Kiss and Make Up Shrunken First Semester chapter 13 by maximally

Max swallowed hard, his tiny body trembling as he stared up at the two giant women looming over him. Izzy's curvy frame, though slightly less imposing than Victoria's, was still a towering monument of soft, supple flesh—her black tank top straining against her ample chest, her jean shorts clinging to her wide hips and the round, plump cheeks of her ass. Victoria, meanwhile, stood with her hands on her hips, her low-cut blouse barely containing the swell of her breasts, her tight jeans accentuating every curve of her mature, voluptuous figure.

Memories of the last twelve hours flashed through his mind—Victoria's massive ass pressing down on him, the suffocating warmth of her cheeks enveloping him, the relentless stench of her gas filling his lungs. It had been bad enough when she'd just been his overbearing stepmom. Now, it was even worse. Every shift of her hips was like an earthquake; every fart was a toxic hurricane that left him gasping. The way her body dominated his senses, the way her sweat soaked into his skin, the way her sheer size rendered him so utterly powerless—it was more humiliating than anything she'd ever put him through before, and that was saying a lot.

At the same time, another detail kept coming back into his mind. If he kept going back into Victoria's panties like this, she might start getting the idea he actually liked it back there. And if there was one thing worse than being trapped in his stepmom's ass, it was her thinking he was into it—that he wanted to be smothered by her, to be treated like nothing more than a plaything wedged between her cheeks.

"Well?" Izzy tapped her foot impatiently, her black Converse squeaking against the floor. "You gonna pick, or am I gonna have to flip a coin or something?"

"I—uh..." Max stammered, forcing a weak smile. His eyes darted between his stepmother and stepsister, his mind racing. "I guess I'll go with you, Izzy."

"You guess?" Izzy's dark-lined eyes narrowed instantly. She crossed her arms, making her tank top strain even tighter against her chest. "You trying to fuck with me, lil bro?"

"What? No!" Max winced. "W-what makes you say that?"

"Just seems a little sus, is all. I mean, you just spent the whole summer avoiding me like the plague. You haven't texted me once since you got down here. And now you wanna cozy up to me?" Izzy leaned down, her black-painted lips curling into a smirk, her breath reeking of sickly sweet energy drinks—a stark contrast to the musky, unwashed scent radiating from her body. "I think you're just looking for a way out of being mommy's little butt boy."

Max's face burned. Busted.

Victoria gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense, her cleavage jiggling with the motion. "Max! Is that true?"

"N-no!" Max stammered, scrambling for an excuse. His tiny hands fluttered nervously as he spoke. "I just—I missed you, Izzy. We haven't hung out in, like, ages. And I thought maybe we could, y'know… move past all the…" He swallowed again, resisting the urge to say 'merciless bullying.' "…Stuff."

"Stuff." Izzy's grin turned predatory. She leaned even closer, her breath hot against his bare skin, the scent of her body — sweat, cheap perfume, and something distinctly Izzy — washing over him. "You really missed me, huh?"

Max nodded weakly, his throat dry.

Izzy snorted. "Alright. Prove it." With a dramatic sigh, she plopped down on the edge of the bed, the mattress bouncing beneath her weight. Then — slowly, deliberately — she slipped one foot out of her Converse. Her sock was black, threadbare, and damp with sweat. She wiggled her big toe at him, the fabric stretching obscenely. "Kiss my foot."

Max went white. "W-what?"

"I said, kiss. My. Foot." Izzy's voice was playful, but there was an edge to it—a challenge. "What's the matter? You used to do it all the time when we lived together. Sometimes I wouldn't even have to ask!"

"That only happened once!" Max scowled, feeling his face getting even redder.

Victoria clapped her hands together, delighted. "Oh, that's a great idea, dear!" She nudged Max with a finger, the force of it nearly knocking him over. "Go on, sweetie. Kiss and make up."

"You can't be serious." Max shot his stepmom a glare, but she just smirked back, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Dead serious," Izzy said, flexing her toes. The sock stretched even tighter, the outline of her toes pressing against the fabric. A whiff of foot funk hit Max's nose—a pungent, sour aroma that made his eyes water. He recoiled, his face twisting in disgust.

"Ugh!" Max gagged, stumbling backward. "When's the last time you showered?"

"Oh, don't be so uptight, sweetie," Victoria chuckled. "You know, her foot's about your age. Might be a good match for you."

"Pfft," Izzy scoffed. "My foot's way too good for him."

Max's face was on fire. This couldn't be happening. He'd just escaped one humiliating prison, only to be thrust into another. He glanced between Izzy's smug grin and Victoria's expectant gaze, his stomach twisting into knots.

Then Victoria sighed, shaking her head. "You know, Max… I'd be really hurt if you were only picking Izzy to get away from my butt."

Hearing this, Max couldn't help letting out a sigh of his own. Whether he liked it or not, he knew that there was no way out of this situation without resigning himself to at least one deeply unpleasant situation—and now that he'd chosen Izzy, it was probably in his best interest not to double back on that and risk pissing both of them off.

"Fine," he grumbled, getting to his feet again and looking up at his stepsister's foot with renewed determination—or as much as he could muster for the task before him. Then, gritting his teeth, he shuffled forward until he was standing directly in front of Izzy's big toe. The sock was filthy — stained with sweat and who knew what else — and the fabric was stretched thin enough that he could see the pinkish hue of her skin beneath. He took a deep breath—immediately regretting it as the scent of stale foot sweat flooded his nostrils—then leaned in and pressed his lips to the damp fabric.

"Aww," Izzy cackled. "I think he likes it!"

Before Max could pull away, Izzy's foot came down on top of him, pinning him to the bed with a soft whump. The sheer weight of her sole pressed into his back, flattening him against the mattress as the musky scent of her foot flooded his nostrils. The heat was overwhelming, the sweat-damp fabric clinging to his bare skin as he squirmed helplessly beneath her.

"Izzy—oof—get off!" he wheezed, his tiny arms flailing, pushing uselessly against the unyielding curve of her arch.

"Nah," Izzy said, pulling out her phone with her free hand. She shifted her weight slightly, grinding her foot down just enough to make Max gasp, the pressure forcing the air from his lungs. "This is too good not to share."

Max's blood ran cold. "No—no, don't—!"

Too late. Izzy snapped a picture, her phone's shutter clicking loudly in the quiet room. Max could only imagine how pathetic he looked—three inches tall, flattened under his stepsister's foot like a bug, his face smushed against the sweaty fabric of her sock.

"Aand post!" Izzy chirped, tapping her screen a few more times with her thumb.

Max groaned, his voice muffled by her sole. "Where'd you post that?"

"Oh, just Snapchat. "Izzy smirked, finally lifting her foot just enough for him to turn his head and glare up at her. "And Instagram. And TikTok."

Max's stomach dropped. He could already picture the texts flooding in, the memes, the relentless humiliation. It didn't help that Izzy's followers included two thirds of his old high school classmates. 

Victoria wiped a tear from her eye, still laughing. "Oh, honey… you should see your face!"

Izzy finally lifted her foot away, letting Max gasp for air. He rolled onto his back, glaring up at her as he rubbed his sore spine. "You're the worst."

"No you," Izzy shot back, leaning down to pluck him up between her thumb and forefinger. She held him at eye level, giving him a grin that was equal parts gleeful and sadistic. "Relax, bro. I'll take real good care of you."

Max didn't trust that smile for a second.

Then, without warning, Izzy yanked down the waistband of her shorts and shoved him into the back of her underwear.

Max barely had time to scream before he was engulfed in darkness, his body pressed flush against the warm, sweaty curve of Izzy's ass. The fabric of her black cotton panties clung to him like a second skin, the air thick with the musky, unmistakable scent of her body. He could feel the soft, yielding flesh of her cheeks pressing against him from all sides, the way her body moved with every breath she took.

"Izzy!" he sputtered, squirming against her. His hands pushed against her ass, but it was like trying to move a mountain.

"Shhh," Izzy cooed, adjusting her shorts with a satisfied wiggle. Her fingers brushed over the outline of his tiny body through the fabric, pressing him even deeper into the crease of her ass. "Just relax and enjoy the ride."

BBBBRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP

The fart that followed was a long, bassy blast, the vibration rattling through Max's entire body as the hot, eggy stink flooded the cramped space around him. The force of it sent him tumbling forward, his face planting directly into the damp fabric between her cheeks. He gagged, his eyes watering as the smell seared his nostrils—a painfully familiar cocktail of whatever greasy junk food she'd been eating on her drive down here. The heat of it was unbearable, the gas swirling around him like a toxic cloud, clinging to his skin, his hair, his very being.

Victoria burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "Oh my god, Izzy!"

Izzy grinned over her shoulder at her mom. "What? He knew what he was signing up for."

Max groaned, pressing his face into his hands as the lingering remnants of her gas swirled around him. Truly, this was hell.

As Izzy strutted toward the door, her hips swaying with every step, Max bounced against her ass with each movement, the fabric of her panties rubbing against his bare skin. The heat, pressure and smell were all downright oppressive.

"So," Izzy said cheerfully, turning to her mother. "You two eat breakfast yet?"

"I have not," said Victoria, giving her daughter a playful hip-check. The impact sent Max jostling again, his face smushing deeper into Izzy's ass. "Any ideas?"

"Not Mexican food," Max pleaded, his voice barely audible from the depths of Izzy's underwear.

Izzy laughed, giving her ass another little shake—sending Max tumbling even deeper into the humid abyss of her panties. "What's that, bro? Mexican food? Great idea!"

Max groaned again. Maybe he should have picked Victoria.