Under Mary, Unawarely Shrunken First Semester chapter 4 by NearAndFarOut and maximally

Mary-Grace's unsteady footsteps grew nearer. On instinct, Max scrambled off her shorts, only to land on a second garment. He was caught in the folds of a dark blue pair of panties.

They did not belong to Mary, of course. He had heard Min say quite clearly that Mary-Grace had kept her panties on for the whole night. Surely no girl would go out wearing two pairs at once.

Unless... perhaps it was a period-related thing. That unpleasant circumstance would explain why Mary-Grace was so anxious about not being touched down below. And why would someone else's panties end up right next to Mary's shorts?

"Oh God, oh fuck. I lost both outer layers and never noticed?" Mary-Grace sounded incredibly stressed. "Thank Christ I didn't lose my tuck. I mean, of course I don't find Min attractive or whatever! I. Am. Normal."

Before Max had the time to process any of that (much less untangle himself from the bunched-up underwear), he was suddenly airborne. He watched with dread and awe as the fabric soared up her legs: sky-scraping sculptures of faintly freckled marble. Max's guess was confirmed in the most oppressive way possible, as Mary-Grace sandwiched him between the panties he'd landed on and the second pair she was already wearing.

"Ugh, why does it feel so weird down there?" she whined. "My fault for doing a walk of shame from the biggest lez on campus, huh."

Mary yanked both panties into a harsh wedgie, and soon Max realized he wasn't exactly in the layer of hell that he'd expected.

Max's final positioning was centered right beneath his unwitting captor: his toes were nearly touching Mary's crotch, and his nose was barely nudging her crack. Most of him was pressed tight into her taint. Yet somehow, he wasn't the only thing holding down that middle ground.

His new snuggle buddy was such a surprise that, at first, Max wasn't clued in by what he felt, but by what he didn't smell. His stepmother had raised her daughter to be unashamed of her body. Unfortunately, Izzy concluded that biological warfare was a valid form of bullying, so Max had quickly learned the coppery scent of period panties. He knew instantly that Mary-Grace was not 'on the rag'.

Why did she put on two pairs of underwear, then? Mary was concealing something much more substantial than a three-inch-tall nobody. Tucked alongside Max was a lump of flesh at least twice his height and much girthier-- although he couldn't judge an exact size inside the intense compression of Mary-Grace's tuck.

Max had to face facts: one of the prettiest girls in school had a penis, and he'd ended up in a front row seat.

With nothing to occupy his mind except the unrelenting heat, pressure and smell of his new confines, he noticed something else. Mary's panties stung with the familiar salty tang of precum. So much for her not being attracted to Min!

Not that Max blamed her: he also would have gone down on Min Zhao given half a chance. The wrestler didn't push his buttons quite like Big Booty Bella, but beggars can't be choosers. (Ironically, his new minuscule stature might make that pipe-dream a little more plausible. Min seemed utterly uninterested in men, but Max didn't even qualify anymore: he was closer to a walking, talking toy now.)

"Where do I go now?" Mary-Grace said to herself. "I want to hide in my room, but Crystal might be planning an ambush back at Slut House. Ugh, I'm still tripping hard; I don't think I'm up for fighting that bitch right now. Maybe I can just find somewhere quiet, to chill and come down?"

Her hips rocked side-to-side as she contemplated, rubbing Max's nose into the crusty seat of her panties. That relentless musk was all the reminder he needed: he had no say in where the day went from here.