"Well," said Hazel, idly slipping a hand back down to her still-dripping sex. "How much do you know about chemistry?" 

Watching his giant naked captor starting to go to town on herself again, Max made no effort to conceal his involuntary arousal. "N-not much?"

"Okay," said Hazel, noticing her shrunken assistant's boner and smirking. "Lemme put it this way, then. The serum you got dosed with is designed to respond to two different categories of supplemental chemicals. You following so far?"

"Yeah?" While Max appreciated having this broken down in relatively simple terms, he could have done without Hazel's condescending tone.

"Good. So, with those supplements. First, there's the ones that tweak the physiological effects of the original. They can make you bigger, smaller, more durable, stuff like that, but they're also pretty hard to get right." The buck-toothed nerd grinned. "And then there's the ones that tweak the psychological effects."

"The psychological effects?" Max wasn't sure he liked the sound of this but was undeniably curious to hear more. "Like what?"

"Like..." said Hazel, still idly coaxing herself toward another orgasm. "Well... historically, being a miniguy is kind of a raw deal. Most guys aren't exactly willing volunteers, and it's usually pretty dirty work." She giggled. "I guess you probably know that better than I do, though."

"Yeah," sighed Max, his nostrils still clogged with the smell of his captor's ass and pussy. "I... yeah."

"Anyway..." Hazel continued, "With psycho-serums, the idea is to make things more... enjoyable for the guy getting dosed."

Max swallowed hard. Knowing Hazel's definition of "enjoyable" involved staying holed up in her room, gooning herself silly for days on end, this statement didn't exactly inspire confidence in whatever alternative plan she was about to propose. "H-how does that work?" 

"Mostly pheromones," said Hazel, pulling her hand away from her sopping wet pussy and licking her fingers before sticking it right back. "Adjusting your body's... natural responses when you're exposed to certain parts of mine. Total walk in the park compared to modifying cellular growth patterns."

Max winced. "'Certain parts,' meaning..."

"Oh, you know. Sweat... spit... shit... pussy juice..." With every word, she seemed to be getting closer and closer to cumming. "I guess... in your case... the best trigger... would probably be..."

BBBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP

Pushing herself to another messy climax, the chubby gooner filled her room with yet another blast of spicy butt-wind. As usual, the smell was more than enough to send Max into another coughing fit, crumpling into a quivering heap on her desk. Even if he did get back to normal someday, he had a feeling he'd never get the smell of Hazel's ass all the way out of his nose.

"Geez, miniguy," Hazel panted, "these fresh air breaks really kill your tolerance, huh?"

Struggling not to gag on his captor's rancid fumes, Max was still stuck on her previous statement. "Wh-what were you going to say before? About the best trigger for me?"

Hazel snorted. "Do I have to spell it out for you? My farts!"

Max froze. "A serum to make me..." He grimaced. "Enjoy your farts?"

"Precisely!" Hazel grinned. "How cool is that?"

"Uh..." Max hesitated, unsure how to talk himself out of this without ending up back in Hazel's ass any sooner than necessary. "I mean, that's definitely one idea. What about growing me back?"

Hazel snorted. "We could try that. But it'd take at least another month or two." She hammered a few quick calculations into her keyboard and frowned at the results. "Scratch that... probably more like eight or nine. And even if we end up with a viable formula, there's no guaranteeing it works. You're talking about creating a supplementary serum that actively goes against the number one effect of the primary serum. Not exactly the easiest thing to nail on the first try."

Unsure whether Hazel was telling the truth, Max frowned. Realistically, he knew there was a decent chance she had already made up her mind and was just trying to justify her decision to him. Of course, it was going to take more than a few good excuses to make him forgo a shot at returning to normal in favor of a life as her live-in butt plug.

"Okay," said Max, feeling strangely uncomfortable pushing back on the wishes of his giant captor. "I mean, that's fine; I can wait. If that's what it takes to get me back to normal." 

"Look, miniguy..." For a moment, Hazel almost looked apologetic. "I'm trying to let you down gently here. Based on these numbers, there's a ninety percent chance we go through a whole year of this, and nothing happens."

"S-seriously?" Max's heart sank. "But last weekend, you told Daisy..."

"That was before I knew what serum we were dealing with." Hazel shook her head. "Most of them are pretty basic. But this stuff's a whole different breed of cat."

Slumping to his knees, Max just barely resisted the urge to burst into tears. If Hazel was serious, and it sure sounded like she was, this was his life now—and there was no going back any time soon, if ever. "Oh..."

Seeing the three-inch-tall freshman's clear distress, Hazel sighed. "Ah, c'mon, miniguy! Look on the bright side! I might not be able to get you back to normal... but normal's overrated, anyway!" She smiled—noticeably warmer and less depraved than usual. "Just for what it's worth, you're the best assistant I've ever had. I mean, no one's ever made me cum harder than you have. And I'd be more than happy to try and make you a little more comfortable back there."

At the word "comfortable," Max flinched. "B-by making me have a thing for your farts?"

Hazel shrugged. "I mean, that's just one idea. I'm not married to it... but it probably wouldn't take more than a couple of days to throw something together. Seems like a pretty easy win-win to me." Wiggling her eyebrows again, the giant gooner drew her smile into another grin. "I mean, if I was in your shoes right now, and a giant hot girl offered me a chance to spend the rest of my life getting off with her... this conversation would be over."

Max forced a smile. Hazel wasn't bad-looking by any stretch, definitely closer to his type than not. But "hot" was far from the first adjective he'd use to describe a girl who spent most of her time sprawled out in a gamer chair with skid marks on the seat cushion, rubbing her clit to the most depraved porn the internet had to offer. And that wasn't even touching her various odors—or the warzones she regularly made of the dorm's toilets. Any future where he spent the rest of his life in her care was far from a best-case scenario. Then again, from where he stood right now, there didn't seem to be many viable alternatives.

"So," said Hazel, "whaddaya say?"