Going Home With Riya Shrunken First Semester chapter 10 by maximally

If Max's first stint in Riya's underwear had been a challenge, the journey back to her apartment on the other side of campus was several levels harder. Every step she took sent shockwaves through his body, her powerful cheeks jostling him like a tiny ship caught in an unforgiving storm, and the late afternoon sun quickly turned her ass into a living sauna that left him saturated with sweat in a matter of minutes. And then, of course, there were her farts.

BBBRRRRAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP

Her latest blast erupted without warning, a deep, resonant explosion that vibrated through her cheeks and directly into Max's trapped form, flooding his nostrils. At this point, he felt increasingly sure he'd never get the smell of her ass out of his nose—and had a sneaking suspicion that this was entirely intentional.

"Oh my goodness," Riya chuckled, patting her stomach with satisfaction. "Sorry, Max. Ordinarily, I'm not this bad."

Max gagged, his tiny hands pressing uselessly against the unyielding flesh surrounding him. Somehow, he doubted that.

Fortunately, by now, they were almost home—although Riya's constant fondness for stopping to chat with every student and faculty member that caught her eye along the way wasn't helping. Max was well aware of his professor's promiscuous reputation — rumor had it that during her first year on campus, she'd been responsible for single-handedly relieving roughly one-fifth of all incoming male freshmen of their virginities — but he'd never seen her in action outside of class until now.

"Zeke!" Noticing a familiar stocky, fluffy-haired Mexican-American freshman emerging from the dining hall, Riya grinned.

Beneath her, Max stifled a groan. Just when he'd felt certain this day couldn't have gotten more humiliating, here was his big, cocky roommate to make everything even worse.

"Hey, Miss C," said Zeke, flashing his usual boyish grin back. "I'm alright. A little hungover, to be honest."

"Oh, dear." Riya shook her head. "Didn't anyone ever tell you to pace yourself?"

"Yeah, you." Zeke's grin grew, his eyes flicking down to her chest before meeting hers again. "Although, I guess that was in a… different context."

"True." Eyeing the ever-pronounced bulge in Zeke's gray sweatpants, Riya licked her lips. "Speaking of… You still on for our usual time next week?"

"You know it," said Zeke, nodding approvingly.

"Good." Riya kept staring at Zeke's groin just long enough for him to notice, then brought her eyes back up to his. "Well, I'm sure you've got another big night to prep for. Don't let me keep you."

"Alright." With his eyes drawn to a group of passing female undergrads, Zeke was already walking back toward the Unaffiliated Students' Dorm. "Later, Miss C!"

"Bye, Zeke." Riya offered a little wave, then took a few steps in the other direction before giving her cheeks a deliberate squeeze around Max.

"Sorry if you wanted to get a word in there, dear," she murmured. "I thought it might be easier to have you sit that one out."

"N-no," breathed Max, still humiliated but undeniably thankful to have avoided being seen by his roommate in this state. "I mean, yeah. T-thanks."

*

Perhaps due to her long-standing friendship with Queen Bea, Riya enjoyed one of the nicer faculty apartments at Ventus—a large three-bedroom, two-bathroom unit that had only grown more well-appointed since her children had moved out. Kali's old bedroom was now her study, crammed with bookshelves upon bookshelves of psychology textbooks and niche sexual studies tomes. Ravi's old room had been converted into a yoga studio, hosting several mats, balls, weights, and various accoutrements for her private sessions. Both of the place's toilets seemed to be in much better working order than they'd been a few years ago, too. Of course, for Riya, the focal point of the home remained the kitchen—the place where she indulged her primary extracurricular passion, not counting sex.

That was where she spent most of the afternoon—swaying her hips to her favorite playlist of Bollywood standards while she prepared a pot of vindaloo for dinner. Meanwhile, her shrunken patient remained trapped in her ass, subject to a bewildering blur of sound and scent. The clatter of pots and pans, the sizzle of onions and garlic, the occasional hum of satisfaction as Riya tasted her creation, all underscored by the constant, oppressive heat and musk of her ass. 

By the time Max's professor finished cooking and settled down at the table to eat, he was even more dazed than before—and by the time she was finished, he could already hear her powerful digestive system setting to work above him, gurgling and groaning as it processed her extra-spicy concoction. Even after everything Riya's frustratingly productive pooper had put him through today, it didn't seem to be done with him yet. 

"Hold on back there, Max," Riya cooed between bites. "I think you're gonna get a little more conditioning tonight after all."

BBBRRRRPPPPPFFFFTTTTTT

As Riya let loose again, Max's only response was a muted whimper. This fart was wet, a bubbling, sputtering expulsion that left him gasping as the humid air rushed over him, and the stench was rancid—thick with cumin, garlic, and something distinctly Riya. For all the strange magic that his professor's conditioning was starting to work on him, it certainly wasn't making her gas smell any better.

"That hit the spot," Riya moaned, shifting slightly in her seat as she finally sat up from the table and shuffled into the other room. Slipping out of her green frilly blouse, she stretched with a satisfied groan, giving her shrunken patient one more butt-squeeze before reaching back to pluck him out.

Finally free from Riya's ass for the first time in several hours, it took Max a second to realize where he was. His amazonian professor was sitting on a king-sized bed draped in red silk sheets—and on either side, he saw two nightstands cluttered with a wide array of sex toys, each one three or four times his size. The walls were lined with framed drawings — a few that he recognized from Odor & Obedience — and a single family portrait of Riya and her children. He swallowed hard. This was Riya's bedroom.

"I think you've earned another reward," Riya purred, setting Max down on the bed and giving her chest a little jostle.

Watching his professor's breasts strain against the delicate material of her lacy red bra, Max could feel his mouth going dry. Her chinos followed, fabric clinging to her hips as she shimmied them down her legs, revealing the matching red thong that did little to contain the monumental swell of her ass. Then, to Max's astonishment and awe, the bra and thong went off, letting every inch of her curvy, chubby figure hang loose.

Completely naked now, Riya turned her back to Max, giving him an unobstructed view of her ass—the same vast, round expanse of smooth brown skin that had trapped him for the last several hours. She glanced over her shoulder, catching his wide-eyed stare, and smirked. "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

Max swallowed hard, his face burning. There was no point in denying it.

Riya just chuckled, climbing back onto the bed and making the mattress dip—a full-on bed-quake to her shrunken patient. Expertly avoiding squashing him, she sprawled out on her back, her legs spreading to reveal the glistening folds of her pussy. It was already swollen with arousal—yet another hungry beast, practically salivating at the chance to pounce on a guy like Max.

"Go on," she murmured, parting her lips to expose her throbbing clit with one hand and inching Max forward with the other. "Make yourself useful."

The moment Max made contact with Riya's sensitive loins, she let out a low, shuddering moan. Her fingers pinned him in place, grinding him against her in slow, deliberate circles, her slick arousal coating him as she used him like a living vibrator—and in the heat of the moment, she was cumming in no time at all. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, sending Max tumbling into the sticky wetness between her thighs, her dripping sex slathering him in a thick, musky sheen.

"Mmm. Very good." Panting, Riya lifted Max again, inspecting him with a satisfied smirk. "I think I need a shower. How about you?"

Without waiting for Max's answer, she rolled off the bed and stepped into the adjoining bathroom. The space was just as luxurious as the bedroom, with a massive walk-in shower, a Jacuzzi tub, and a seriously heavy-duty-looking toilet. This latter fixture was clearly purpose-built to accommodate a woman of her stature—but as she settled her powerful haunches onto the seat, it still creaked in just as much protest as the one in the faculty building.

Riya set Max on the edge of the sink while she relieved herself, the sound of her piss hitting the water deafening at his size—another reminder of just how powerless he was in her world. 

BBRRAAAAPPP

As Riya squeaked out yet another fart mid-piss, Max winced. While it was relatively small by her usual standards, it was just as formidable as all the rest in the tight quarters of the bathroom.

When Riya finished peeing, she didn't bother wiping. Instead, she reached back over to Max and stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain shut behind them. The hot spray hit instantly, drenching Max in scalding downpour before he could even gasp, although his giant companion's huge form blocked most of it.

"Try to relax, dear," she murmured, lathering her hands with soap and pressing Max against her skin. "It's a lot more fun that way."

The suds bubbled between her fingers as she pressed him against her chest, smearing his tiny body across the swell of her breasts—subjecting Max to a moment of unintentional pleasure that would have been far beyond any of his horniest teenage fantasies, were it not for everything he'd gone through to get here. Each of her breasts was like a mountain of soft, wet flesh, and the feeling of being pressed between them was unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

"Mm, that's it," she murmured, her grip tightening just enough to make his ribs creak in protest. Her nipple, already stiff, hardened further under the friction of his squirming form. "Such a good little toy."

Then, without warning, she guided him lower, his world tilting dizzyingly as she pressed him between her thighs. The steamy heat of her pussy enveloped him instantly, the soap-slick folds parting around his tiny body with obscene ease. Riya's thighs tensed as she ground him against her clit, the swollen nub throbbing against his back. The scent of her arousal mixed with the floral soap, creating a heady, intoxicating fog that left him lightheaded.

"Feel that, Max?" she cooed, rolling her hips to drag him through her dripping slit. "That's what you do to me."

As she brought him back to her ass, he was already limp in her grasp, his limbs heavy with exhaustion and reluctant arousal. The soap had done little to cleanse the musk of her earlier "conditioning," and now her puckered hole loomed before him, still faintly glistening from the shower's steam. Riya didn't hesitate—she pressed him directly against it, her fingers working him in slow, filthy circles over the wrinkled flesh. The heat was suffocating, the scent overwhelming, and when her fingertip accidentally breached him just slightly past the rim, a choked whimper escaped his lips.

She chuckled, withdrawing him just enough to admire her handiwork—his tiny form glazed in soap and sweat, his skin flushed from the heat and humiliation. "Mmm, much better," she mused, giving him one last, teasing squeeze before stepping out of the shower and drying herself off.

The towel she used was plush and enormous, swallowing Max whole as she lazily patted herself dry. Then, just as he thought he might catch his breath, she tucked him right back where he'd started—nestled between the warm, damp cheeks of her ass, the weight of her flesh sealing him in darkness.

"Well," she murmured, slipping beneath the silk sheets with a contented sigh, her body sinking into the mattress with a creak of protest. "I'd call that a pretty successful first day of conditioning. What do you think, Max?"

Beneath her, Max was out cold, his mind and body utterly spent. The rise and fall of her breath was the only movement he could register, the steady rhythm lulling him deeper into submission. Somehow, this was his life now.