Odor & Obedience, Exercise 1 Shrunken First Semester chapter 5 by maximally

As Max glanced between the two titles Riya held before him — An Introduction to Goddess Theory and Odor & Obedience — he couldn't help grimacing. Neither title sounded reassuring. Still, he could tell that if he didn't make up his mind soon, his professor would make it up for him. Against his better judgment, he decided to take the choice seriously.

While he knew that he was reduced to quite literally judging two books by their covers, the first one gave him a lot more pause than the second. The word "goddess" gave him a whole host of associations, most eerily close to the militant dommy misandry espoused by House Juno members like Riya's daughter, Kali. The second wasn't any more reassuring — especially after all the various odors the Indian MILF had already hit him with over the last few minutes — but at least it didn't read like a manifesto. 

"That one," he said weakly, pointing to the paperback.

Riya's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Excellent choice." She set Goddess Theory aside and cracked open Odor & Obedience, flipping to the first chapter with practiced ease. "Ah, there we go. Chapter one, exercise one." 

As Riya turned the book toward Max, the three-inch freshman strained his eyes to make out the diagrams on the pages. Much to his relief, they all looked pretty innocuous: a man sitting in a lotus position, breathing in and out, surrounded by what looked like clouds.

"Have you ever done breathing exercises before, Max?" Riya's voice was back in regular therapist mode.

Max shrugged. "Uh… not really? This is kinda… well, I've never really done therapy before." He struggled with the word, unsure if this really qualified as anything like regular therapy to begin with.

"I had a feeling you'd say that. I gather it's something of a touchy subject for young men your age." Closing the book and setting it on the table beside Max, she leaned forward to inspect him—sending her cleavage surging pleasantly against her still half-unbuttoned blouse. "Why don't you sit down right there. Cross your legs. And then close your eyes when you're ready." 

Max hesitated, prompting a reassuring smile from Riya.

"Don't worry, Max." Riya chuckled. "You're doing great. Now, follow me. In… one, two, three, four…"

With no other apparent choice, Max closed his eyes and followed Riya's lead. Taking a deep breath into his lungs — even though the air around him still smelled a whole lot like his professor's last fart — he already felt a little bit more relaxed. To her point, this was probably the first time he'd done any deliberate breathing since he'd woken up back in the faculty lounge.

"Hold. Two, three, four…"

Again, Max obeyed. The rhythm was soothing, almost meditative. For a moment, the chaos of the morning faded.

"Exhale. Two, three, four."

The silence stretched. Then he heard the rustle of fabric.

His eyes snapped open just in time to see Riya's chinos slide down her hips, pooling around her ankles. Her thong followed, discarded with a flick of her fingers, leaving the vast expanse of her lower half totally bare. Before he could process the sight of her overwhelming nakedness, she turned, her monumental cheeks eclipsing his entire field of vision as she lowered herself onto the table in front of him.

BBBRRAAAPPPPPP

The fart that followed was even worse than her last, a thick, bassy cloud that instantly monopolized all the space around Max. His lungs seized. This one was spicy. 

"Oh—fuck—!" Max gagged, doubling over as his eyes watered.

"Focus, dear," said Riya, glancing back at her new patient and smiling. "Now, inhale…"

Of course, by this point, Max had no choice. If he kept holding his breath, he was going to pass out even faster. Filling his lungs with air again, he could practically taste the aftermath of whatever Riya had just eaten—and above him, his professor seemed quite pleased by the resulting spectacle.

"Good," Riya purred. "Very good. Now, hold…"

With no interest in holding in Riya's fart-air any longer than necessary, Max allowed himself to collapse into a coughing fit—provoking a frown from the Indian amazon. 

"Oh, Max." Riya pursed her lips. "I'm afraid you're going to have to take this a little more seriously than that."

"Wh—why did you—" he wheezed. "W-what does this have to do with helping me relax?"

Riya smiled again, more reassuring than before. "Maybe I should have given you a better idea of what to expect here. Most of the exercises in this book are based on the concept of exposure therapy. Specifically, helping shrunken men associate feminine odors with feelings of relaxation and submission."

"Odors like…" Max scowled. "Your farts?"

"Among other things," Riya chuckled. "Most 'bigs' in mixed-size relationships prefer to keep their tiny partners close." She gave her hips a little wiggle, sending the whole coffee table groaning. "Cleavage, underarms, underwear." She winked. "I imagine you won't be any different."

Max's stomach twisted. "That's—that's insane."

"Is it?" Riya arched a brow. "Or is that just internalized anxiety talking?" She reached back, patting his head with a single fingertip—an almost tender gesture, if not for the way it unintentionally pressed him down into the table. "I know this is a lot to have dropped on you all at once, but the more you resist it, the harder the transition is going to be."  

Max wanted to argue. Wanted to scream that no sane person would enjoy being smothered in someone else's stink. But the truth was, he had no leverage. No power. And as much as the smell revolted him, the heat radiating off her skin, the sheer presence of her, sent traitorous sparks of arousal flickering through him. 

"Breathe through it," said Riya, offering him another smile. "Embrace the discomfort."

As the Indian amazon withdrew her finger, he understood that this was not the time to push back—at least, if he wanted to avoid ending up back in the faculty lounge. Swallowing hard, he forced himself back into the lotus position, eyes squeezed shut.

"Good boy." Riya cooed, shifting her weight on the table. "Now, inhale…" 

PPPRRRRTTTTT

The Indian amazon's next fart came without warning—shorter, sharper, but no less potent. The air turned thick, clinging to his skin. He choked, his body convulsing, but he didn't open his eyes. Didn't flee.

"Very good." Riya's voice dropped even lower, practically a moan. "Now, I want you to tell me the first word that comes into your mind when you think of my farts. Don't think. Just say it."

Max coughed violently, his tiny body wracked with spasms as the thick, musky fog of the Indian amazon's latest fart surrounded him. His eyes watered, his lungs burned, and his stomach was in knots—yet beneath the humiliation, something else flickered. Something traitorous.

"Bad," he blurted out, voice strained.

"Hmm." Riya tilted her head just enough for him to catch the glint of amusement in her eyes. "I'm sensing a lot of tension in your voice. Inhibition. Maybe you need a little extra push."

Before Max could protest, she reached a hand back, fingers closing around him with effortless dominance. He squirmed as she lifted him, his bare skin prickling under her touch, and brought him closer to the monumental swell of her ass. Her cheeks loomed like twin mountains, framing a crack that promised total, humiliating entrapment—and the smell that radiated out from between them was downright ominous.

"Try again," she chuckled.

Max swallowed hard, his gaze locked on her butt. "S-Strong," he stammered.

Riya smirked. "Better." She shifted slightly, her ass pressing outward, looming over him like some vast, unknowable monster. "Strength isn't bad, Max. Strength is what women like me use to protect little guys like you."

The words sent an electric jolt through Max, making his stomach clench in a way that had nothing to do with fear. His cock gave another traitorous twitch against his stomach, a flush creeping up his neck.

Riya noticed, of course. Her smirk grew. Then, without warning, she shoved him between her cheeks.

All at once, soft, suffocating flesh enveloped Max on all sides, hot and slick with sweat. The pressure was immense, her cheeks molding around his tiny form like a living vise, her warmth seeping into his skin, and her scent seeping into every last pore. He writhed, his tiny hands pushing uselessly against the immovable wall of her flesh. Then, it got even worse.

BBBRRRAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP

Her next fart was her worst yet—and for Max, at point-blank range, it was nothing short of apocalyptic. The initial blast vibrated through her cheeks with enough force to rattle his whole body, and the smell that followed proved even more hazardous. Beneath the Indian amazon, her shrunken patient gagged, his vision swimming as the odor seeped into his nostrils, his lungs, his very soul. 

"Mmm." Riya sighed contentedly, shifting her weight just enough to grind him deeper into her crack. "Now what do you think, dear?"

Max's mind was a haze of humiliation and involuntary arousal. His body burned, his cock achingly hard despite the horror of his situation. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled whimper. By now, his face was just inches away from Riya's huge, pulsating backdoor. 

"O-Overwhelming," he choked out.

"Much better, Max." Riya was moaning again. She clenched her cheeks, equal parts playful and possessive, and bit her lip as she felt Max's struggles intensify in response. "Now you're getting it. I want to overwhelm you. I want you to feel how small you are. How helpless."

BBBBBRRRRPRPAAAAAAABABLTLTTTTTTT

Another fart, this one slower, wetter, the heat of it seeping into Max's skin like a curse. He groaned, his body betraying him entirely, his cock throbbing as her musk saturated him.

"Isn't this nice, Max?" Riya sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "No big, scary world. Just me and you." She rolled her hips slightly. "I can feel how much you're enjoying this, you know."

Beneath her, Max felt like his face was on fire. He wanted to say no. But his body was doing all the talking for him. 

Satisfied that she'd gotten Max sufficiently saturated with her stink, Riya stood up, leaving her shrunken patient a trembling, gasping mess beneath her. His body was drenched in sweat, his cock was painfully hard, and several competing sensations fogged his mind—all deeply, deeply confusing. 

"That was really, really good work, Max." Turning around to size up her patient, Riya was smiling wider than ever. "I'm proud of you."

Hearing this, Max felt his cock getting even stiffer—but before he could even open his mouth, Riya was bringing him up to hers for an absolutely colossal kiss. Each of her lips was bigger than his entire body, and the sensation of having them pressed up against him was almost more than his tiny system could handle, especially when her tongue snaked out to remind him of what it could do to him. Max shuddered, his cock twitching as it curled around him, teasing, claiming. 

When she finally pulled back, she looked almost as aroused as he was.

"I think we're ready to move on to the next exercise," she said, licking her lips. "Unless you need a break, of course."