nyet," said Ursa, shaking her head. "We do that, is even bigger trouble for Max. And all of us. Perhaps even expulsion."
 
"R-really?" Daisy flinched. "I didn't realize it was that serious."
 
"At home, possession of miniaturnyy without proper documents is ten years prison. Here, who knows." Ursa pursed her lips. "Only way we get him back now is to win." 
 
"Well," said Min, cracking her knuckles. "Then I guess we've got our work cut out for us."
 
As the three teammates began to prepare for the game, Jordana strolled into the away team locker room, glowing with triumph. With her biggest rival's smallest friend struggling between her cheeks, she was already feeling better about her odds in today's match—and was already considering following through on her threat of taking this guy home with her if she won. While this was far from her first time experiencing the joys of having a shrunken plaything, this one seemed to have much more energy than her best friend's little brother.
 
Meanwhile, Max was in hell. Trapped in the overpowering embrace of his new captor's impossibly vast rump, he felt like some kind of insignificant piece of space junk entering the orbit of a vast and unforgiving black hole. While Jordana's ass was just as soft and warm as Ursa's, the smell factor was even worse—and she seemed to pay even less mind to his struggles. By now, just a few minutes into his time in her crack, he was more or less face-to-face with her colossal rancid pucker — an orifice that looked big enough to swallow him whole without a second thought — and her every movement seemed to press him further and further against it.
 
BBRRRRTTTTTTTT
 
"Ahhh," breathed Jordana, halfway through squeezing her powerful curves into her purple and orange LMU wrestling leotard. Whenever she got dressed for a match, the form-fitting confines of her gear had a way of squeezing any lingering pent-up gas out of her like a big tube of toothpaste—and based on the way her shrunken captive's struggles had just resumed against her asshole, she'd managed to save him the best for last. "That's better. Hey, can either of you smell that?"
 
"I wish I couldn't," said Ariadne, holding her nose. "I told you leftover Indian food was a bad idea for breakfast."
 
"Ah, damn," said Jordana, jumping a few times to hike her leotard up over her rump. "Maybe I gave him too much to absorb."
 
"To much to..." Realizing that her best friend was referring to the shrunken young man she'd just stolen from her rival, Ariadne made a face. "You're gonna give that guy back either way after the match, right? I mean, it's kinda messed up if you actually take him home with us."
 
"Is it?" Jordana shrugged. "I mean, you know how this stuff goes. Most people who shrink aren't Blaise. I doubt this guy's ever gonna go back to normal."
 
"So that entitles you to turn him into your personal 'absorber'?" Ariadne frowned. "I mean, Ursa probably had him for a reason. Maybe his family entrusted him to her. How would you feel if Blaise shrank again, permanently, and someone stole him from me?"
 
"I guess that depends," said Jordana, smirking. "Am I the one who steals him in this scenario? What if it was Brenda?"
 
"Don't give me any ideas," said Brenda, smirking smugly. "Maybe we could share him."
 
"Very funny," said Ariadne, shaking her head. "You know what I mean though, right?"
 
"I do." Jordana chuckled, wiggling her hips against the bench beneath her. "Who says I'm gonna keep him down there all the time, though? I could get him a little terrarium, maybe put some grass down. Seems humane enough..." She grinned. "I mean, assuming I can keep my mom and my sister away from him."
 
"I...." Seeing the futility of having this kind of conversation with her least serious friend, Ariadne rolled her eyes. "Nevermind. We'll talk more after the match."
 
"Whatever," said Jordana. "So, we good to go?"
 
"Yeah," said Ariadne. "Let's get this over with."
 
Hearing all of this from his newfound prison, Max sighed. At this point, all he could do was wait and hope for the best.
 
***
 
By the time both teams filed into the wrestling room, the bleachers were packed with supporters—mostly Ventus undergrads, with a few conspicuously big and tall co-eds from LMU clustered together near the front. Seeing these legions of fans gave Ursa, Min and Daisy some support in the challenge to come, but not as much as any of them would have liked. While the stakes of this match had always been high, given that victory would secure their place in the statewide tournament at the end of the semester, the newfound burden of winning Max back weighed down on all of them—and none more than his original guardian. 
 
"What is lineup?" Forcing a smile to the crowd, Ursa settled herself on the bench beside her coach. "When I go on?"
 
"Take a wild guess," said Paula, extending a printout of the schedule. "They've got Zhao going up against Oliviera to start. And then Flores has to wrestle with Fja... whatever her name is. Viking girl."
 
"I see," said Ursa, noticing that her LMU counterparts had already taken their seats on the bench across from theirs. Briefly making eyes with her Brazilian rival, she squinted. "Then me and Jordana?"
 
"Yeah." Paula nodded. "Best for last, right?"
 
Before Ursa could say more, a whistle from the referee indicated that the first round of the meet was about to begin—and then Min and Ariadne were taking their places. The two amazons had faced off numerous times in previous tourmanets, and their record was quite close. In other words, at least for now, it was either team's meet to win—or lose.
 
"Psst," whispered Ariadne, leaning toward her sparring partner. "Listen. I'm gonna throw this one. 'Kay?"
 
"Huh?" For a moment, Min looked confused. Then, realizing what her rival was doing, she nodded. "Cool. Thanks. But I'm not gonna go easy on you."
 
Ariadne nodded back. Then, with another whistle, the two wrestlers made contact.
 
For the first few minutes, the match was relatively predictable—and for the audience watching, there was no indication that any funny business was afoot. Even though she planned to let Min win, Ariadne still put up enough of a fight to send the average collegiate wrestler to the hospital with several broken bones. Luckily, her opponent was no average wrestler. After going back and forth a few times, nearly pinning each other and then reversing course at the last minute, the hulking Chinese junior finally caught the musclebound tomboy in a powerful leg-lock, firmly pinning her to the floor under her powerful rump. What followed was totally beyond either girl's control. 
 
PPRRRRRTTTTTTTT
  
Accustomed to this unconventional style of KO — something frequently and vocally encouraged by Coach Knox — the crowd went wild. Meanwhile, over on the LMU bench, Jordana and Brenda silently fumed. 
 
"Ventus, one," barked the referee. "LMU, zero. Up next, Flores and F... Fjah..."
 
"I'm here," said Brenda, helping Ariadne back to the bench.
 
"Nice work, Zhao." Beckoning Min back to the bench before turning and clapping Daisy on the shoulder, Paula affected her best pep talk voice. "Alright, Flores. I'm not gonna pretend like I expect you to win this thing. But I do expect you to give it hell. Okay?"
 
"O-okay," said Daisy, standing up and shuffling over to the mat.

While the chubby ogress's presence at the match had gone largely unnoticed by the crowd until now, she could hear everyone erupting into murmured surprise as she found her way to the center of the room. With every step, her legendary booty seemed to be pushing her XXXL green and white Ventus leotard to its engineered limits—which offered quite a show for the people behind her, including Ursa and Min. Even if the Loser House junior wasn't exactly either girl's type, they both found it hard to avoid staring at her huge, hypnotically jiggling cheeks as she found her way to the center of the room.

"Hi there." Crouching down before Brenda, Daisy cracked a somewhat anxious smile.
 
"Hi," said Brenda, returning her opponent's smile. "This your first time?"
 
"W-well..." Unable to avoid thinking about the implications of this phrase, especially coming from a hot girl like Brenda, the giant virgin blushed. "I..."
 
With another whistle, the match was on—and rather than giving Daisy any time to complete her statement, the Nordic amazon wasted no time lunging against her like a one-woman avalanche. In a matter of seconds, she'd gotten her opponent in a similarly humiliating choke hold, with her powerful rump secured squarely over her face. Then, just two seconds after that, it was over.
 
As the ref called the match, Brenda could have sworn she heard her opponent moaning beneath her—and when she stood up, a small moist spot between Daisy's legs seemed to confirm her suspicions. Realizing what her opponent was staring at, the chubby ogress went even redder than ever. "Oh, I..."
 
"You're good," said Brenda, unable to conceal her amusement. "Happens to the best of us."
 
"Oh." Noticing Daisy's little accident, Paula nudged Ursa. "Look at that. I think we've got a convert."
 
"Oh, dear," said Ursa, instantly recognizing what her coach was talking about. "Tough time to have happen."
 
"Ventus, one. LMU, one." On the other side of the room, the referee piped up again. "Up next, Kolossovna and Olivieria."
 
"Well," said Paula. "Looks like you're up."
 
"Da." Ursa sighed. "Here is... how you say again?"
 
Paula chuckled. "Here goes nothing."
 
Ignoring the assistants wiping away the curious, slimy spot Daisy had left on the mat, Jordana was already getting into position—with Max still imprisoned between her cheeks. Trying to avoid dwelling on the thought of what her shrunken friend must have gone through over the last hour or so, Ursa took a deep breath and joined her on the mat.
 
"Ready, Ursa?" Jordana grinned.
 
"Ready," said Ursa, all business.


PART 6

Whenever Ursa stepped onto the mat, the match almost always went her way. At 6'8" and 400 pounds, she had few equals in the collegiate wrestling circuit in terms of sheer physical power—and that didn't even factor in her years of experience. The only time she ever had any doubts about her odds was when she faced off against Jordana.
 
At first, the two giant girls seemed equally matched. As the whistle blew and they slammed into each other, it was like an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. For several seconds, it almost looked like they were frozen. Then, all at once, the Brazilian titan got the upper hand—knocking her Siberian amazon rival down hard enough to shake the floorboards and nearly pinning her right then and there.
 
"There you go," said Jordana, unable to resist gloating. "Just sit back and take it." Leaning down to put her face next to Ursa's ear, she dropped her voice to a breathy whisper. "Your little buddy's mine now." 
 
Listening in from his perch in the back of the 6'11" senior's leotard, Max shuddered. If the barrage of heat, pressure, sweat and farts he'd endured since Jordana had ass-napped him from Ursa was any indication, he had no interest in going home with her after this—and did his best to express that disapproval with a fresh burst of resistance against the crushing tyranny of her rump.
 
"Oooh," Jordana chuckled, responding to the three-inch freshman's struggles with a firm clench of her cheeks. "I think he likes that idea, too. Maybe I should blow him a kiss?"
 
"Save your breath," Ursa grunted, still trying to avoid getting pinned. "You will need it when you have my ass on your face."
 
Jordana bit her lip. "I'm gonna take that as a yes." 
 
brrrrttttttttttt
 
As the Brazilian titan let loose a silent-but-deadly fart into her tiny captor's face, Ursa got another stinky reminder of everything she'd failed to protect her friend from. If she wanted to atone for her mistake and save Max from a life of certain misery, she knew it was now or never. Taking a deep breath in and summoning every ounce of energy at her disposal, she met her opponent's gaze with renewed determination.

"The only one who farts on him," she growled, lifting Jordana into the air and throwing her to the floor, "...is me!"

Blindsided by this sudden surge of energy, the Brazilian titan tumbled backward onto the mat with a thunderous thud—and before she had any time to recover, her rival was already leaping up to press her advantage. Burying the cocky wrestler's face between her cheeks like a Sybian, Ursa then proceeded to give the big bully a taste of her own medicine.
 
BBRRAAAAAAPPP
 
BBBRRRAAAAAAAPPPPP
 
BBBBBRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPP
 
With her whole head caught under the Siberian amazon's ass, Jordana had no choice but to sit there and accept the barrage of protein shake farts that followed. After spending most of her life surrounded by similarly big, gassy women, she had a higher tolerance for this kind of treatment than most—but even she had to acknowledge that Ursa's gas was no joke. It had been a while since she'd been on the receiving end of this kind of move.
 
"Gah," she gagged, forcing her hulking opponent off of her, "that reeks!"
 
"Spasiba," said Ursa, smiling. "I made myself."
 
Now visibly mad, the 6'11" senior lunged for the 6'8" sophomore again—only to realize she'd set herself up to get caught in another humiliating pin. A split-second later, her head was trapped squarely between Ursa's legs—with her face right up against her rival's big, sweaty, swampy crotch.

BBLLOOOAAAAARRRTTTTTTT

"Mmm," Ursa purred, filling her opponent's lungs with more fumes. While she'd never thought of Jordana in anything like sexual terms, it was hard to ignore how nice the Brazilian titan's nose felt against her clit—even after a long night of losing her virginity to Min. "How is this? You like?"

"Y-you wish," Jordana groaned, just barely managing to free herself again before attempting to grapple her rival back into submission.

Unfortunately, this time, she got a much more workable hold—pressing Ursa's face into her considerable cleavage before slamming herself down on top of her. Watching this, the crowd winced. At this rate, the two amazons were going to leave several cracks in the wrestling room's floor.

"That's better," the Brazilian titan whispered, grinning. "Now, tap out... or I'm turning your friend into a post-game snack."
 
Imagining Jordana acting on this threat, Ursa hesitated just long enough to get pinned to the ground again—nearly long enough to lose the whole match. When she pushed back and glanced at the stands, every Ventus face in the crowd looked deeply uncertain.

"Uh oh," Jordana chuckled. "You running out of gas?"

Scanning the room, Ursa scowled. She wasn't used to being the smaller, weaker competitor on the mat—or being seen in those terms by her fellow students. Still, she knew that any path to victory from here would start with accepting that and refusing to let her rival get any further into her head. All she could afford to think about was winning—not just for Ventus, but for Max.
 
"We have met, no?" Meeting Jordana's gaze again, Ursa flashed a grin. "I am never out of gas."
 
With another unexpected surge of energy, the Siberian amazon slipped free from her opponent's grasp and set herself up for a potentially game-winning move. Then, grabbing Jordana's considerable hips with both hands, she rolled back—slamming both of them into the mat, allowing her to resume her place on top, and reuniting the Brazilian titan's face with her rump just in time for another big, juicy fart. 
 
BBBBBRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPP
 
While this was happening, Max felt like he was trapped in a washing machine—which was, in turn, trapped in a broken septic system. Buffeted in every direction whenever the two wrestlers traded places, surrounded by competing bouquets of stink, he had little idea of which way was up or down anymore—although the fact that the smell of Ursa's farts was increasingly crowding out the smell of his captor's ass seemed like a good sign. It said a lot about the events of the last two days that he'd come to associate this particular odor with a feeling of safety and hope.
 
Registering Jordana's struggles finally ceasing beneath her, Ursa looked over at the clock on the ref's table just in time to see that she'd won. As the crowd got on the same page, the whole wrestling room erupted in applause.
 
"Ventus, two," barked the referee. "LMU, one!"
 
"That is more like it," said Ursa, stepping off her still-panting opponent, rolling her over and sticking a hand down the back of Jordana's leotard. "I will be taking this now."
 
To everyone watching, it looked like the Siberian amazon was playing some kind of strange, kinky prank. In truth, she was just rescuing her shrunken friend from the Brazilian titan's ass — and subtly slipping him back down into her cleavage — without giving anything away to the rest of the room. Back in the comforting embrace of his giant guardian's boobs, Max breathed a resounding sigh of relief. While he didn't seem any closer to returning to normal, he'd undoubtedly just avoided another far worse fate than a few more days with Ursa.
 
"Out-fucking-standing, Ruski," said Paula, hurrying over and clapping her star wrestler on the back. "That's what I'm talking about!"
 
"Great shit, dude," said Min, grinning from ear to ear. "Really great shit."
 
Still sitting on the bench, seemingly unsure whether she had the familiarity to offer any serious congratulations at a moment like this, Daisy gave Ursa a slightly nervous thumbs up before glancing down at the mat. Following the giant shut-in's gaze, the Siberian amazon turned to see her opponent stumbling to her feet with the help of her teammates. 
 
"Good game," said Ursa, extending her hand toward Jordana.
 
"Yeah, yeah," said Jordana, accepting her rival's offer to shake. "It's not like I even wanted that guy anyway."
 
"Guy?" Paula raised an eyebrow. "Hard to imagine you two fighting over a boy."
 
"Is inside joke," said Ursa, shooting a wink at Jordana. "Long story."
 
"Yeah," said Jordana, nodding gamely. "What she said."
 
***
 
Following a medal ceremony, a few commemorative photos and a quick team debrief in the locker rooms, the six amazons were dismissed. From there, after a few goodbyes, Jordana, Ariadne and Brenda headed off to grab dinner and gear up for the bus ride back to Storm Valley, Daisy headed back to the Loser House, and Ursa and Min returned to House Diana. By now, almost 5:00 PM on a Sunday, the whole of Ventus was already gearing up for one more night of partying before the school week started again—Ursa's neighbor included.
 
"So," said Min, playfully hip-checking Ursa as they strolled down the hallway toward their rooms. "You wanna come over and celebrate?"
 
"Da," said Ursa, adjusting her bra. "But first, I need moment alone with Max."
 
"Suit yourself." Min smiled. "...Maybe I'll come check on you in a bit?"
 
"Maybe you do," said Ursa, smiling back. "This sounds good."
 
"Cool," said Min, planting a quick kiss on her neighbor's cheek. "See ya."
 
A second later, behind her door and two locks, the Siberian amazon and her shrunken friend were alone—and when she peeled him out of her cleavage, they shared a laugh at the sheer surreality of the day's events.
 
"Hey," said Ursa, blushing a little. "I am sorry, for today."
 
"What for?" Max shrugged. "I'm pretty sure you just saved my life."
 
"Only because I was not careful with you in first place." Ursa scowled. "This will never happen again. I..." Again, she blushed. "I care for you. I want keep protecting you."
 
"I care for you, too," said Max, feeling his own face getting similarly hot. "I'd love that. I-"
 
Before Max could say more, he found himself immersed in a more disorienting experience than anything he'd gone through in the past two days combined—pressed against the Siberian amazon's big, full lips for an absolutely massive kiss. As a certified kissless virgin up until this moment — not counting the several hours he'd spent being a third wheel to Ursa and Min's hookup last night — it was a little hard to determine the exact style of this kiss. Was it lusty? Affectionate? At this point, all he really knew was it was big—and as she drew him away, he couldn't keep a single word from escaping his mouth. "Again..."
 
Ursa grinned. "You are funny, Max. I like you, very much."
 
Now beet red, Max grinned back. "I like you very much, too." 
 
As Ursa opened her mouth to say something else, there was a knock on her door.

"Yo! It's me!" Audibly ready to get busy with her neighbor again, Min gave the door a few more knocks. "You guys good?" 
 
"Almost," said Ursa, setting her shrunken friend down on her desk. "Two seconds, please."
 
"Take your time!"
 
For the next several minutes, the Siberian amazon fell into a whirlwind of clothing selection—diving into her closet and trying on a dozen different sets of lacy plus-sized lingerie. Watching this, Max was treated to quite the show—although the room's frigid temperature and his continual nakedness didn't help. Neither did the fact that most of the options she showed him looked so similar.
 
"This one, is good?" Looking to her shrunken friend for guidance on the kinky black leather bra and panties in her hands, Ursa pursed her lips. "Or too much?"
 
"They all look good to me," said Max, mostly caught up thinking about how cold the room felt without clothes of his own. "Whatever you think is best."
 
"You are not decisive," said Ursa, returning her attention to the closet. "I suppose I should know this by now."
 
After a couple more false starts, the Siberian amazon landed on a skimpy hot pink bra and panties—and while they were clearly meant for someone at least two sizes smaller than her, they definitely matched her inner girly-girl aesthetic. When she got them on — after peeling herself out of her sweaty wrestling leotard and dropping it rather unceremoniously on the desk next to her shrunken friend — it was hard to deny that she made it work. Finally, after giving her hair a quick tousle in the mirror, she bounced over to let Min in. 
 
"Okay," said Ursa, flipping both locks. "Ready."
 
When the Siberian amazon opened the door, she found her amazonian neighbor wearing a similarly skimpy getup—a green silk robe that left nothing about her powerful curves to the imagination. Based on the sliver of cleavage that showed through at the top, she wasn't wearing anything else underneath, either. 
 
"Hey there," said Min, taking a few steps into the room and immediately making a face. "F-f-fuck it's cold in here! Are those... air conditioners?"
 
"Two of them, da," said Ursa, amused at her neighbor's apparent lack of cold tolerance. "Apology if is too much, for you."
 
"It's f-fine." Min smiled through already-chattering teeth. "J-just means you're gonna have to warm me up."
 
"Is something I can do," said Ursa, eyeing the rock-hard, quarter-sized nipples protruding through her neighbor's robe. Then, noticing the way Max was trying to take refuge in the folds of the steamy, sweaty leotard on her desk, she shook her head. "You may not be only one."
 
"Oh, well, yeah, duh," said Min, stepping over to the desk. "You mind if I?" She pantomimed the act of placing the three-inch freshman in her cleavage.
 
"I do not know," Ursa shrugged, smirking. "Ask him." 
 
"Alright." Crouching down beside Max, Min grinned. "Hey little guy... you want me to warm you up?"
 
"Y-yes, p-p-pplease," said Max, shivering. 
 
"Say no more," said Min, untying her robe, bending down over the table and scooping the shrunken young man up in the warm, sweaty embrace of her boobs. "Now, let's get cozy."
 
Beckoning her neighbor over to her bed, Ursa climbed under the covers and started to make herself comfortable—and Min quickly followed her lead. Slipping out of her robe and snuggling up against her giant Russian playmate, she pressed her chest right up against Ursa's and went in for a kiss. Feeling Ursa's hands running up and down her back, she couldn't help letting out a little moan of pleasure. After all the physical brutality of the match, the sheer softness of the moment was everything she'd been hoping for and more.

"Fffuck..." she breathed. "That's better."

"Da," said Ursa. "Much better."
 
As the two amazons locked lips, the shrunken man between them was subjected to an overpowering sandwich of soft, sweaty skin—and he was loving every second of it. Especially after narrowly avoiding spending the rest of his life as Jordana's personal fart absorber, the idea of spending the rest of tonight at Ursa and Min's mercy sounded like heaven. He still wasn't sure what to make of the kiss he'd gotten from his giant guardian, although he hoped it wouldn't be the last. 
 
prrrrrrrttttttt
 
"Apology," said Ursa, chuckling. "We used to do this back home. Way of warming up in winter."
 
"Works for me," Min giggled, scrunching her face up a little.
 
BRRRRRTTTTTTTTTT
 
"You are alright?" Ursa smirked. "You did not force too much?"
 
"Nah," said Min. "I think we're good."
 
"Okay," said Ursa. "My turn again, then."
 
BRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP
 
While both amazons managed to avoid the bulk of the smell of their not-so-little fart-off with their heads above the covers, things were very different for the shrunken freshman between them. Still thoroughly trapped between Min's cleavage, with his entire body under the sheets, Max was forced to breathe in every bit of the potent bouquet of aromas his two guardians were cooking up. While this still beat whatever he'd be dealing with under Jordana right now, that didn't make it any more pleasant.
 
"God damn!" Again, Min grinned. "That was pretty good... but check this out!"
 
BRRRRRRRRRAAAPAPPLLFLFLFTTTTTTTTTT
 
"I…" Suddenly, the Chinese junior's grin became a grimace. "...I might need to use your shower really quick."

"Happens to best of us," Ursa chuckled. "Please do."
 
***
 
Three hours, one shower and at least four orgasms later, the two amazons had settled back into bed under a new, clean set of sheets to round out the night bingeing Project Runway on Ursa's laptop—and after surviving the sensory overload of Min's shart, Max had successfully advocated to sit above the covers to watch with them.
 
"Is not as good now," said Ursa, frowning at the events onscreen. "Was better when Heidi Klum was host."
 
"I'll take your word for it," said Min, still struggling to get into the show's total lack of sex or violence. "Would you wanna maybe... switch over to UFC after this episode? There was a match last night I wanted to catch."
 
"This works for me," said Ursa. "Max, you have preference?"
 
"Me? Oh, uh... what about some anime?" With the eyes of his two giant guardians on him, Max forced a smile. "Do either of you know My Hero Academia?"
 
For a moment, there was silence. Then, both jocks burst out laughing. 
 
"Wow," Min giggled. "A shrunken guy and a weeb. That's a tough combo."
 
"Very," Ursa chuckled. "We stay on Project Runway then, for now."
 
"Yeah." Min shook her head, still giggling. "Hey, speaking of Max... what's your plan with him for tomorrow?"
 
"Plan?" Realizing she hadn't thought of this, Ursa frowned again. "Oh. I guess... I hang onto him? When I go to class?" Looking down at her shrunken friend for reassurance, she shrugged. "Is good with you, Max?"
 
"Y-yeah!" Max nodded. "That sounds good to me."
 
"Good," said Ursa. "Is settled then." 
 
From there, for Max, the rest of the night was a long, relaxing blur. Even when the two amazons finally switched to UFC, there was something undeniably soothing about being caught between them—safe and protected from any and all threats, aside from their various odors. While he still had high hopes for returning to normal, a growing part of him really felt like he could get used to this. 


PART 7

For the second day in a row, Max awoke in total darkness—smothered on all sides by soft, smelly flesh. A tentative breath brought a thick gust of familiar earthy stink into his lungs, and he had to resist the urge to gag. Just a few days ago, he would've had no clue what to make of a situation like this. Now, he knew exactly what was going on. He was back in Ursa's ass.
 
Somehow, at some point during the night, he must have gotten dislodged from his giant guardian's cleavage. From there, he'd clearly fallen down the vast, sweaty landscape of her torso and ended up lodged in the humid canyon between her cheeks. Either that, or Min had stuffed him down here as a joke while her neighbor-with-benefits was asleep. The only other explanation was that he'd sleep-crawled down here on his own, a thought he found too unsettling to ponder for long.
 
BBBRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLPPPPPPP
 
As if on cue, a wave of hot, thick gas suddenly flooded the all-too-limited space around him, carrying the unmistakable smell of protein powder. It was a sleep fart, powerful and unhurried, a testament to Ursa's weapons-grade digestive system—and as the foul air washed over Max, he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face into the soft flesh of her inner cheek.

Even after two full days in Ursa's custody — there was no other word for it — he had no luck withstanding the effects of her gas. The fact that he'd woken up with his face just a few millimeters away from her asshole didn't help. In a matter of seconds, his lungs felt like they were on fire, and his eyes were watering. It was like she was marinating him in her fumes, forcing the essence of her lowliest bodily functions into every pore of his shrunken form—and the worst part was, she wasn't even trying.
 
A moment passed in eggy silence. Then, Max's entire world shifted.
 
"Ugh…" As Ursa rolled onto her side, her voice was a sleepy, husky rumble. "Min? Ty zdes'?"
 
More silence. The Siberian amazon extended a hand toward her nightstand to check her phone.
 
"Bozhe moi," she muttered. "Ten? Already?"
 
Ursa's bed creaked in protest as she got up, the movement jostling Max violently. He was suddenly sliding, her slick cheeks giving way as gravity took hold. Then, for one terrifying second, he was in freefall, tumbling through the dark, warm air between her ass and the bed. He landed with a soft thump on her damp, rumpled sheets, right between the twin craters she'd left in the mattress.
 
After hours of absolute darkness, it took a second for Max's eyes to adjust to the light streaming through Ursa's windows—and the stark contrast between the tropical swamp of her crack and the frigid tundra of her room was enough to make him wince. He squinted, raising a hand as his giant guardian shuffled over to the closet to start getting dressed.
 
From his current vantage point, she was just as much of a living mountain range as ever—her bare back a canvas of powerful muscle and soft, pale fat, tapering down to a waist that exploded into the two vast hemispheres of her buttocks. Her ass dominated his field of vision, each cheek larger than a house, still glistening with a fine sheen of night sweat. As she scratched the small of her back, her fingers dug into the flesh just above the deep crack he'd just escaped. Then she turned around, and he was faced with the full, frontal glory of Ursa Kolossovna first thing in the morning.
 
Her stomach, soft and slightly rounded, bore the faint lines of powerful abs beneath. Her breasts, colossal and heavy, hung with a natural weight that was both intimidating and awe-inspiring. Her platinum hair was a messy shock against her pillow-creased cheek, and her face was just as intimidatingly beautiful as the day he'd first laid eyes on her—somewhere between a Slavic supermodel and an amazon warrior queen.
 
Noticing the shrunken man on her bed, Ursa blinked her ice-blue eyes down at him. A slow, sleepy smile was spreading across her face. 
 
"Max," she said, her voice still thick with sleep. "There you are." She leaned down to pick him up—and as she brought him to her face, she wrinkled her nose. "You smell like butt. My butt."
 
"That's because, well…" Max stammered, instinctively looking down. "I guess I ended up back there last night."
 
"Da, I felt you," she chuckled. She carried him with her as she returned to the closet, selecting a clean red sports bra and a matching pair of compression shorts. "You guess? Was on purpose, no?"
 
"W-well…" Max could already feel himself blushing—especially when Ursa set him down on her desk, and he got to watch her try to push her immense curves into form-fitting activewear. "N-no, not really."
 
"You are funny one." She shook her head, well aware of the effect she had on her shrunken friend by now. "Perhaps we try something different today. No more ass, yes?"
 
"I… sure?" Max forced a shrug. "Sounds good to me."
 
"Good." With practiced ease, Ursa peeled her sports bra forward and tucked him inside. The soft, yielding pressure of her cleavage enveloped him, a vast improvement over his previous lodgings—although the lingering scent of her sweat was still no picnic.
 
"You hold on," she instructed, giving her chest a slight bounce that made his world jiggle nauseatingly as she strolled into her ensuite bathroom. "Time for morning business." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Unless you want front-row seat again?"
 
Thinking back to the way he'd started the day yesterday, trapped in Ursa's toilet as she let loose with a truly catastrophic morning dump, Max went white. "I-I think I'm good, thanks." 
 
"Okay," said Ursa, pulling down her shorts and settling onto the toilet. "Apology for noise. This one will be big one, I think."
 
As the Siberian sophomore began her "morning business," Max watched with equal parts fascination and horror. Even after sharing a bathroom with two very big, very smelly women back home, he'd never experienced anything like one of Ursa's dumps—although he much preferred his current spot to the one he'd had yesterday. In the moments when he worked up the courage to look down, the toilet bowl looked like a warzone. Log after bus-sized log piled up, quickly going above the waterline and inundating the whole room with stink. Meanwhile, Ursa idly scrolled through Instagram on her phone, liking photos from kawaii influencers and lithe fashion models between every apocalyptic push. 
 
"Which one you like better," she grunted, directing Max's attention toward two pink frilly dresses on her feed. "This, or that?"
 
"Uh…" Thoroughly distracted by the mountain of shit Ursa was in the process of leaving in the bowl beneath them, Max shrugged again. "I dunno?"
 
"Not your type?" Ursa scrolled further down, stopping on a post from a popular cosplayer in a full leather dominatrix getup. "How about this?"
 
"That?" For some reason, Max could feel himself blushing again. "Well…"
 
"Looks like yes to me," Ursa murmured, finally reaching over to the toilet paper to start wiping. At this point, there wasn't a single patch of water left in the bowl—and the resulting smell was beginning to make Max feel lightheaded. "You want big dommy girl, yes?" She chuckled. "What I am saying. Of course you do."
 
Down in her cleavage, all Max could do was force a laugh.
 
"Oh!" Glancing back at her shrunken friend, Ursa perked up. "I almost forget to ask. You need to go too?"
 
Max grimaced. While he did have to pee, he didn't like the idea of standing on the rim of the bowl and risking a close-up with Ursa's latest work. Still, he knew he wasn't going to get another chance any time soon. "Uh… sure?"
 
"Good," said Ursa, plucking him out and settling him on the seat between her legs. "Do not worry. I look out for you." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "You are not shy, no?"
 
"Me?" Max forced another laugh. "O-of course not!"
 
"I would not think so, after what you see me do." Ursa winked. "Most unladylike."
 
Fortunately, owing to the minimal amount of food and water Max had consumed the previous day, it didn't take him long to pee—at which point he eagerly beckoned Ursa to return him to the safety of her bra. 
 
By the time the Siberian amazon finished wiping, she'd gone through a full roll of paper—and when she finally stood, it took four full flushes to clear the bowl. "Much better," she sighed, turning to the sink to wash her hands and shooting Max another smile. "Now, I was thinking. Mondays, I have no classes until the afternoon. Perhaps, this morning, we-" 
 
Before she could say more, there was a knock in the other room—loud, clear, and entirely unexpected. 
 
"Hello?" Scowling, Ursa grabbed Max, stepped back into her room, and glanced toward the door. "Who is there?"

The knock came again, harder this time, followed by a voice—a deep, smoky baritone that seemed to lower the room's temperature by another twenty degrees. It was a voice that carried the weight of absolute authority, with a Russian accent that made Ursa's look light by comparison. 
 
"Ursula. Otkroy dver."
 
All at once, Max felt Ursa's entire body go rigid. The playful, post-coital warmth on her face was gone, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated dread. Her ice-blue eyes went wide, flicking to the shrunken man still nestled in her cleavage.
 
"Blyat," she muttered. "Mama…" 
 
Another voice, younger and sharper, chimed in. "Little bear? You are in there, yes?"
 
"And Katya," Ursa groaned, her voice tight. "Cykya blyat."
 
Realizing she had no time to lose, she glanced around the room—frantically searching for a hiding place that wouldn't immediately be found by the most perceptive and dangerous women she knew. The closet was too obvious. As were her drawers. Finally, her gaze fell to her own body, to the one place they would never think to look—the very place she'd just promised to give Max a break from.
 
"Apology, Max," she whispered, visibly frustrated. "I go back on my word, just this once."
 
Before he could even form a response, her huge hand plunged into her cleavage, closed around his tiny, sweat-slicked form, and yanked him out into the cold air. Then, in one desperate motion, she hiked up her shorts and shoved him down, headfirst, into the boundless depths of her ass crack.
 
As Max was forced downward, the world disappeared into a familiar universe of heat, pressure and stink. Brushing past the soft, sweaty skin of Ursa's inner cheeks, he came to rest with his face pressed firmly against her colossal, wrinkled asshole—even hotter and funkier than before, the aftermath of her morning dump an unmistakable and deeply inconvenient presence. He was buried alive, the sounds of the world instantly muffled into distant rumbling echoes. Whether this would be an improvement over meeting Ursa's family remained to be seen, but her reaction hadn't seemed promising.
 
He heard the door swing open, followed by several big, confident footsteps—one set clearly high heels, and the other more like boots.
 
"Mama. Katya," said Ursa, trying — and failing — to sound happy. "This is… surprise."
 
As Ursa sized up her mother and sister, she felt a familiar dread settle in her gut. Her mother, Katarina, seemed to be in her usual form, the same monument of calculated elegance and imposing power that Ursa had been only too happy to escape. At 6'5" and several hundred pounds of muscle and lavish curves, the amazonian MILF had a way of sucking all the air out of any room she entered—including this one. In defiance of the sunny Southern California weather outside, she was draped in a floor-length coat of pristine white fur, worn over a sinfully tight blood-red leather dress that strained over her colossal breasts — Ursa came by her powerful curves quite honestly — and equally monumental hips. Her platinum hair was cut into a severe bob that framed a face of ghostly pale, perfectly made-up skin, sharp winged eyeliner and bold crimson lips that looked more like war paint than cosmetics. Her eyes, piercing, unnerving gold, scanned the room with predictably icy disdain, missing nothing. 
 
Beside her, Katya looked like she was well on track to maturing into a sleeker, sharper instrument of the same dark legacy. Though she was the shortest of the family at 6'1", Ursa's 23-year-old sister was no less intimidating—and had still inherited a good deal of their mother's dense frame and powerful curves. She was clad head to toe in lethal elegance: a tailored black leather biker jacket over a tight black tank top, skin-tight designer jeans that looked custom-tailored to showcase her powerful hips and big, athletic rump, and heavy-soled combat boots that added an extra inch to her already formidable height. Her hair was the same Kolossovna platinum white, but worn in two long, severe braids that hung down her back like whips, tipped with sharp silver caps. Her eyes, the same ice-blue as Ursa's, glimmered with their usual look of sadistic glee. When she flashed a smile, Ursa caught a glimpse of her latest extravagant present from their mother—a set of custom silver grills with pronounced upper and lower canine fangs. 
 
"A pleasant one, I hope." Katarina's voice was a predatory purr. "Or do you forget your family so fast in this… sunny place?" At the word 'sunny,' her expression soured.
 
"Our plan was to join you for Parents' Weekend," Katarina continued, her heels clicking on the floor as she began to inspect her daughter's room. "My assistant booked wrong flight." She scoffed. "A simple error. Most unfortunate. For him."
 
Katya laughed—a harsh, cold bark. "I made his face my chair, all the way from Moscow." There was a dark, gleeful pride in her words. "He will have smell of my ass in his nose for weeks, I am sure."
 
Hearing this, Max shuddered against Ursa's big, wrinkled starfish. Wherever his giant guardian had gotten her gentle disposition toward those weaker than her, it clearly hadn't come from either of these two.
 
Katarina gave her eldest daughter a subtle smirk of approval, then returned her attention to Ursa. "Speaking of ass on face, we watch your last match on plane. The Oliveira girl. You went easy."
 
Ursa's whole body tensed up again around Max, and he could feel her sphincter clenching—a physical manifestation of her stress. "We won, Mama."
 
"A win is not just a win," Katarina countered. "It is the moment you say who you are. This place is making you soft."
 
"Perhaps her mind was elsewhere," Katya chimed in. "A new… distraction, perhaps?" Her eyes lingered a moment too long on her sister's conspicuously damp, unmade sheets.
 
"That is none of your business," Ursa managed, her voice tighter than ever. 
 
"Everything about you is our business," Katarina scoffed, tracing a gloved finger across her daughter's dress-making mannequin. "You forget that your education here is a formality. A backdrop for the connections you should be making."
 
"I am making connections," Ursa grumbled. Beneath her, Max was being clenched hard enough to see spots.
 
"Who? Some big, strong American boy?" Katya took a step forward, clearly feeding off her little sister's discomfort. "Tell me, little bear. Have any of them tried to… climb your mountain yet? Have any of them survived?"
 
"Assuming the smell in here did not kill them first," Katarina scoffed, flaring her nostrils dramatically. "I feel like I am back in your babushka's barn."
 
By now, the combined Russian offensive was already wearing thin on Ursa—although she knew better than to show any sign of weakness with these two. Instead, she took a furtive glimpse at her phone in search of any possible excuse.
 
"Do not worry about your classes," said Katarina, smiling smugly. "I have put word in with the school. They know you are mine for the day." She took a step toward the door and nodded for Katya to do the same. "You will meet us for lunch. The Excelsior Room at California Imperial. One hour. You will wear the dress I sent for your birthday, yes? And do something with your hair. You look like a stray dog."
 
"Da, Mama," Ursa said, simultaneously resigned and relieved.
 
The sharp click of heels receded, followed by the heavier, confident tread of boots. Katya paused at the door. "A shower would not kill you, either," she sneered. "See if you can wash some of this… California off of you."

She took one more step forward, then paused, a look of mock contemplation on her face. She shifted her weight onto one hip, and with a soft, almost dismissive grunt, she let out a sharp, concise fart.

Pffrt

It was a small, dry sound, utterly controlled and deliberately demeaning. A puff of air escaped the confines of her skin-tight jeans, carrying a formidable burst of cheesy stink into the room. It was not a fart of volume, but a final olfactory insult aimed at her sister's space. She didn't even flinch, merely glanced over her shoulder as the sound dissipated, her silver-fanged grin widening ever so slightly.
 
"Dosvidaniya, little bear," she purred, before closing the door with a soft, definitive click.

The silence that followed was broken only by the hum of air conditioning and Max's muffled struggles against his fleshy prison. 
 
For a long moment, Ursa was motionless. Max could feel the frantic pounding of her ears through the walls of flesh around him, a stark contrast to her usual steady demeanor. The oppressive heat and thick, musky aroma of her post-dump rump were suddenly secondary to the palpable amount of stress she seemed to be under.
 
Then, with a sigh that made her entire frame tremble around her shrunken friend, she closed the door, hooked her fingers into the back of her shorts and plucked him free. She held him up to her face, eyes weary with residual stress, cheeks flushed, and short platinum hair askew. For the first time since Max had met Ursa, she looked genuinely rattled. 
 
"Apology, Max," she breathed, shaking her head. "That was… unexpected. You are okay?"
 
Max took a second to get his bearings, sucking in deep breaths of cold, relatively clean air. "I'm fine," he managed, his voice a squeak compared to hers. "A little… wet. But okay. Are you okay?"
 
The question seemed to surprise Ursa. She let out a short breath that was almost a laugh. "Me?" A weary smile touched her lips. "I am used to it. They are… a lot. I am only sorry you are here for it."
 
"It's fine, really," said Max, offering another weak shrug.  "So, uh… brunch?"
 
"Da," Ursa chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Brunch. I know the place, we go every time they are in town. Is very fancy. Very… public." She looked back at Max, her expression turning pensive. "You will have to come. If I leave you here, and Katya came back to look around…" She grimaced. "She would not be gentle with you."
 
Hearing the clear apprehension in Ursa's usually confident voice, Max nodded solemnly. "Okay. That makes sense. But… does that mean…”
 
"Da," said Ursa, giving her prodigious rear a theatrical slap and flashing a small grin. "Only place I know you will be safe. I do not think I will have any more… morning business. But I may have to keep you there until tonight." She gave a slight, apologetic shrug of her colossal shoulders. "Not good day for me, either."
 
Max looked from Ursa's concerned face to the formidable curve of her hips. He was far from excited at the prospect of spending another unknown stretch of time trapped in his Siberian guardian's big, smelly rump. Still, some part of him liked the idea of having Ursa's back for this. However small he was, he got the impression she'd appreciate his company. 
 
He took a deep breath. "Okay, let's do it."
 
Ursa's face softened with relief. "You are brave, miniatyurnyy. Or stupid. Or maybe both." She brought him close to her lips and planted a soft kiss on the top of his head. "I will make it up to you. I promise. Starting with some crumbs at brunch. They do a good croissant."
 
The attempt at normalcy was endearing. Max managed a weak smile back. "Yeah. Sure."
 
"Okay," she said, glancing toward her closet. "Then we must get ready. And I must get… presentable."