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

"Wait!" Feeling his Siberian amazon rescuer 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..."

"You are flustered," 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 girl's equally giant booty. "Ursa! I-"

"You are excited, da?" Ursa chuckled. "Good. Almost there." A second later, the giant sophomore 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 Max's three-inch-tall body in with the other, she sealed him head-first into yet another hot, dark, foul-smelling crevice. Right away, Max could tell that 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. Part of him was surprised that her powerful haunches hadn't already crushed him into dust—although he could certainly feel all the pressure they were exerting on him.

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 going through four to five of these shakes a day on top of regular meals. The only downside of this regimen was that it tended to leave her feeling pretty gassy—not that she minded, of course, since this often had the unintended benefit of clearing out the weight room when she went to lift.

Meanwhile, with every step she took, her shrunken passenger found himself forced further and further into her ass. In a matter of minutes, he'd gone 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 Max's face.

Obviously, Ursa was a big girl. Max had no illusions about that or the kind of smells that a girl her 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.

Soon, the Siberian amazon was alone—except for her shrunken passenger, of course. Cracking her knuckles and taking one more sip of her shake, she sat down at 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, 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. As her breakfast worked its way through her system, they only seemed to get bigger, smellier, and more constant.

PPPPRRRRRTTTTTTTT

PPPPFFFFFFFFRRRRRTTTTTTTT

PPPPFFFFFFFFFFFOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTT

Every time 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 at best, and the few thoughts he had were very, 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 anus after every fart, 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 this point, Max was coated head to toe in a mix of sweat and butt funk. He felt sure his sense of smell was irreparably broken, and he felt genuinely sure that 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 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 football 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 sweat 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 Siberian amazon giggling in his face, Max forced a smile. "T-thanks?" 

Ursa grinned. "Not compliment. But I will 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." Without further ado, she returned her shrunken passenger to his place between her cheeks, jostling her shorts up to secure him into position and giving him another playful clench. "Much better. Now..."