Taken under Tiffany's care Shrunken First Semester chapter 3 by Captain Tremor and maximally

“OH MY GOD, are you, like, real?!” Asked the smooth, caramel voice of the face of House Diana, Tiffany Marshall, her shaved black head and chocolate brown eyes peeking out from behind Max, the large softball star having somehow snuck behind him, and was on her hands and knees as she questioned his miniscule existence.
 
“Y-yes! I’m real! My name is Max. Could you help me?!” Max said, yelling at the top of his lungs, relieved he was found so soon and hoping to squash any notions he was a toy or a figment of her imagination from the get-go.
 
“WOW, like, your real!! A tiny little dude doing jack-diddly in Diana! How’d you get here, Max?” TIffany asked, brushing by the smaller man’s distress to sate her curiosity, resting her pronounced chin and muscular on the coffee table, expansive romper glad ass held up in the air, as she prepared for a long-winded convo.
 
“I have no clue!! I was at a party, had some weird drink, and now I’m here!” Max said, the exact sequence of events lost on him, and the distress infused in each word becoming more obvious to the socially savvy softball star before him.
 
“Wow, you're, like, legit terrified of me right now, aren't you? You're safe with me, Max. Let’s take this to my dorm and get you some water and crackers. Cool?” Tiffany asked, lurching up from her crouched position to reveal her full glory to the freshman. 
 
Tiffany was no doubt stunning, her face would not be plastered all over campus if not, with some incredible assets. Her soft face (sharpened with a slew of fashionable piercings across the ears), winning tooth-gapped smile, all paired with a stout softball figure and a social media salivating rear and double-d breasts that had, to Max’s shame, made its way into his spank bank more than once. Now, this campus celebrity was his savior, as her well-manicured fingers curled around him and brought him to her face. She got a good whiff of her peppermint bubblegum-infused breath as she continued to speak. 
 
“As you can, like, see, I’m not exactly wearing anything with pockets right now…SO…I’ll just keep you in my bag! To make sure I don’t drop you or something,” Tiffany explained gesturing to her full figure with her free hand, only wearing an egg-shell white romper and some tennis shoes, not even a side pocket to be seen on her attire, but, her large university gym bag ready and able to house him. 
 
“S-sure sounds good!” Max said, The relief he was getting some assistance setting in, earning a warm grin from Tiffany as she undid the zipper of her bag and brought him over the opening…which is when doubt returned into his heart as he was hit with something FOUL!
 
“*COUGH* UGGHH wow…” Max gagged and whispered to himself, a plume of putrid air slapped him in the face, a unmistakable stink of unwashed, overused undergarments, sweat-soaked clothing, and a smell Max prayed was not what he thought it was, as he’d rather not be thinking of an outhouse right now as he’s being lowered into Tiffany’s bag.
 
“My room is kinda far, got one of the big ones on the top floor, so get cozy, Max!” Tiffany smiled, oblivious to what horrid odor he was currently sniffing on as she finally dropped him in and swiftly closed the bag behind him, save for a small crack to give him a little light. Max would have preferred going without it, as it gave context to what hell he had been “helped” into. He was, essentially, in a graveyard of ruined clothing. Max was surrounded on all sides by drenched, frayed, and clearly never washed socks. The cheesy odor they gave off made his eyes moist and tongue dry, and the smell clung to his mouth. In the far back was the faint outline of Tiffany’s uniform, thankfully far away but giving off an intensely engrained BO that made Max fear even getting a centimeter closer. Last but certainly least, right below him, where he landed, was the crusty remains of once was a pink thong, the waistband ripped on either end, fabric faded and holes across many surfaces, and, right where he was sitting, was a wet DEEP green stain across the back and a slimy one across the front, and he was sitting right in both. 
 
Max was left to stew in this chamber of stench for what felt like a century. Tiffany was fairly mindful of his presence, keeping her swaying to a minimum so as not to thrash him about, but it hardly helped. The atmosphere in the bag was a near-bio hazard, the BO, shit and cum stank was bringing all his senses to the floor, but he kept his mind focused, trying to puzzle out what happened last night and what his options were moving forward. Tiffany was no genius, but she was one of the most well-connected students in the university. With a few Insta posts and a call, she could get a classroom of Minerva girls working out how to Max, at least he hoped. He just needed to wait till they arrived in her room…which might take a bit longer than expected because: