The further Victoria ventured into the depths of House Diana, the more that Max felt a powerful urge to burrow back down into the depths of her tank top. Surrounded by hot young people, mostly girls, and seeing the way they were all looking at his voluptuous stepmom — some surprised, others envious, many almost hungry — made him wish he could completely disappear. It was even worse whenever one of them noticed him.

"Whoa! A real-life shrunken guy!"

As yet another freshman — this one just as familiar as Nikki, but nearly a foot shorter — leered over Victoria's chest, Max couldn't help doing a double-take. While it was instantly clear that she'd already had a lot to drink, every aspect of her appearance remained as effortlessly perfect as ever—from her heavily made-up elfin face to her golden blonde hair, bright blue eyes and short but curvy figure. Noticing the trademark long-sleeved pink and white shirt, blue booty shorts, white thigh-high socks and designer sneakers that graced all of her uploads and livestreams, Max knew there was no mistaking her for anyone else. This was the "Size Queen Crystal," in the flesh.

"That's right," chuckled Victoria, giving her chest a little shake for the 18-year-old influencer's benefit. "I'm Tori, and this is Max."

"H-hey there," stammered Max, barely audible over the combined sounds of the kegger. After following Crystal online for most of his senior year of high school, he found it deeply surreal to be talking to her in real life—especially here and now, nestled in his amazonian stepmom's bra in the middle of his second-ever college party. "S-sorry, I'm sure you get this a lot, but I've been watching your videos since-"

"This so crazy!" Barely registering that Max was talking — let alone what he was actually saying — Crystal grinned up at Victoria. "Is it cool if I get a pic of you two?" 

"Sure!" Victoria shrugged, grinning back. "What do you think, sweetie?"

"Oh," said Max, not sure how he felt about the idea of a picture of him in his stepmom's cleavage going live to Crystal's millions of followers. "Maybe-"

Of course, by this point, Crystal was already moving to take the photo—and Victoria was already stooping down a little to ensure she got the entirety of her chest in frame. "Okay, smile!"

Blinded for a moment by the flash, Max sighed. If word hadn't started spreading around campus — and the world — about his sudden loss of size and newfound dependence on his stepmom, it certainly would be after this.

"Perfect," giggled Crystal, uploading the photo and pocketing her phone. "God, you guys are, like, SERIOUS couple goals! How'd you meet?"

"Us?" Victoria laughed. "I'm actually his stepmom." 

"Huh?" Crystal squinted. "How does that work?"

"Well... hmm." As Victoria prepared to summarize everything she and her newly shrunken stepson had been through over the last several hours, she felt a worrisome rumble in her stomach. "Oh, dear," she said, turning and scanning the room for the nearest bathroom. "Hold that thought."

"Mmkay," said Crystal, switching back to her phone to watch the likes pour in on her latest post and wandering off toward a nearby cluster of fellow Fortuna girls.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for Victoria to locate the ladies' room—and when she got inside, it was miraculously empty. "Phew," she said, hurrying into the furthest stall from the door and locking herself inside. "That was a close one, huh?"

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Before Max could ask his stepmom what she meant, her ass chimed in with a comprehensive explanation. All the tacos she'd enjoyed at lunch were clearly starting to catch up with her, and the gaseous results weren't pretty. In a matter of seconds, the whole stall smelled like a broken septic system full of rotten eggs—and if history was any guide when it came to Victoria and Mexican food, Max knew that she was only just getting started. 

"Hey," stammered Max, fighting through the urge to cough. "Do you, uh... did you come in here to take a..." 

"No, sweetie," said Victoria, shaking her head. "Otherwise I'd have my shorts off."

"Oh, good," said Max, unable to hide his relief. "So what's up?"

"What's up," sighed Victoria, "is that I came out here to party, and now I've got full-blown Taco Butt!"

Despite his stepmother's genuine distress, Max couldn't help cracking a smile. 'Taco Butt' was Izzy's childhood nickname for what happened whenever her mother had Mexican food—generally, 2-3 hours of heavy-duty farts followed by at least one heinous dump. Remembering the term's meaning and realizing that this was, in fact, one of the worst cases of Taco Butt he'd ever seen, he felt a profound and welcome sense of nostalgia. While he wasn't sure what that said about his relationship with his stepmother, he wasn't about to turn his nose up at any semblance of normalcy right now—even if it came in the form of some dumb family slang. "I guess you are exhibiting all the symptoms, now that you mention it. Shame we left my air purifier at home."

"Yeah." Picking up on her stepson's joke, Victoria returned his smile. Throughout Max's time in high school, her usual method of Taco Butt relief had been barging into his bedroom unannounced and letting loose directly into his personal air purifier—a device originally bought to help combat the constant odors that had started wafting in from the bathroom across the hall immediately after she and Izzy had moved in. "I guess I didn't realize how much we'd need it."

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Now facing down the combined force of two monster-strength Mexican MILF toots in a row, Max did his best to avoid showing any signs of visible discomfort. Inside, he felt like he was trapped in a hurricane of stink. Still, to ask the question he wanted to ask, he knew he wasn't going to do himself any favors by exhibiting his usual negative reaction to his stepmom's gas. "Well... in that case, maybe we could just head back to the dorm?"

"I don't know if that's really necessary," said Victoria, smile curling into a grin. "You might be onto something with the whole air purifier idea."

Max scowled. "You think someone around here has one?"

"I think," said Victoria, grin growing with every second. "That I'm looking at one right now."

Putting together what his stepmother was saying, Max went white. "You're joking, right?"

"Not at all," said Victoria, like whatever twisted scenario she was describing was the most reasonable thing in the world. "We used to do it all the time when I was modeling. There's a runway show in an hour, and you start getting bubble guts? Boom! Just stick a couple shrunken interns back there."

Max winced. "You used to put shrunken guys up your..." 

"Look, sweetie," said Victoria, grabbing her chest with both hands and giving her shrunken visibly uncomfortable stepson a reassuring squeeze. "I know I said I wanted to get you out of your shell tonight, but I could really use your help back there. Now, I'm not gonna pretend it's the most pleasant place in the world, but I've done it before, and it's perfectly safe." She chuckled. "Really, it's a lot safer than being in my bra, if you think about it. And I promise I'll make it up to you."

"How?" Max crossed his arms. Of course, he knew that he really didn't have a say in any of this, but in light of the sheer, unflattering realities of the situation, he was curious to see what he could get his stepmom to commit to.

"Max," said Victoria, plucking him out of her cleavage and winking. "Do you trust me, or not?"

Max sighed, unable to ignore the unspoken realities of his new relationship with Victoria. According to the pile of documents she and Bea had drafted up this afternoon, he was along for the ride for whatever his stepmom wanted to do—and at the moment, she wanted him in the back of her underwear. With that in mind, his best course of action seemed to be cooperating in the hopes of getting some brownie points—as unsettlingly literal as that term felt in this case. "I do."

"Good." Victoria smiled. "Now, in you go."

Without another word, before Max had any time to think of anything else to say, he found himself being brought behind his stepmother's back. He saw her other hand pulling back the elastic waistband of her shorts. Then, he was staring down into the mother of all ass cracks. "Whoa," he breathed, unable to contain his awe.

From his vastly diminished perspective, Victoria's ass was like two massive boulders—each capable of crushing him without a second thought. The space between them was an unfathomable chasm, and somewhere, deep down at the center, Max knew there was a huge, weapons-grade asshole capable of pumping out at least several dozen more Taco Butt farts. As much as he'd always had a fondness for bottom-heavy women, he had a feeling that his stepmom's big, round butt wouldn't be so pleasant once he got up close and personal—and he wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

A moment later, he was in—pressed down into the back of Victoria's underwear by her huge, gentle hands. Right away, it was hard not to contrast it with the suddenly familiar sensation of riding in his stepmom's cleavage. While her butt cheeks were significantly bigger and softer than her breasts, they were also a lot more smelly. Down in her crack, insulated by two layers of fabric, all the stink he'd been sampling up until now remained dangerously concentrated—and the heavy-duty quantity of ass sweat that Victoria had apparently worked up from walking around the cramped, humid house party only made it worse. Just a few seconds into his time on air purifier duty, he was already feeling dangerously woozy. 

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Right then, as if on cue, Victoria's asshole opened up to give him a small taste — and smell — of things to come. The resulting fart was the longest, loudest and stinkiest she'd cut so far today by far. As a concentrated gust of hot, humid stink billowed out into Max's face, he could feel his eyes watering, his throat and lungs burning, and his thoughts growing dim. With no other source of air, it wasn't like he could avoid breathing it in, either. When the blast finally stopped, some part of him felt genuinely surprised to still be alive—and even more terrified of his stepmom's raw, godlike power than ever before.

"Thanks for being such a good sport, sweetie," giggled Victoria, snapping her waistband back into place. "Mama owes you, big time!"

Finally, with her gas problem solved and her shrunken stepson secured, the mature amazon strolled confidently out of the bathroom and back out into the party—just in time to notice a crowd forming in the multipurpose room...