Sleeping In With Ursa Shrunken First Semester chapter 16 by maximally

For the second day in a row, Max awoke in total darkness—smothered on all sides by soft, smelly flesh. A tentative breath brought a thick gust of familiar earthy stink into his lungs, and he had to resist the urge to gag. Just a few days ago, he would've had no clue what to make of a situation like this. Now, he knew exactly what was going on. He was back in Ursa's ass.

Somehow, at some point during the night, he must have gotten dislodged from his giant guardian's cleavage. From there, he'd clearly fallen down the vast, sweaty landscape of her torso and ended up lodged in the humid canyon between her cheeks. Either that, or Min had stuffed him down here as a joke while her neighbor-with-benefits was asleep. The only other explanation was that he'd sleep-crawled down here on his own, a thought he found too unsettling to ponder for long.

BBBRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLPPPPPPP

As if on cue, a wave of hot, thick gas suddenly flooded the all-too-limited space around him, carrying the unmistakable smell of protein powder. It was a sleep fart, powerful and unhurried, a testament to Ursa's weapons-grade digestive system—and as the foul air washed over Max, he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face into the soft flesh of her inner cheek.

Even after two full days in Ursa's custody — there was no other word for it — he had no luck withstanding the effects of her gas. The fact that he'd woken up with his face just a few millimeters away from her asshole didn't help. In a matter of seconds, his lungs felt like they were on fire, and his eyes were watering. It was like she was marinating him in her fumes, forcing the essence of her lowliest bodily functions into every pore of his shrunken form—and the worst part was, she wasn't even trying.

A moment passed in eggy silence. Then, Max's entire world shifted.

"Ugh…" As Ursa rolled onto her side, her voice was a sleepy, husky rumble. "Min? Ty zdes'?"

More silence. The Siberian amazon extended a hand toward her nightstand to check her phone.

"Bozhe moi," she muttered. "Ten? Already?"

Ursa's bed creaked in protest as she got up, the movement jostling Max violently. He was suddenly sliding, her slick cheeks giving way as gravity took hold. Then, for one terrifying second, he was in freefall, tumbling through the dark, warm air between her ass and the bed. He landed with a soft thump on her damp, rumpled sheets, right between the twin craters she'd left in the mattress.

After hours of absolute darkness, it took a second for Max's eyes to adjust to the light streaming through Ursa's windows—and the stark contrast between the tropical swamp of her crack and the frigid tundra of her room was enough to make him wince. He squinted, raising a hand as his giant guardian shuffled over to the closet to start getting dressed.

From his current vantage point, she was just as much of a living mountain range as ever—her bare back a canvas of powerful muscle and soft, pale fat, tapering down to a waist that exploded into the two vast hemispheres of her buttocks. Her ass dominated his field of vision, each cheek larger than a house, still glistening with a fine sheen of night sweat. As she scratched the small of her back, her fingers dug into the flesh just above the deep crack he'd just escaped. Then she turned around, and he was faced with the full, frontal glory of Ursa Kolossovna first thing in the morning.

Her stomach, soft and slightly rounded, bore the faint lines of powerful abs beneath. Her breasts, colossal and heavy, hung with a natural weight that was both intimidating and awe-inspiring. Her platinum hair was a messy shock against her pillow-creased cheek, and her face was just as intimidatingly beautiful as the day he'd first laid eyes on her—somewhere between a Slavic supermodel and an amazon warrior queen.

Noticing the shrunken man on her bed, Ursa blinked her ice-blue eyes down at him. A slow, sleepy smile was spreading across her face. 

"Max," she said, her voice still thick with sleep. "There you are." She leaned down to pick him up—and as she brought him to her face, she wrinkled her nose. "You smell like butt. My butt."

"That's because, well…" Max stammered, instinctively looking down. "I guess I ended up back there last night."

"Da, I felt you," she chuckled. She carried him with her as she returned to the closet, selecting a clean red sports bra and a matching pair of compression shorts. "You guess? Was on purpose, no?"

"W-well…" Max could already feel himself blushing—especially when Ursa set him down on her desk, and he got to watch her try to push her immense curves into form-fitting activewear. "N-no, not really."

"You are funny one." She shook her head, well aware of the effect she had on her shrunken friend by now. "Perhaps we try something different today. No more ass, yes?"

"I… sure?" Max forced a shrug. "Sounds good to me."

"Good." With practiced ease, Ursa peeled her sports bra forward and tucked him inside. The soft, yielding pressure of her cleavage enveloped him, a vast improvement over his previous lodgings—although the lingering scent of her sweat was still no picnic.

"You hold on," she instructed, giving her chest a slight bounce that made his world jiggle nauseatingly as she strolled into her ensuite bathroom. "Time for morning business." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Unless you want front-row seat again?"

Thinking back to the way he'd started the day yesterday, trapped in Ursa's toilet as she let loose with a truly catastrophic morning dump, Max went white. "I-I think I'm good, thanks." 

"Okay," said Ursa, pulling down her shorts and settling onto the toilet. "Apology for noise. This one will be big one, I think."

As the Siberian sophomore began her "morning business," Max watched with equal parts fascination and horror. Even after sharing a bathroom with two very big, very smelly women back home, he'd never experienced anything like one of Ursa's dumps—although he much preferred his current spot to the one he'd had yesterday. In the moments when he worked up the courage to look down, the toilet bowl looked like a warzone. Log after bus-sized log piled up, quickly going above the waterline and inundating the whole room with stink. Meanwhile, Ursa idly scrolled through Instagram on her phone, liking photos from kawaii influencers and lithe fashion models between every apocalyptic push. 

"Which one you like better," she grunted, directing Max's attention toward two pink frilly dresses on her feed. "This, or that?"

"Uh…" Thoroughly distracted by the mountain of shit Ursa was in the process of leaving in the bowl beneath them, Max shrugged again. "I dunno?"

"Not your type?" Ursa scrolled further down, stopping on a post from a popular cosplayer in a full leather dominatrix getup. "How about this?"

"That?" For some reason, Max could feel himself blushing again. "Well…"

"Looks like yes to me," Ursa murmured, finally reaching over to the toilet paper to start wiping. At this point, there wasn't a single patch of water left in the bowl—and the resulting smell was beginning to make Max feel lightheaded. "You want big dommy girl, yes?" She chuckled. "What I am saying. Of course you do."

Down in her cleavage, all Max could do was force a laugh.

"Oh!" Glancing back at her shrunken friend, Ursa perked up. "I almost forget to ask. You need to go too?"

Max grimaced. While he did have to pee, he didn't like the idea of standing on the rim of the bowl and risking a close-up with Ursa's latest work. Still, he knew he wasn't going to get another chance any time soon. "Uh… sure?"

"Good," said Ursa, plucking him out and settling him on the seat between her legs. "Do not worry. I look out for you." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "You are not shy, no?"

"Me?" Max forced another laugh. "O-of course not!"

"I would not think so, after what you see me do." Ursa winked. "Most unladylike."

Fortunately, owing to the minimal amount of food and water Max had consumed the previous day, it didn't take him long to pee—at which point he eagerly beckoned Ursa to return him to the safety of her bra. 

By the time the Siberian amazon finished wiping, she'd gone through a full roll of paper—and when she finally stood, it took four full flushes to clear the bowl. "Much better," she sighed, turning to the sink to wash her hands and shooting Max another smile. "Now, I was thinking. Mondays, I have no classes until the afternoon. Perhaps, this morning, we-" 

Before she could say more, there was a knock in the other room—loud, clear, and entirely unexpected. 

"Hello?" Scowling, Ursa grabbed Max, stepped back into her room, and glanced toward the door. "Who is there?"