Absent-Minded Maddie Shrunken First Semester chapter 3 by maximally

 

"Maddie?"

 

Max couldn't believe his luck. Of all the girls to find him like this, Maddie was probably the best-case scenario. At a school like Ventus, the blonde-haired, green-eyed, freckle-faced stoner often felt like a one-woman island of normalcy—and while the two of them hadn't spoken much beyond small talk, he knew she'd never mean him any harm. Most of the time, her vibe was that of a friendly neighbor whose house you could stop by whenever you needed to borrow something. Especially if that something happened to be weed.

 

Unfortunately, the Maddie standing before him still seemed to be sleeping off the effects of one of her usual late-night smoking binges—and judging by the unmistakable tint in her eyes, she'd already decided to extend that binge into this morning. A faint haze of skunk followed her into the room, and when she glanced over at the coffee table, she didn't seem to register his presence at all. Instead, he saw her tired, bloodshot eyes settle on a pack of rolling papers on the couch behind him.

 

"Hey, Maddie!"

 

At the sound of his voice, Maddie seemed totally unfazed. Only then did Max notice the AirPods in her ears.

 

"Fuck," he sighed, shaking his head. So far, his neighbor wasn't exactly making this easy for him.

 

Maddie didn’t even glance his way as she lumbered past the coffee table, making a beeline for the couch. Her faded green USD sweatshirt hung off her shoulders, and her loose brown sweatpants barely contained the soft, jiggling curves underneath. Every step sent a ripple through her chubby body, and if Max hadn’t been so desperate to get noticed, he might have just sat back and enjoyed the show.

 

Shouting was useless, so Max realized he needed to get back in Maddie’s line of sight. He eyed the coffee table—it was angled perfectly. He sprinted across the wood, gathered his courage, and leapt the half-inch gap to the couch—a jump that, at his size, felt like crossing a canyon.

 

He landed on the couch with a soft thud, quickly scrambled up, and sprinted across the cushion toward the rolling papers. But before he could get there, Maddie’s massive hand snatched them up, blocking his path. Then her body shifted, casting a huge, butt-shaped shadow right over him as she prepared to sit.

 

"N-No... Maddie, WAIT-"

 

In an instant, Max was smothered under Maddie’s enormous ass. For a guy who’d never even kissed a girl, being trapped under a giant butt was both a dream and a nightmare. The pressure, the heat, the overwhelming stoner-girl funk—every sense was assaulted at once, and Max wasn’t sure if he should be excited or terrified.

 

Even though his initial instinct was panic, he forced himself to remain calm. Once Maddie realized what was really happening, he knew she'd do everything she could to help him out. The only question was how long that would take, and how much more unpleasantness he'd have to endure until then. The muffled overhead rumbling of her digestive system wasn't reassuring.

 

 

Everyone on Max’s floor knew Maddie’s digestive system was basically a biohazard. She could clog a toilet or clear out an elevator without breaking a sweat, and the hallway always reeked of weed and rotten eggs. For most people, it was just a gross inconvenience. For Max, right now, it was a full-blown disaster. Maddie’s ass let rip, blasting him with a fart so strong he was left coughing and gasping, eyes watering in the stifling cloud.

 

"Ugh," groaned Maddie, shifting around on the couch and unintentionally grinding Max even deeper into her ass. "the fuck did I eat last night?"

 

"Fuck," groaned Max, "could you PLEASE notice me?"

 

Max screamed himself hoarse, but it was pointless. Maddie was either too baked, too tired, or just had her music cranked up way too loud—she didn’t notice a thing. He might as well have been invisible.

 

Luckily, Maddie didn’t stay put for long. She finished rolling her joint, set it down, and stood up—lifting Max with her as the cushion disappeared beneath him. Stomach lurching, Max instinctively grabbed at the folds of Maddie’s sweatpants, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around the fabric to hold on.

 

"Whoa, shit..."

 

Now he was dangling in midair, Maddie totally oblivious to the tiny passenger clinging to her butt. She shuffled toward her room, and Max’s world bounced and swayed with every step—like riding a mechanical bull made of pure ass. If she noticed him, it’d be mortifying, but if he let go, he’d be toast.

 

After a minute of white-knuckle hanging, Maddie finally made it to her bedroom. The door swung open, and Max was hit with a wall of stink—stale pizza, farts, and enough weed to knock out a rhino. He’d always suspected Maddie was a slob, but seeing her room up close was a whole new level of disaster.

 

Maddie had scored one of the only single rooms in the dorms, and she’d made the most of it. The walls were covered in trippy posters and magic-eye prints, every surface was buried under pipes, baggies, and lighters, and the floor was a landfill of dirty clothes and greasy takeout boxes. If there was a stoner girl starter kit, this was it.

 

As Maddie stepped inside and hip-checked the door shut, Max had to brace himself to keep from falling once again. His heart skipped a beat as he realized where she was headed—the giant beanbag chair in the middle of the room. If she sat down, he’d be right back under her ass, and this time, it might be for hours.

 

"HELP!"

 

Of course, Max's cries for help had no effect. Maddie remained totally oblivious.

 

"Uhhhhhggggh," he groaned. "Fuck me..."

 

Maddie finally reached the chair and spun around to sit. Only then did Max realize he might have a shot at escape. If he timed it just right, he could drop onto the beanbag and scramble out of the danger zone before Maddie’s ass landed. But if he messed up, he’d be squashed—or worse.

 

Was it worth the risk?