"No," Max whimpered, instinctively taking a step back. "No, no, no, no..."
Of course, he knew there was no mistaking the ogre-like young woman in the doorway for anyone else. In a sorority filled with big, slobby, horny shut-ins, Daisy "Buttzilla" Flores was the biggest, slobbiest, and, allegedly, the horniest shut-in of them all.
While Max had never seen the infamous junior before, she matched all the rumors he'd heard during orientation—6'4" and easily 375 pounds, with a pronounced gut, watermelon-sized breasts, big, tree-trunk-like legs, and an ass that was at least three feet wide. The only thing that didn't measure up to the hype was her face. Even in dirty gray sweatpants crusted with stains of unknown origin, a matching ratty t-shirt and flip-flops, with eyes that radiated sleep deprivation and waist-length hair that looked like it hadn't seen the inside of a shower in weeks, she was much better looking than he'd been led to believe. Putting aside the generous quantity of acne on her face, her round, warm features, big brown eyes, tan skin, and dark brown hair would make her undeniably cute if she ever decided to put any effort into her appearance. Not that this did much to temper the mounting feeling of fear in the three-inch-tall freshman's gut—or the harsh, eggy aroma beginning to waft down to his nose. This, too, matched her reputation as the single worst-smelling person on campus.
If the legends about Daisy were true, Max had every reason to be legitimately afraid for his life. All he could do now was hope that she left without noticing him—although he had a feeling that being stuck on the coffee table in the center of the room made him pretty hard to miss. His only alternative was making a mad dash under the nearest couch, assuming the initial drop to the floor didn't break both of his legs. Then again, maybe that was preferable to getting on the giant horny shut-in's radar.
"Oh my gosh..."
Hearing Daisy speak, in a voice far softer than expected, Max swallowed hard. Then, before he could beg for mercy, she was upon him—waddling over to the table, snatching him up in one of her huge grimy hands and frantically pressing him down into the front of her sweatpants. With his face suddenly full of the hulking young woman's vast, hairy, sweaty, slimy pussy, it quickly dawned on him that everything he'd heard about Buttzilla was just the tip of the iceberg. In a matter of seconds, he was covered head-to-toe in her juices, and his nose was filled with her overpowering scent.
"Please," Max sputtered, doing his best to keep from literally drowning in pussy. He'd spent hundreds of hours fantasizing about his "first time" with a girl, but he'd never imagined it would be anything like this. "Let me go..."
Of course, there was no way Daisy could hear him. Buried as he was under several hundred pounds of sweaty curves, he might as well have been a bug. The closest thing he got to an answer was when she withdrew her hand from her sweatpants, leaving him clinging to her monstrous vagina for dear life. Thankfully, he found plenty of pubic hair to grab onto—and while the combined sensory barrage of the whole experience was already making him want to vomit, he knew he had no other choice but to hang on. Because his giant captor wasn't wearing any underwear, there was nothing else to keep him from falling down one of her pant legs.
As Daisy stepped out of the common room, she did her best to act natural. The few dorm mates she saw in the hallway greeted her with the usual blend of apathetic recognition and simmering horniness, and she responded in kind. Because she was one of the most physically imposing members of the house, she knew she wouldn't have to worry about any serious hassling on the way back to her room—but if the rest of her dorm mates found out about her new shrunken friend, he wouldn't be so lucky. In House Proserpina, it was dangerous enough being an unattended male at regular size.
"Hey, Buttzilla. When are you gonna let me eat that ass?"
"Sup, B-Z. I just got a new vibrator. You wanna come help me test it out?"
"Yo, Flores! You around tonight? Just torrented this crazy new hentai series."
While Daisy rarely responded to these kinds of advances, she felt especially disinterested today. Right now, the only thing on her mind was getting the young man in her pants back to her room in one piece before he fell out or her hormones got the better of her—and based on how good his struggles felt against the most sensitive part of her body, she knew that would be much easier said than done. Nevertheless, she forced herself to press on down the hall.
A minute later, just as Max's consciousness was beginning to fade, he found himself being pulled out of the humid, slimy confines of Buttzilla's crotch. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized they were back in her room. None of what he saw was reassuring.
Perhaps due to House Proserpina's reputation as a haven for repulsive losers of all stripes, most of the sorority's dorms were singles. Daisy's was no different. A space roughly the size of Max's double in the Unaffiliated Students' Dorm, the room featured an improvised king-sized bed made of two full beds pressed together, a nightstand overflowing with lube bottles and sex toys, a desk visibly sagging under the weight of an aging PC, two monitors and several dozen anime figurines, and a floor covered in dirty clothes, more sex toys, empty chip bags, snack wrappers, pizza boxes and delivery containers. Every inch of wall space was covered with at least two layers of prints and posters, too—from Rogue the Bat dangling a pint-sized Sonic over her mouth, to a giant-sized Tifa Lockhart squatting over Cloud Strife and unleashing a big, green cloud of gas, to a city-sized Falco from Star Fox cumming all over downtown Manhattan.
Worse than all of this, of course, was the smell. While Max was glad to be free from the embrace of Buttzilla's hungry pussy, her fetid den wasn't much better. The whole space stank of farts, sex and stale food, and the windows looked like they hadn't been opened in years. It was like her room had its own swampy microclimate, a 20-by-20-foot jungle where he was now trapped. Then, all at once, the room got noticeably warmer—and stinkier.
BBBBBBRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP
As a fresh gust of eggy air found its way up to Max's nose, he winced. Buttzilla had just farted, and it was the single worst thing he had ever smelled in his life. Her gas was a force of nature, washing over him like a tidal wave, totally overpowering his physical and psychic defenses and leaving him coughing and gasping for breath. His only solace was the fact that she'd apparently waited until he was free from her crotch to let loose.
"S-sorry about that, little guy." As the massive shut-in brought her shrunken captive up to eye level, she almost looked embarrassed. "Just didn't want anyone else seeing you out there. I'm Daisy. What's your name?"
Face to face with Buttzilla, Max froze. After everything this girl had just put him through, he had no reason to let his guard down. The only question now was how he'd get out of here—although he was still too paralyzed with fear to give that much serious thought.
"Oh!" Noticing the thin layer of slime still covering most of Max's body, Daisy blushed. "Here, let me..." Reaching forward with her other hand, she gently smeared away a large clump of vaginal secretions from the top of his head. Then, she carefully set the shrunken freshman down on her nightstand.
Back on his own two feet, surrounded by huge, funky-smelling sex toys, Max finally snapped out of his frozen stupor. "D-Don't eat me! Please!"
"Eat you?" Seeing the unmistakable look of fear in Max's eyes, Daisy frowned. "Why would I ever..." She sighed. "I don't know what you've heard about me, but I'm not some kind of... monster." At this last word, her voice dropped to a note of apparent insecurity—like she was all too aware of how everyone else at Ventus saw her and wasn't happy about it.
"But... " Max couldn't believe what he was hearing. The idea that Daisy had any reservations about her larger-than-life persona went against everything he thought he knew about her. "You... you put me in your..." Unable to form the words without turning bright red, he simply nodded toward the front of her sweatpants.
"I mean, yeah," said Daisy, blushing again. "Y-you know how girls are in this dorm, right?"
Max nodded. The last fifteen minutes had done nothing to shake his perceptions of House Proserpina as a den of unimaginable depravity. "I... do? But, like... couldn't you have just put me in your pocket or something?"
"Well, I, uh..." Daisy's eyes went to the floor. "That's kinda the rules in here."
"The rules?" Max blinked. "About what?"
Daisy blushed redder than ever. "Whenever a guy comes into the dorm, the only way to call dibs on him is to... scent him."
Max's eyes went wide. "What?"
"You know." Daisy took a deep breath, clearly trying to steady her nerves. "Cover them with our... smell. That way, if any other girl runs into you, they'll know you're mine." Seeing Max's eyes getting even wider, she smiled nervously. "Not that you're like, mine. Just, like, they can't mess with you." Again, she sighed. "I'm sorry. I know this is all super weird and pervy."
"It's..." Between the overpowering smell of Daisy's den, the lingering feeling of disorientation from being pressed against her vagina, and the frankly bizarre explanation she was in the process of laying on him, Max was totally bewildered. Still, as disgusted and freaked out as he was, the last thing he wanted to do was piss off the only person in the whole house who apparently didn't want to turn him into a living sex toy—assuming she was even telling the truth. "It's fine. M-my name's Max, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, Max." She smiled. "I think we got off on the wrong foot here... maybe I can make it up to you?"