Faculty Lounge Shrunken First Semester chapter 2 by maximally

 

Rubbing his eyes and taking another groggy look around, Max immediately pieced together his location. To his right, he found a sleek leather couch littered with abandoned coffee cups and half-eaten pastries. To his left, a hulking mahogany bookshelf towered over him, stuffed with academic journals and photos of stern-faced women who looked like they could snap him in half for fun. Behind him, a giant flatscreen TV flashed silent highlights of the Ventus wrestling team crushing their latest opponents. Putting it all together, he realized he'd woken up in the faculty lounge of the administrative building—a place he'd only ever seen in passing during his orientation.

 

If the sorority houses were the wild, beating heart of Ventus, then the admin building was its brain: cold, calculating, and utterly indifferent to the chaos unfolding elsewhere on campus. This was where the school's real power players gathered to plot, gossip, and sip espresso—and, naturally, they were almost all women. If Max's first month on campus was any indication, the university struggled to attract and retain male faculty members just as much as it struggled to attract and retain male students.

Realizing where he was, Max's stomach twisted. The faculty at Ventus were legends in their own right, each more imposing than the last. At a school like this, the staff who stuck around tended to be tough as nails—no-nonsense women who knew exactly what they wanted, and how to get it. For some reason, they also tended to be very, very big.

As he mentally scrambled through the few faculty members he knew by name, four stood out:

First, there was Beatrice Clydesdale—the university's indomitable president. A towering, curvaceous Black woman who'd been running the school with an iron fist (and massive ass) for the last ten years, she was the closest thing Ventus had to a queen—as evidenced by her nickname, "Queen Bea". Max had only seen her once, during orientation, but the way she'd commanded the room had left him simultaneously awestruck and terrified. Before joining the faculty, she'd spent several decades as a high-powered lawyer—and before that, she'd been captain of the Ventus varsity wrestling team. Rumor had it she'd once expelled one of the strongest girls in House Diana by personally escorting her off campus with a hand on the girl's collar. If Max ran into her now, he had no clue whether she'd help him out of sheer professionalism or crush him under her heel for trespassing in the faculty lounge.

 

Then there was Riya Chandra, Max's Intro to Psychology professor, the campus psychiatrist—and, perhaps more notably, the mother of the Goth House's most infamous current member, Kali. While Kali — a domineering, ideologically-driven terror Max had been hearing about since orientation — had inherited every inch of her hulking, voluptuous figure from her mother, Riya was the complete opposite in terms of personality: warm, nurturing, and famously open-minded. In Max's first few classes with her, she'd spend half of any lecture talking about how much she loved "taking care of troubled young men." The thought of being "taken care of" by a woman twenty times his size was equally thrilling and mortifying. Still, if anyone on staff here would hear him out, it'd be her.

 

 

The only other name he could come up with was Quinn O'Donnell, the school’s newest music teacher. She was a plus-sized Irish woman in her thirties, and compared to Bea and Riya, she was a total wild card. The only other person he knew who had an office in here was the school's newest music teacher, Quinn O'Donnell: a plus-sized, thirty-something Irish woman. Compared to Bea and Riya, Quinn was a bit of an unknown quantity for Max. All he knew for sure was that she had a background as a musician and was a former resident of the infamous Loser House—and based on a rumor he'd heard about her skipping a faculty meeting to masturbate in her room, it seemed like she wasn't entirely above the house's traditional feral tendencies. Whether that was what Max needed right now was hard to say, although she'd never made him feel as intimidated as most of her peers.

 

Weighing his options, Max grimaced. None of these women seemed like ideal candidates to help him out, especially not Mina, but he certainly wasn't getting off this table by himself any time soon. Fortunately, or unfortunately, before he could spend any more time trying to game the whole situation out, he heard the door open on the other side of the room.

 

When he turned around, he found himself face to face with...