An Influencer in Jock House Shrunken First Semester chapter 3 by NearAndFarOut and maximally

"How on earth am I still feeling this messed-up at 10 o'clock in the morning?"

Leaning woozily against the open doorway was someone that Max would've never expected to see in a place like this, much less at this hour of the morning—Mary-Grace, a freshman from Fortuna. He was only somewhat familiar with the tall redhead's online presence. She leaned into a 'prim and proper' tradwife persona, suggestive but never explicit, which didn't appeal to Max as much as the raunchiness of Bella or Crystal.

"Why did I come here anyway? Am I rolling right now? Am I tripping?" She weakly nudged her head into the doorjamb as she groaned.

Max was glad he wasn't the only one confused about how they ended up at the Jock House.

"I took two jello shots with Crystal and then my entire night went sideways." She sighed with equal parts frustration and exhaustion. "Did she dose me? That vicious little bitch..."

Again, Max did appreciate having a kindred spirit who also inadvertently ingested dubious substances. It made him feel like less of a loser in his current predicament. However, Mary seemed unlikely to help him get to safety. He should wait for one of the jocks to find him.

"Hey babe, are you sneaking off?" A voice called out from the hallway behind Mary-Grace—deep, confident, but playful. "There's room for another round, y'know." 

Min Zhao's silhouette filled the hallway behind Mary-Grace, her towering frame blocking the light. Even from his tiny vantage point, Max could see the way Mary-Grace winced when she turned around. The wrestler's green tank top strained against her muscular torso, her biceps flexing as she crossed her arms. A smirk played on her lips, her sharp green eyes raking over Mary-Grace's disheveled form with predatory amusement.

"Oh. Hi." For some reason, Mary-Grace's face was already getting red. "You're... Min, right? You play rugby?"

"Ha! Wrestling." Min wiggled her eyebrows. "On the streets and between the sheets."

"Look," Mary-Grace began, voice wavering. "Last night was crazy…"

"Crazy hot?" Min took a step closer.

"—and sort of a blur. But you didn't, um, touch me down there, did you?"

"No ma'am!" Min's smirk grew. "That was all you, start to finish."

By now, Mary-Grace was blushing profusely. "Um."

"I almost pissed myself, girl," Min continued, sizing up the Fortuna freshman again. "When I found out that this prissy willowy femme is a stone top."

Mary-Grace grimaced. "That's not really right..."

"Or whatever you want to call it." Min waved a hand. "Your panties stayed on, and you ate my pussy like it was your last meal…"

"Excuse me!" Mary-Grace stammered. "Min, look. I don't know what you think happened between us, but I am not a lesbian."

Min raised an eyebrow. "You're straight, huh."

"I am!"

"So last night was an accident?"

"Yes, something like that."

Min's smirk became a grin. "Little Miss Mary comes to my room, and she trips and faceplants onto my conveniently naked vag—"

"Please, stop." Mary-Grace closed her eyes, as if trying to will Min's claims away.

"All right, all right!" Min chuckled, relenting. "I get it. You've got some kind of 'baking, bible quotes and boobies' brand online, yeah? And a thirst for cunnilingus doesn't fit with that vibe."

Mary-Grace exhaled sharply. "I mean, true, but that's not why. I'm normal!"

Min rolled her eyes, but didn't push further. "It's all good, babygirl, get those trad simp dollars. But y'know, if you're ever in the mood for another 'accident', you have my number. Hit me up anytime."

"Goodbye, Min," said Mary-Grace, turning away.

Max watched Mary-Grace slump against the doorway in despair. Then she sighed and stepped into the lounge.

"I really am tripping, I think?" She gave a few exaggerated blinks, then shook her head. "All the colors are glowing and swirling a little. Maybe Min was just a figment, maybe none of that gay stuff happened. 'It was all a dream.'" She groaned, failing to convince herself. "A dream where I lost my shorts. Where the heck are they?"

As Mary-Grace began searching the lounge, Max decided to try his luck with her.

While House Diana didn't have a reputation for cruelty, like Juno, or perversion, like Prosperina, Max was nonetheless intimidated by the Jock House members. Many of them took 'amazonian' to new heights. With that much bulk, any careless manhandling would squish him. Min Zhao was a perfect example: the wrestler could've steamrolled him just as easily yesterday, before he shrank down to almost nothing.

Despite being taller than many of the jocks, Mary-Grace had modest 'girl next door' proportions. He doubted she'd touched a barbell in her whole life. Max wasn't too worried about her career as an influencer, either. What he'd seen on her social media was quite tame compared to some Fortuna girls: no femdom or sizeplay, just casual flirtiness and tight outfits. Tormenting a tiny would probably clash with her wholesome image.

Max could do much worse than Mary as a rescuer. The main problem was getting her attention, he realized, after fruitlessly waving his arms and squeaking at the top of his lungs. Her vision swam from the designer drug slipped into her drink: Max was just one more meaningless blip.

"Ugh, this place is a total pigsty! How hard could it be to find bright pink vinyl shorts?" she lamented, kicking aside a pile of sweat-drenched castoffs.

Glancing down, Max saw that he was in luck. He'd awakened right on top of a shiny pair of pink short-shorts. Even as small as he was, Mary was bound to notice him once she bent down to grab her clothes.

He suddenly heard a yelp as Mary-Grace banged her shin against a coffee table.

On second thought, maybe Max should stand next to the shorts, not on them. Just in case.