The Ravishing Ravi Shrunken First Semester chapter 3 by maximally

"What the..." Looking up at the giant Indian goth standing in the doorway, Max wasn't sure how to feel. Whoever this girl was, he'd never noticed her around campus before. If he had, even in passing, she would have left an impression.

She was relatively short for a member of House Juno, maybe 5'7" at most, and almost supernaturally bottom-heavy. Based on Max's limited understanding of bra sizes, she couldn't have been any bigger than an A cup — a far cry from the usual "big titty goth gf" stereotype — but whatever she lacked in the boob department was more than made up by her powerful legs, thick thighs, wide-set hips and heavy-duty booty. Taking in every inch of her tank-like curves, all barely constrained by her all-black outfit — a crop top, pleated skirt, thigh highs, choker, arm warmers and high-top Converse — the three-inch-tall freshman felt a strange blend of fear and arousal building in his gut. If she decided to bring that big, curvy rump down on top of him, she'd have no trouble squashing him flat. 

Scanning the girl's face, Max could feel himself getting even more flustered—and uncertain. Her big, soft lips were coated in a generous layer of shiny black gloss, her cute, elfin nose was accented with a silver septum ring, and when he finally got a glimpse of her bright brown eyes through the emo-style mop of shaggy black hair that hung down over the top half of her face, he saw that they were ringed by a copious quantity of black eyeliner. Even without "big tittys," she was a certified gothic hottie—which, given Max's sudden loss of size and historical tendency to clam up around cute girls, wasn't necessarily a good thing.

While the shrunken 18-year-old virgin had seen more than his fair share of attractive Juno members over the last few weeks, none had ever caught his eye like this girl. There was something about her that he just couldn't put his finger on—a mysterious quality that made him want to know more, even though he knew he could be putting himself in grave danger just by getting her attention. Then again, she wasn't Kali, Vanessa, or any of the other especially notorious Goth House goths he'd been hearing horror stories about since move-in day—and he had no interest in sticking around here until one of them showed up. 

"H-hello?" Even shouting at the top of his lungs, Max had no clue whether his voice would carry to the other side of the room. "C-can you hear me?"

Seeing the way the girl reacted — immediately stopping in her tracks and locking onto his perch on the coffee table — he reflexively winced. No matter what she ultimately decided to do with him, the sensation of getting stared down by someone twenty times his size was deeply unsettling. The mischievous twinkle in her eyes didn't exactly inspire confidence, either.

"Well, well, well." The giant goth took a few steps forward, flashing a row of sharp white teeth. Her voice was a little lower than Max had expected, but undeniably warm and sultry. "What do we have here?"

"H-hey there," stammered Max, remembering his own nakedness and blushing. As reassuring as it was to know that he could still communicate with a regular-sized person, it remained unclear whether communicating with this specific regular-sized person was a good idea—and between the breathy, playful way his would-be rescuer/tormentor had just greeted him and the trollish grin on her face, she seemed to be reacting like the world's biggest cat happening upon the world's smallest mouse. Of course, all he could do now was hope for the best. "I-I'm Max," he said, cupping both hands over his groin and offering a half-hearted nod of acknowledgment. "M-Max Calhoun. What's your name?"

"'Sup, Max." The giant goth returned his greeting with a peace sign. "I'm Ravi. Ravi Chandra."

"...Chandra?" Max froze. There was, quite infamously, at least one other Chandra in House Juno—the biggest, baddest, scariest goth of them all. "Y-you're not related to Kali, are you?"

"Yeah," said Ravi, stepping up to the coffee table—and giving the three-inch-tall freshman a tempting line of sight up her skirt. "She's my big sis. You know her?"

"Only by... reputation," said Max, declining any implied opportunity to peek at the giant goth's underwear. "I didn't realize she had a sister."

"She doesn't." Ravi chuckled. "I'm her brother."

"Huh?" Max squinted, looking back up and accidentally getting a clear glimpse at Ravi's lacy black panties—and the unmistakable outline of an absolutely monstrous cock. "But you're... wait..."

"I'm what?" Registering the familiar look of flustered confusion on the shrunken young man's face, the curvy sophomore grinned again. "And before you say it, no, I'm not trans. Or nonbinary. Or genderqueer."

"I... uh..." If Max had been having trouble speaking up until now, this was a completely different level of challenge. Whatever Ravi's deal was, it seemed like his chances of accidentally saying the wrong thing had just gone up by a thousand percent. At the same time, a curious musky aroma was starting to find its way down to his nose—something he'd only ever smelled before in his high school's locker room and on the not-infrequent days when his roommate Zeke decided to go without showering. "S-so, you're... a guy?"

"Yeah," said Ravi, reaching down to reposition his big, floppy dick. "I am. You got a problem with that?"

"N-no!" Max frantically shook his head. "Not at all! I just- I mean, I don't-"

"Good." Ravi's grin grew. "Then do me a favor and hold still."

Before Max could ask Ravi what he was holding still for, the giant goth stooped down to show him—grabbing the shrunken young man like a pint-sized action figure and bringing him around to the waistband of his skirt. Too stunned by the experience of being picked up to offer much resistance, the three-inch-tall freshman could only watch in awe and terror as the curvy sophomore's eye-catching butt got closer and closer. "W-wait... R-Ravi... you're not gonna..."

"Don't worry, dude," Ravi chuckled. "You're almost there." 

A second later, sure enough, Max made contact with Ravi's rump—forced rather unceremoniously down the mischievous femboy's skirt and into the crack of his big, doughy ass. Right away, the crushing pressure of his huge, soft cheeks and the overpowering smell of sweat, butt funk and musk was almost too much to bear—and while Max tried to remind himself that this still beat getting stuffed into the front of Ravi's underwear, it was hard to find much genuine comfort in that thought. For all his teenage jerk-off fantasies of getting up close and personal with bottom-heavy college goths, he'd never imagined — or hoped for — anything like this. 

"There we go," said Ravi, hiking his skirt back into position with a satisfied shake and stepping back toward the door. "Comfy?"

With no way of getting Ravi's attention from his perch between the giant goth's cheeks, Max did his best to convey his displeasure by struggling—but the more resistance he offered, and the more his captor started moving, the more unpleasant his whole situation got. Jostled deeper and deeper with every second, he quickly ended up face to face with the big, playful femboy's big, pillowy asshole—a giant, puckering maw easily three times the size of the shrunken young man's head. Then, just when Max was certain his morning couldn't have gotten even worse, it did.

prrrrrtttttttt

"Whoopsie!" Feeling Max's struggles intensifying, Ravi bit his lip. "Not a fart guy? That's too bad."

Ironically, the giant goth's latest fart was relatively small by his usual standards—but for Max, it was still nothing short of a force of nature. Trapped with his face pressed right up against Ravi's rancid pucker, the three-inch-tall young man had no choice but to inhale as much of the giant femboy's noxious fumes as he could. Just one lungful was enough to make him violently dizzy—and if the ominous rumbles of his captor's digestive system were any indication, this was just the beginning.

While this was happening, Ravi made his way out of the common room and out into the hall—increasingly unable to conceal his mounting arousal. Compared to the hand-me-down shrunken guys he occasionally stole from Kali, the freshman in his ass still had plenty of energy. This wasn't another dead-eyed bug who'd already had the spirit crushed, squeezed, sucked and fucked out of him—and the idea of heading back to his room to start testing his new toy's limits was very, very tempting. So was the idea of hitting up one of his usual female playmates to help him handle the growing problem under his skirt.

Then again, the house's policies regarding "unclaimed tinies" were pretty clear. Whenever one was found, they were to be taken to the closest high-ranking Juno member—generally either Alexandra Ventus or Kali. And when it came to breaking in shrunken guys, his sister was always full of good ideas.