Stress Testing Shrunken First Semester chapter 21 by maximally

Face to face with yet another giant woman — this one even more intimidating and classically beautiful than all the Loser House ladies he'd encountered over the last week put together — Max froze. Her dark skin gleamed under the lab's fluorescent lights, her curves accentuated by a form-fitting blazer and pencil skirt that screamed authority. Her full lips curled into a smirk as she loomed over him, her piercing gaze dissecting him like a specimen under glass.

"H-hey there," he stammered, trying to find the words to talk his way out of this. "V-Veronica, right?"

"Fascinating," Veronica purred, striding up to the counter and snatching Max in one fell swoop. Her grip was strong yet precise, applying just enough pressure to dissuade the shrunken freshman from trying to wriggle free as she brought him up to eye level. "How long have you had this… specimen, Miss Flores?" Her gaze flicked back to Daisy, who stood frozen in her open-backed gown, cheeks flushed crimson.

"P-please," Daisy stammered, hands fluttering powerlessly at her sides. "He's not a specimen. He's my friend. I'm trying to help him get back to normal if you can just-"

"You'll get him back," Veronica interrupted, her smirk sharpening. "Once you answer my question."

"I found him in my common room last Saturday." Glancing nervously between her tiny friend and her big, bad professor, Daisy offered a nervous shrug. "He's been staying with me since then."

"Have you had him in your underwear that entire time?" Veronica chuckled. "I may have underestimated you, dear."

"W-well…" Daisy's face went even redder, her gaze darting to the floor. "Not the entire time. B-but-"

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about." Veronica's fingers idly stroked Max's back, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. "It's quite extraordinary, really. Most men dosed with shrinking serum get pulped within a few hours of ingestion. And for him to have spent so long in such close proximity to your various… assets." She chuckled again. "Quite extraordinary indeed."

Max's stomach twisted as Veronica's words sank in. The idea that most shrunken guys met such gruesome fates so quickly gave him some much-needed perspective—but the way Veronica's thumb kept tracing circles over his chest made him wonder if his own fate might be just as grim, if far more… personal. 

Without another word, Veronica strode across the lab, her stiletto heels clicking against the tile. She stopped before a metallic scale bolted to the floor, its surface gleaming under the harsh lights. "I'd originally planned on using our time together to measure the force of your… emissions," she mused, her smirk widening. "But now that I know about your little friend… well, it'd be a waste of time not to try a few things while you're here."

Kneeling gracefully, she placed Max in the center of the scale, her fingers lingering just a second too long before withdrawing. Then she turned back to Daisy, her expression alight with anticipation. "Now, for this first test… would you like to be the one to step on him, Miss Flores?"

Daisy's breath hitched. "S-step on him?"

"It seems like he's survived worse over the last week, no?" Veronica arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "This should be trivial by comparison. I'm happy to do it if you don't feel up to the task, of course."

To emphasize her point, she tapped one stiletto against the floor—sharp, deliberate, the sound making Max flinch. The threat was clear: if Daisy didn't comply, Veronica was more than happy to take matters into her own hands. And something told him her version of the test would involve far less restraint.

Seeing the powerless look on Max's face — the same look that had inspired her to volunteer her ass to Hazel's greedy tongue last weekend — Daisy forced herself to nod. "I… okay," she whispered, shuffling forward. She slipped her right foot out of her flip-flop, hesitating as she hovered it over him. "S-sorry, Max. Just hang on."

Looking up, Max couldn't help flinching again. Daisy's sole was a landscape of cracked calluses and yellowed, funky skin, and he could already smell — and feel — the humid, fungal aroma that was starting to waft down from the crevices between her toes. Then, her foot began to descend—slowly, trembling, until it was pressing down on top of him like a warm, sweaty boulder. 

The scale's sensors whirred as Daisy's flesh engulfed him. His world narrowed to the grimy taste of dead skin, the sour tang of toe jam, the suffocating saltiness of her sweat. The pressure was immense, squeezing his ribs until he swore they'd crack. A muffled whimper escaped him as her toes curled protectively around his head—her silent apology for the ordeal she was inflicting.

Yet, as the seconds ticked by, he realized with grim awe that he was still alive. Hazel's serum had once again spared him what should have been certain death.

"Fascinating," Veronica murmured, scanning the readings with apparent delight. "Utterly fascinating. You can stop stepping on him now, Miss Flores."

Daisy jerked back like she'd been burned, her foot slipping off the scale. She crouched down, her hands fluttering over Max as if afraid to touch him. "Oh, thank god," she breathed, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I'm so, so sorry, Max, I—"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Miss Flores." Veronica's grin was razor-sharp. "We're not done yet. Why don't you try sitting on him next?"

"Sit on him?" Daisy's voice cracked. “But I just… he’s already…”

"He just survived 350 pounds of plantar force. But there's still more data to be gained here." Veronica gestured to a nearby stool, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Now. Or would you prefer I report your unauthorized possession of an unregistered human subject to the dean?"

Daisy's shoulders slumped. She glanced at Max, her expression equal parts guilt and resignation. "I'll make this up to you later, Max. I promise."

"N-no, please," Max sputtered, but Daisy was already moving to comply—picking him up, setting him down on the stool and turning around. All Max could do was stare up at her in disbelief, watching her ass jiggling beneath her flimsy gown, sharing her feelings of dread and inevitability.

Then, all at once, Max was engulfed. The first point of contact was her asshole—a slimy, quivering kiss against the top of his head as her massive cheeks swallowed him whole. The smell was apocalyptic, a noxious blend of sweat, musk, and the lingering aftermath of last night's Indian food. Her bowels gurgled ominously, shifting under the stress of the situation, and Max could feel the heat radiating from her core.

Veronica circled the stool, tapping notes into her tablet. "Good," she said, her voice clinical. "Now… I'd like you to try and move your bowels."

"You mean…" Daisy went rigid. In the time since last Sunday's toilet-related close call, she'd done everything in her power to avoid putting Max in another situation like that. "Like… number two?"

"I was thinking something more… gaseous." Veronica's smirk returned, her eyes gleaming. "But we can definitely explore some testing around solids later, if you'd like."

"I'm good," Daisy muttered, shuddering.

After all the farts she'd unleashed in Max's face over the last week, she shouldn't have felt so conflicted. But this was different. This was clinical. And yet, if it meant getting out of here with him in one piece…

She took a deep breath.

BBBBBRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Daisy's fart roared into Max's face like a toxic geyser, a wet, rippling cacophony that drowned out his scream. Her gas was alive—thick, greasy, clinging to his skin like napalm. It seared his eyes, scorched his throat, sent vomit surging up his esophagus. The lab's sensors blinked madly, charting methane levels that would've incapacitated any full-sized human in seconds.

"Remarkable," Veronica murmured, her fingers flying over her tablet. "You can stand up now, dear."

Daisy leaped up, sending Max tumbling onto the floor—right into Veronica's waiting grasp. The professor lifted him between two fingers, her dark eyes alight with fascination. "Truly, truly remarkable," she mused. "What did you say his name was, dear? Matt?"

"M-Max," Daisy corrected, her voice tight with unease.

"Max," Veronica repeated, rolling the name over her tongue like a fine wine. She turned him this way and that, inspecting him with a gaze that made his skin prickle. "You're one exceptional young man. You know that?"

"Me?" Max's face burned under her scrutiny. "Oh, uh, I dunno about all that."

"I mean it." Veronica's smile was slow, deliberate. "You know… if you'd like, I'd be happy to take you off Miss Flores's hands for a while. I'm sure with my resources, I could find a cure for your condition in no time at all…"

"What?" Daisy scowled, her hands balling into fists. "That wasn't what we agreed! Give him back!"

"Now, now, dear," said Veronica, grinning again. "He's free to make his own decisions, is he not?"

"He is," Daisy muttered, her voice laced with something dangerously close to jealousy.

Looking between the two giant women, Max felt thoroughly stunned—almost as much as he'd been the first time he'd been put in such a situation last weekend with Daisy and Hazel. Now, though, the decision before him seemed even harder. While Hazel remained the definition of a wildcard, Veronica was a faculty member, a responsible adult in a school full of irresponsible young people. Not only that, but a certifiable science genius—if not Hazel's equal in raw horsepower, then definitely somewhere pretty close. A lab like this would probably give him a better shot at returning to normal. And he didn't hate the idea of leaving the Loser House. Still, he had a feeling that he wouldn't have made it this far without Daisy—and he knew he'd break her heart by choosing to stay here.