Hazel's New Ass-istant Shrunken First Semester chapter 7 by maximally

Faced with the combined attention of both giant young women, Max gulped. Even before he shrank, he’d never been good at high-pressure decision-making. His brain kept cycling through worst-case scenarios like a broken loading screen. Staying with Hazel meant putting his fate in the hands of the single most unhinged girl in a house full of them. But if she was telling the truth—if she actually knew how to reverse the serum—then maybe this was the fastest way back to his old life.

Spending days or weeks cooped up with a fetid, shameless gooner like Hazel wasn’t exactly his idea of a dream scenario. Still… it might also be his only realistic shot at a cure.

“I dunno,” he heard himself say, voice small. “I guess… Hazel?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Daisy’s face didn’t collapse all at once. It was worse than that. For a split second her expression stayed perfectly neutral—then something small and hurt flickered behind her tired brown eyes before she locked it down. Her massive shoulders shifted under the ratty t-shirt. She looked like she wanted to say something, then thought better of it.

“Huh,” Hazel said, smiling smugly. She reached out and plucked Max from Daisy’s palm like she was claiming a prize at a claw machine. “Woulda lost money on that, not gonna lie. Guess that’s your cue to beat it, D.”

“You’re sure about this, Max?” Daisy asked quietly, looking down at the three-inch-tall boy now dangling between Hazel’s fingers. She did her best to sound supportive, but the softness in her voice made something twist in his chest. “I’m with you either way. You can still change your mind.”

“Of course he’s sure!” Hazel grinned, already turning toward her chair. “Right, miniguy?”

“Y-yeah,” Max stammered, trying to sound confident and failing. “If it helps you figure this out faster… I don’t mind staying here for a bit.”

Daisy studied him for a long moment. Then she gave a small, resigned nod. “Okay. I’ll… come check on you later, alright?”

She turned for the door. Max watched the enormous curve of her back, the heavy sway of her hips, the way her sweatpants clung to every roll and crease. For one ridiculous second he wanted to call her back. The memory of her clumsy gentleness—wiping her own slime from his face, apologizing for marking him, offering to clean him up—felt suddenly very far away.

Hazel re-triggered the smart lock the second the door clicked shut.

“Looks like it’s just you and me now, miniguy,” she said, voice dropping into something lower and hungrier. She brought him up close to her face. Her breath smelled like stale energy drinks and something sweeter, muskier. “Gotta say… I didn’t think you’d actually pick me. That was brave. Or really fucking stupid. We’ll find out which.”

Max’s stomach dropped. Already he could feel the shift in the room. The air felt thicker. Hazel’s eyes had that glassy, predatory shine he’d only seen in the most unhinged corners of the internet.

“So, uh…” he tried, forcing a shaky smile. “What kind of tests are you thinking of doing first?”

Hazel’s smile widened until it showed too many teeth. “Well, there’s one problem I’m gonna need your help solving before we get into any of the sciencey stuff.”

Max’s tiny hands curled into fists. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” She licked her lips. “All this ass-eating talk has got me feeling really horny. And when I’m horny, I can’t focus on shit. So you’re gonna be my little research assistant.” She set him down on the edge of the desk and started peeling off her half-buttoned blouse and polka-dot sweatpants with zero ceremony. “First project: getting me off. Ass, or pussy?”

Max’s brain short-circuited at the sudden, overwhelming view of her naked body—soft belly, thick thighs, and the single hairiest, most unkempt pussy he’d ever seen in his life. The question didn’t even register at first.

“A-ass?” he blurted. “Wait—no, I mean…”

Hazel’s eyes lit up. “Ah-ah-ah. No take-backs.”

Before he could protest, her hand closed around him again. She brought him around behind her as she dropped into her gaming chair, spreading her thick cheeks with one hand. The heat hit him first—humid, swampy, overwhelmingly intimate. Then the smell: concentrated, unwashed ass funk, days of sweat and skin and things he didn’t want to name. It was so much stronger up close, trapped between the heavy globes of her ass.

Max barely had time to suck in one panicked breath before she pressed him face-first into the deep, sticky cleft. His tiny body sank into soft, yielding flesh. The further she pushed, the darker and hotter it got, until his face was mashed directly against the wrinkled, visibly dirty pucker of her asshole.

It was the single most disgusting thing he had ever touched.

Then it twitched.

PPPPPFPFPFFPFPFFFFRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

The fart exploded out of her with zero warning—long, wet, and devastatingly loud. A hot, sulfuric blast hammered straight into his face and open mouth. The taste hit him instantly: rotten eggs, spoiled meat, something chemical and wrong. His eyes watered so hard he couldn’t see. His lungs burned. He gagged and thrashed, but there was nowhere to go. Hazel’s cheeks clenched around him like a living vise, holding him exactly where she wanted him.

“Oooh, fuck yes,” Hazel moaned, already sliding her hand between her legs. “You like that, don’t you, miniguy? I can feel you squirming back there.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She just settled back into her chair, queued up a fresh tab of giantess scat hentai on one monitor and her serum research notes on another, and started lazily rubbing herself while the tiny freshman was hotboxed directly against her asshole.

The next two hours were a waking nightmare of gas, heat, and humiliation.

Hazel didn’t rush. She never rushed when she was gooning. She edged herself in long, lazy cycles while Max was subjected to a seemingly endless parade of farts—some short and vicious, others long, rumbling, and wet. Each one blasted over him in a fresh wave of eye-watering stench. His world narrowed to the slick texture of her pucker, the crushing weight of her cheeks, and the constant, rhythmic schlick-schlick-schlick of her fingers working between her thighs.

PPPRRRRPRRRPRPPTPPPTTTTTTT

PFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

PBBBBBLLLLLBLLLLLLRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTT

Every blast made him gag harder. His tiny cock, traitor that it was, stayed rock hard the entire time—whether from the overwhelming sensory overload, the sheer helplessness, or something darker he didn’t want to examine. Hazel noticed, of course.

“Aw, look at you,” she cooed during a brief lull, reaching back to grind him harder against her hole. “Getting all worked up from my farts. You’re even worse than I thought. Daisy’s gonna be so jealous when I tell her how much you liked being my little butt plug.”

Max wanted to scream that he didn’t like it. That he was terrified. That every breath was another lungful of her gas and he was starting to feel lightheaded. But every time he opened his mouth to protest, another hot blast of air forced its way in.

By the time Hazel finally pushed herself over the edge, Max was barely conscious.

Her orgasm hit like a freight train. Her whole body locked up. Her massive ass cheeks clenched around him with terrifying force. And then—

PPPPPFFBBFBFBFBBFBBBBBRBRBRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTT

The final fart was apocalyptic. Ten full seconds of pure, concentrated horror that rocked his tiny frame like a shit-scented hurricane. Max’s vision whited out. His ears rang. For one horrible second he was certain he was going to black out face-first against her asshole.

When Hazel finally relaxed, she was panting and giggling.

“Ooooh… holy fuck that was good.” She reached back with two fingers and carefully fished him out from between her cheeks. Max hung limply between her fingertips, soaked in sweat and worse, coughing so hard his whole body shook. “Good news and better news, miniguy.”

He could barely focus on her face. The room smelled like a battlefield of her gas. His lungs felt scorched.

“W-wha…?” he managed.

“Good news for me—I haven’t cum that hard in weeks.” She smirked, licking her fingers clean with obscene satisfaction. “Better news for you: I’m putting you on full-time booty duty until I get to the bottom of this serum thing.”

Max’s blood ran cold.

“W-what? No—no, I can’t stay back there! I’ll suffocate!”

“Nah, it’ll be fine,” Hazel said breezily, already turning back to her monitors and pulling up delivery apps. “I’ve got ideas. I’m not big on underwear, so the best solution is probably a custom 3D-printed butt plug. Something with a little harness or slot so you can sit right up against the action without getting crushed. I’ll have to print and test a few prototypes before we dive into the actual research, obviously.”

She said it like she was talking about optimizing a workflow. Max felt the last of his hope draining out of him.

After everything—Daisy’s surprising gentleness, the fragile safety he’d felt in her pocket, the way she’d actually apologized—he’d thrown it all away for this. For a girl who saw him as a living sex toy with bonus scientific value.

Hazel’s stomach let out a long, ominous gurgle.

“Sounds like the ol’ fart factory needs more ammo,” she said cheerfully, scrolling through menus. “Indian again, or Mexican? Actually… fuck it. Both it is. Extra spicy.”

Max groaned, the sound small and broken.

Somewhere down the hall, Daisy was probably sitting alone in her room, wondering if she should come back and check on him. He hoped she would.

He really, really hoped she would.

Because right now, pressed between Hazel Berry’s unwashed cheeks, Max was starting to understand exactly how badly he might have fucked up.