"Hmm." Victoria raised her eyebrows—more surprised than upset. "You know, I hadn't thought of that."

Hearing the interest — or, at least, the lack of usual condescension and dismissal — in his stepmom's tone, Max perked up. "You think it could work?" 

"I don't know," said Victoria, returning to her phone and hammering out a quick text. "But I know someone who might."

"Who?" Unable to keep from getting his hopes up at this point, Max took a step forward.

"You'll see," said his stepmother, moving her hand even closer. "Anyway, you gonna hop on, or am I gonna have to grab you?"

Seeing no other option, Max took another deep breath and climbed onto Victoria's hand. The experience of being held so effortlessly by someone so huge was profoundly surreal, especially because that someone was his own stepmother—and it got even more intense when she brought him up to eye level.

"Wow." Victoria chuckled. "That serum really did a number on you, huh?"

"Yeah," said Max, once again trying — and failing — not to stare at his stepmother's massive boobs. "I... y-yeah." 

Noticing how flustered her stepson was already getting, Victoria grinned. "Don't worry, sweetie. Mama's got you."

As Max opened his mouth to offer his usual response to that term — that Victoria wasn't his real mom and he always felt weird when she referred to herself like that — he realized he had a much bigger problem to contend with. While he'd assumed that his stepmother would continue carrying him in her hand, she now seemed to be lowering him right down her shirt—and before he could do anything to react, he found himself waist-deep in the smothering softness of the mature amazon's cleavage.

"Victoria!" Feeling his stepmom's huge, pillowy boobs pressing around him like a pair of big, warm hot air balloons, the three-inch-tall freshman blushed. He was used to Victoria flaunting her assets in his face, sometimes quite literally, but this was on a completely different level. "What the..."

"Don't get any funny ideas, mister," said Victoria, standing up and giving her chest a little jiggle to make sure she'd wedged him deep enough. "I just don't have good pockets in these pants." 

"O-okay, but..." By now, Max's face was beet red. "What if someone sees me in here?"

"Maybe they'll think I'm your girlfriend!" Stuffing her shrunken stepson even further down into her bra, leaving only his shoulders, neck and head exposed, Victoria winked. "I'm happy to play along if it makes you feel better." 

PRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPP

"What? I- ugh!" Again, before Max could react to his stepmother's overly-forward tendencies, her ass cut in with a word of its own—and as the aftermath of yet another giant fart began to waft up to his newfound perch in her cleavage, he couldn't help slipping into another fit of coughs and gags. 

"That sounds like a yes to me," Victoria giggled. "Now, off we go!"

*

Miraculously, Victoria managed to make it out of the Unaffiliated Students Dorm without running into a single student, parent or faculty member—which, for the three-inch-tall young man in her bra, was nothing short of a dream scenario. The idea of encountering anyone who might recognize him in his current condition was unimaginably humiliating—and as his buxom stepmom made her way out onto Ventus's central quad and toward the administrative building, he did his best to burrow even deeper down into her cleavage. 

"Whoa there, Romoeo!" Unable to resist another chance to tease her virginal stepson as she felt him struggling between her breasts, Victoria bit her lip. "Buy a girl a drink first, why don't you?"

"I'm not... this isn't..." Realizing this was just another of his stepmom's jokes, Max sighed. "Very funny."

"I thought so," Victoria chuckled.

Because it was a Saturday — a very warm and sunny Saturday, at that — the quad was positively humming with collegiate life. Several of the biggest, burliest girls in House Diana were playing an especially contact-heavy game of pickup football on one side of the green space; a study group of chubby, bespectacled Minervans were locked in a vocal argument about anime on the other side; a gaggle of House Fortuna girls were setting up some kind of expensive brunch spread in the center of the action; and at the farthest corner of the lawn, shaded by one of the quad's several oaks, an impromptu coven of Juno acolytes were muttering strange words over what appeared to be a summoning circle. Max could even make out a few Prosperpinans here and there, easily identifiable by their stain-covered clothes, greasy hair and bad skin, and no shortage of Unaffiliateds like himself.

Taking it all in from his stepmom's cleavage, the three-inch-tall freshman couldn't help reflecting on all the ways that college still had yet to live up to his expectations. Everywhere he looked, Ventus was overflowing with beautiful women—but so far, the only one who was willing to let him anywhere near her boobs was his own stepmom. He was still the same kissless virgin he'd been four weeks ago, and if he was really stuck like this forever, he wasn't feeling great about his odds of ever changing that. While he'd always felt invisible to members of the opposite sex before all this, now it felt like he didn't exist at all—and noticing the way that most of his fellow students were staring at his giant guardian didn't help. 

After years of modeling, Victoria was accustomed to being the center of attention. As she strode across the quad, she could feel the eyes of every young man (and more than a few young women) all over her—and, as usual, she loved every second of it. This had always been one of her favorite parts of her old job, and it was one of the only things she really missed now that she was retired. Seeing the unmistakable expressions of barely-concealed lust on so many of the faces around her, she couldn't help adding a little extra wiggle to her step—even though she knew it was going to be the equivalent of an earthquake for Max.

By the time the mature amazon finally stepped into the lobby of the administrative building, all that motion was making her shrunken stepson dangerously dizzy. The overwhelming sensation of having Victoria's big, jiggling jugs jostling him up and down was wreaking havoc on his hangover, and the overpowering smell of her boob sweat was making everything even worse. Still, as much as he wanted to get off this ride, he'd managed to make it this far without suffering through any awkward explanatory conversations about what he was doing in there—and he wasn't about to stop now. The only real downside, aside from the continued pressure and smell factor, was that he wasn't able to hear much of anything outside.

"Hello there," said Victoria, smiling down at the young woman behind the front desk—a mousy, bespectacled 4-foot-something blonde. "Victoria Vasquez-Calhoun, here for Beatrice."

"For Beatrice?" The receptionist frowned. "I mean, I can check, but she's usually pretty busy..." She hunched down over her laptop, hammering a few keys into some kind of internal scheduling app—and when she found what she was looking for, her eyes went wide. "What the... wow, okay, it looks like she cleared her whole afternoon."

"Excellent," said Victoria. "Where's her office?"

"I... I can show you," said the receptionist, clearly caught off-guard by this random woman's apparent importance to her boss. "Follow me."

"Thank you, dear," said Victoria, strolling past the desk and following the receptionist down a long wood-paneled hallway lined with portraits, and then up several flights of stairs. While this was happening, her tiny stepson remained nestled down in her cleavage, slowly but surely nodding off into a much-needed nap. The last few decades had been very good for Ventus, and it showed in how they'd decorated here—crystal chandeliers, oil paintings, marble busts and luxurious carpets, all representing just a tiny fraction of the school's multi-billion dollar endowment. Up the stairs and down another hallway, they arrived at a set of vast double doors. 

"Ma'am?" Stepping up to the doors, the receptionist raised her voice with cautious reverence. "Victoria, here to see you."

"Thank you, Flo," said a voice from within—deep, confident and feminine. "Send her in."

"Yes, ma'am," said Flo, opening both doors and beckoning Victoria through before silently closing them behind her.

The office inside was just as lavish as the rest of the building: a huge study with a large desk, several leather chairs and couches, a fireplace, at least two dozen shelves of books, and four floor-to-ceiling windows that offered an unrestricted view of the whole campus. It was here, by the windows, that the office's owner now stood, hands on her impossibly wide hips, looking out and surveying her domain. This was Beatrice "Queen Bea" Clydesdale, president of Ventus—and one of Victoria's oldest friends.

The last time the two women had gotten together in person had been almost two years ago—and while Bea seemed to have put on a bit of extra weight since then, she was still the same amazonian knockout she'd always been. Her warm brown skin, deep brown eyes and round, pretty face were all just as flawless as ever, though her rimless glasses and bun of silver hair made it clear that she was now closer to 50 than 40. With her usual crisp gray pinstripe suit, low-cut white blouse and black pumps, all clearly custom-made for her formidable 6'3" 320-pound frame, she was the picture of power and elegance—but that didn't stop her from stepping over to wrap Victoria in a super-sized hug.

"Tori!" Bea grinned. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"Oh, you know." Victoria smiled. "Just passing through."

"About time," said Bea, beckoning her friend over to the fireplace. "How's Izzy?"

"Still Izzy," sighed Victoria, settling on one of the couches. "Her new thing is becoming a 'streamer,' whatever that means." She rolled her eyes. "But her last big idea was running a weed-growing operation out of her bedroom, so I think we're making some progress."

"That sounds like her." As Bea joined her friend on the other couch, the reinforced woodwork creaked under her weight. "She's always been such a promising young woman. You'll have to give her my best." She shot Victoria a sly smirk. "And just for what it's worth, my offer still stands about getting her in here."

"Well, obviously I'd love that." Victoria shrugged. "Just a matter of getting her highness on board."

"Let me know when you do," said Bea, smirk growing. "People say I'm pretty good at getting my way."

"You don't have to tell me." Victoria chuckled. "Remember what happened the last time I came to visit?"

"How could I forget?" Bea licked her lips. "I don't think I've ever seen someone cum that hard."

"You set the bar pretty high," said Victoria, wiggling her eyebrows. "Can't say anyone's ever cleared it since." 

"Well," said Bea, eyeing her friend's chest just long enough for Victoria to notice. "Maybe we'll have to do something about that."

A moment passed in mutually-horny silence. Whenever the two friends got together, it almost inevitably ended in a night of steamy passion. Of course, this time, Victoria knew that her obligations to her stepson had to come first. "Maybe later."

"Alright," giggled Bea. "Suit yourself. How's your new husband doing these days?" 

"Your guess is as good as mine." Victoria shook her head. "I think I've only seen him about two weeks this year. Other than that it's Europe, Asia, Australia..." 

"Two weeks? He's got some nerve, leaving a woman like you all alone like that," scoffed Bea. "You've got a stepson, too, right? What was his name again? Mike?" 

"Max," said Victoria. "Believe it or not, he actually just started his freshman year here."

"Really?" Bea looked genuinely surprised. "You're joking."

"No joke," Victoria said, still seemingly more than a little skeptical herself. "But he's having some trouble adjusting."

"Oh?" Bea leaned forward. "What's the problem? Some girl?"

"Could be, now that you mention it," said Victoria, fishing down into her cleavage. "Here, it's probably easier if I just..."

By now, Max had managed to drift into a somewhat restless sleep, doing his best to shake off the effects of all the alcohol still working its way through his system in the safe, soft embrace of his stepmom's boobs. This made the sudden intrusion of Victoria's huge fingers into his fleshy prison all the more jarring, especially when they wrapped around his shrunken form and pried him out. All at once, he was overwhelmed with light and much-needed fresh air—and then, his surroundings came into focus.

"There we go," said Victoria, extending her sweat-soaked shrunken stepson toward her friend. 

"Well," purred Bea, sizing up the three-inch tall young man and grinning. "Would you look at that?"

Meeting the giant Black woman's hungry gaze, Max felt more uncertain than ever. If he'd known that Victoria was friends with the president of Ventus, he would have seriously thought twice about going here in the first place. 

"Max..." Victoria frowned. "Are you going to introduce yourself to Mama's friend, or what?"

"Huh? O-oh, sorry," stammered Max, offering a cautious wave to Bea. "H-Hi there, n-nice to meet you. I'm Max."

"Nice to meet you, too, Max. You can call me Bea." Bea chuckled. "How's the weather down there?"

"What?" Already feeling oddly inadequate in the presence of Ventus's famously domineering president, Max froze. "O-oh, uh... good?"

"Not the brightest bulb, eh?" Looking back up at Victoria, Bea grinned. "So, what can I do for you two?"