When Max woke up, everything was black. It took him a moment to realize why. Despite all the farts Ursa had let loose over the last dozen-odd hours, he was still right where she'd left him last night: not just in her ass, but up it. Between the constant crushing pressure of the giant sophomore's equally giant rectum and the total lack of breathable air inside, it seemed like a genuine miracle he was still alive. Of course, that thought did little to offset the sheer physical discomfort of being stuck down here.

Reflecting on the previous day's events, the shrunken freshman knew he was still relatively lucky. After waking up naked in the Jock House's common room with zero memory of his first big college party, he'd had the immense good fortune of being found by the dorm's single biggest resident—who had ended up being every bit the gentle giant he'd hoped her to be. Now, with enough firsthand insight into the unexpected dangers and downsides of being three inches tall to last a lifetime, he was well aware that he'd probably avoided dozens of far worse fates than whatever he was currently dealing with. But, again, that didn't change the fact that he was literally up someone's ass—even if that ass belonged to a very sexy, if slightly intimidating, girl his age.

While Max had absolutely zero frame of reference for how long he'd been down here, a few sudden movements from his giant guardian suggested that his torment was nearing its end. As his whole prison suddenly shifted 180 degrees, he deduced that Ursa was awake and out of bed. A few subsequent shuffling movements later, she shifted back into a seated position. Then, all at once, he was hit with a wave of thoroughly unexpected force. 

BBBBRBRBPPPLLLLAAPPPPPPPPPP

"Hmm." As Ursa settled her powerful hips onto her neighbor's toilet, she couldn't help feeling like she was forgetting something. "Min?" 

"Yeah?" Registering the giant Russian sophomore's call through the door to her bedroom, the hulking Chinese junior shouted back. "Am I out of toilet paper again?"

BBBBRBBBRBRBRBPPPLLLLLLLLAAPPPPPPPPPP

"Nyet," said Ursa, shifting her hips as she continued letting loose on the toilet. "We have meet today, yes? For the wrestling?"

"Yeah," said Min. "I think today it's LMU."

"LMU?" Ursa groaned. What Yale was to Harvard and UC Berkeley was to Stanford, Lady's Mount University was to Ventus—and much of their rivalry was centered around the two schools' wrestling teams. "Blyat. Was hoping for easy day."

"Seriously," said Min, shaking her head.

BBBBRBBBRBBBRBRBPPPLLLLLLLLLAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPP

As the two teammates started shit-talking various members of the LMU wrestling team, Max was dealing with a much more literal kind of shit. While it stood to reason that a girl who ate as much as Ursa would have some nuclear-strength bowel movements, nothing could have prepared him for being on the receiving end of one. After being forced out into the toilet along with the Siberian amazon's first big log of the day, the three-inch freshman now found himself trapped in the world's most nightmarishly disgusting game of Tetris, scrambling from one side of the bowl to another to dodge everything that followed. Unfortunately, so far, he was zero for three.

BBBBRBBBRBBBRBRBRBRBPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

"Is away," grunted Ursa, squeezing out a fourth and final brick of shit. "Or home?"

"It's here, thank god," said Min. "I mean, it's like a seven-hour bus ride up to Storm Valley, so we'd probably have a hotel or something if it was there."

"Ah. Good." With her business finished, Ursa grabbed an entire roll of toilet paper and started wiping. "Apology for smell."

"You're good," Min chuckled. "That toilet's seen worse, trust me. I just hope Max doesn't mind."

"Max?" Finally realizing what she'd forgotten, Ursa ran a hand through her hair. "Cyka blyat..."

"You didn't know?" Min put a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. "Ohmygod, I thought you knew!"

When Ursa stood up and turned around, she couldn't resist a smile. Sure enough, cowering on the one side of the toilet bowl that wasn't filled with shit, there was Max. The fact that her dump was easily five or six times his size made him look even more comically pathetic than usual—like a tiny gladiator trapped in an arena with some kind of enormous stinky monster. "Good morning, Max," she said, chuckling in spite of herself. "Apology, for this."

When the three-inch freshman saw his giant guardian, he did his best to force a smile back. While this was, quite easily, the grossest thing he'd ever experienced in his entire life, the fact that Ursa had noticed him meant that he'd just avoided an even worse fate—getting flushed into the Jock House's septic system. "Ursa! H-hey!"

"Hey," said Ursa, blushing a little as she plucked her shrunken friend out of the bowl and brought him over to the sink. "Forgive me. I forgot you were... how you say, along for ride."

"Relax, dude," said Min, still listening in amusement from the other room. "He's a shrunken guy! They live for kinky shit like this!" 

Inside the bathroom, Ursa was already too busy lathering Max up with soap and water to respond. "You are lucky," she said, forcing another chuckle to inject some levity into a very awkward situation. "This was small one, for me. If big one... you are maybe not so lucky."

"It's... it's alright," said Max, resisting the urge to shudder as he tried to imagine the "big" version of such a bowel movement. From his diminished perspective, each of the logs she'd left in the bowl beside the sink was already the size of a bus. "I know it was an accident."

"Yes. Is nice of you to say." Ursa shook her head, rinsing the three-inch freshman off and wiping him down with a hand towel. "Will not happen again." She paused, then cracked another smile. "Unless... you like?"

"Me?" While no part of Max had liked being stuck in the middle of Ursa's morning dump, he could feel his face getting hot from sheer humiliation. "N-no, of course not."

"Was only joke," said Ursa, smile growing. "You are funny, miniaturnyy."

Too flustered to respond, all her shrunken friend could do was sigh.

As the Siberian amazon stepped back into the bedroom, Min looked up and grinned. Even with a face full of smudged makeup and sweat, she still radiated sex appeal and confidence. "Mornin', Max. Sounds like you went for a swim?"

"M-morning, Min," said Max, blushing harder than ever. "I-I guess that's one way to put it."

"See," said Min, nodding to Ursa. "I told you he liked it!"

"Very funny," said Ursa, looking down at Max and smiling again. To her neighbor's point, he did look awfully worked up. "No man is ass man this much. I think."

"You'd be surprised." Min wiggled her eyebrows. "One time, I was hooking up with this Loser House girl... you remember Summer Perkins, right?"

"Blonde amerikanskiy?" Ursa pursed her lips. "She used to wrestle, no?"

"Yeah," said Min. "She got kicked out of Diana last year for some kinda hygiene violation. Anyway, I was eating her ass, and then her pervy little roommate came in and started eating my-"

"No more ass talk for now," said Ursa, stepping over to the pile of clothes she'd left beside the bed. "Is time for breakfast."

"Alright, alright. I guess I hit a nerve." Rolling out of bed and slinking up beside her Russian playmate, Min planted a gentle kiss on the back of her neighbor's neck. "Sorry." 

"Is fine," said Ursa, shivering a little despite the room's intense humidity. "Now, we go?"

"Sure," said Min, grabbing a pair of yoga pants and a tank top from her closet. "We go."

*

In keeping with their usual game day routine, the two amazons started the morning in the cafeteria. Meanwhile, Max was safely stowed away back in Ursa's underwear—which, after the torture of spending a night up her ass and the terror of being trapped under a literal avalanche of shit, was like going back to the warm embrace of an old friend. He wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that he'd been reduced to thinking in these terms, but once again, he knew that he could have it a whole lot worse.

PPPPPRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT

As the shrunken freshman absorbed another blast of heavy-duty stink from his giant guardian's asshole, he grimaced. Even after the two full rolls of toilet paper Ursa had gone through in her neighbor's bathroom before they'd left for the gym, the smell factor down here was still considerable—and, as always, her farts weren't helping.

"Geez, dude!" Min laughed, waving a hand in front of her face. "I figured you'd be all tapped out after a paint job like that."

"Paint... job?" Ursa squinted. "What is?"

"That monster shit you left in my toilet," said Min, sounding equally amused and impressed. "That ass really isn't for show, huh?"

"Oh, heh. Nyet," Ursa chuckled. "Is not. But neither is yours."

"I never said it was." Without breaking eye contact with her neighbor, Min scrunched up her face and shifted to one side in her seat.

BBBBBRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP

This fart was loud enough to turn heads from several nearby tables—and smelly enough to prompt several people to get up and relocate. Grinning triumphantly, Min shot Ursa a wink. "Your move." 

Before the Siberian amazon could respond, she felt a hand on her shoulder—a hand every bit as strong as her own.

"Coach!" Looking up at the women standing over her neighbor, Min swallowed hard. "G-good morning!" 

Compared to the 6'8", 400-pound Russian sophomore and the 6'7", 360-pound Chinese junior, the 6'2", 280-pound American behind them was a little on the small side—but what Paula Knox lacked in size, she more than made up in reputation. During her time in the military's elite Forward Advanced Recon & Tactics unit, she'd allegedly taken down over a dozen enemy combatants using nothing but her powerful thighs and rump—and she'd done nothing to dispel that rumor once she became head of campus security at her alma mater. While she'd put a little extra weight onto her musclebound, bottom-heavy figure in the years since she'd returned to Ventus, especially since committing to coaching the school's varsity wrestling team, all that same raw power was still there—as she was more than happy to demonstrate to anyone on her team who doubted her capabilities. Wearing her usual "lucky" black fatigues and black boots, the brown-haired, blue-eyed, tan-skinned 39-year-old amazon looked just as imposing as ever—and for two girls like Ursa and Min, that was saying something. 

"Morning, ladies," said Paula, taking her hand off Ursa's shoulder and sniffing the air. "Hope I'm not interrupting something. We've got a problem."

"Problem?" Turning to face her coach, Ursa frowned. "How so?"

"Well, Beth just texted me, and she's sick." Paula brought a hand up to rub her forehead. "So we're down one for the meet later."

"Oh," said Min, "shit."

"Precisely, Zhao," said Paula, shaking her head. "Precisely. Trouble is, LMU's already here. So either we find a replacement before the match, or we forfeit." 

"We find replacement," said Ursa, scanning the room. "Is big school. We manage."

"In three hours?" Paula crossed her arms. "Seems optimistic, Ruski."

"Hmm..." For a moment, Ursa felt a twinge of uncertainty. To her coach's point, replacing Beth now would be easier said than done—especially because most of her Diana housemates were sleeping off last night's party. Still, she had no interest in conceding a match to her team's biggest rival without a fight. "Maybe that one?"

Following the Siberian amazon's gaze toward the cafeteria's lunch line, Paula scowled. "Her?"