Russian Withdrawal Shrunken First Semester chapter 19 by maximally

Katarina smiled. "I have come to a decision."

 

"Oh?" Hearing her mother switch to Russian, Ursa’s stomach dropped. Since taking over her late husband's business empire, Katarina had demonstrated an uncanny knack for learning other languages—and she made a habit of only speaking in English whenever she visited Ursa. The only time she ever reverted to her mother tongue was when she was about to drop some serious bad news.

 

"I think this little experiment has run its course," said Katarina, flatly. "Don't you?"

 

"Experiment?" Ursa went white. "What do you mean?"

 

"Don't be coy, dear." Katarina scoffed. "You'll be flying back to Russia with us tomorrow. I spoke with the administration at Moscow State University last week, and they're very excited to meet you."

 

"Mama, you can't be serious." Ursa's heart was already racing. Katarina never joked about this kind of thing—not even to mess with her. "I mean... I just got here."

 

"I'm afraid it's already been settled," said Katarina, shaking her head. "I had Arkady book your tickets this morning."  

 

"I was head-scissoring him the whole time," Katya chimed in, giggling. "Just to make sure he didn't fuck it up again."

 

"And you did an excellent job, dear." Glancing between the gleeful Katya and the visibly distraught Ursa, Katarina grinned. "Now, I haven't told the administration at Ventus yet. I thought you might like to do that for yourself."

 

Max still couldn't understand a word, and the switch to Russian just made it worse. But he could tell things had gone south fast. Ursa's whole body had tensed up, her cheeks were squeezing him tighter than ever, and her asshole was twitching against his face like it was about to explode.

 

"B-But..." Ursa struggled to find the words to push back—especially knowing her mother's worrisome track record in arguments like these. The only way Ursa had gotten Katarina's blessing to attend Ventus was by arguing that it would make her a more formidable enforcer for the family business. "My team, my friends..."

 

Katarina's grin became a scowl. "This is exactly what I am talking about. Do you ever see this kind of talk from your sister? She never even went to university. She went right into our business. What do you have to show for your two years out here? A tan?" She leaned across the table, making several delicate china plates creak under her copious cleavage. "You have potential, dear. And right now, you're wasting it."

 

Ursa stabbed a blini and stuffed it in her mouth, mostly just to buy herself a few seconds.She had no clue how she was going to get out of this—and for some reason, the number one thing on her mind was Max. If she really had to go back to Russia, maybe she could talk Min into babysitting him. Or maybe she'd just smuggle him home herself—though that would mean keeping him wedged in her ass 24/7 to keep him away from her family. Fun for her, not so much for him.

 

Down below, Max could hear his giant guardian’s guts rumbling louder than ever. Clearly, the stress of this day was not doing her any favors. As he felt the pressure reaching a now-familiar critical mass, he managed to grab one last breath that wasn't 100% stink. Then, all hell broke loose.

 

 

If Ursa was hoping for a silent release, she was out of luck. The fart that followed was so deep and loud it brought the whole restaurant to a dead stop. Silverware clattered onto plates. People stared, some snickering, others coughing as the stink started to spread from under her chair. It was just as nasty as it was noisy. Katya lost it, giggling uncontrollably, while Katarina just grinned.

 

"Excuse me," said Ursa, feeling her face going red as she awkwardly shuffled out from the table and made a beeline toward the ladies' room.

 

Meanwhile, Max was still trapped in the sweaty hell of Ursa's dress, with nothing to breathe but pure stink. He was starting to get used to her smells, but this one was on a whole new level—even for Ursa. By the time she made it to the bathroom and locked the stall, he was barely conscious.

 

Ursa peeled Max out, finding him soaked in butt sweat and gasping like a fish. As she looked down at him, a memory slammed into her. Back in high school, there was this scrawny teacher—half her size, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. He'd docked her a few points for some dumb formatting thing on a test, so she'd paid him back in a way her family would probably call 'classic Ursa': cornering him after class, pinning him to the floor, and unleashing a barrage of farts on his face while her friends laughed and filmed.

 

When she finally let him up, the guy could barely breathe—but he apologized right away, and she got perfect grades after that. She could still see his face: pure fear and humiliation. The memory made her stomach twist. She never wanted anyone to look at her like that again. But that was exactly what her mom and sister had always wanted from her.

 

"Apology," she muttered, tearing off a sheet of toilet paper and gently dabbing Max's face. "Max? Are you alright?"

 

Impatient to get his attention, she pressed his face to her lips for a surprise kiss. That did the trick. All at once, Max sputtered back to life—and when Ursa pulled him away, they were both blushing.

 

"H-Hey," said Max, not even bothering to conceal his burgeoning arousal. “…How's brunch going?"

 

"Not good," Ursa sighed. "My mother wants me to come home."

 

"Oh." Feeling the full gravity of this statement hit him all at once, Max swallowed hard. If Ursa was going back to Russia, what the hell would that mean for him? "Well. That's not good."

 

"Nyet," Ursa shook her head, smiling in spite of herself at her shrunken friend's reaction. "They think this place is making me soft. But I think that is good thing." She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled hard. "Before Ventus... I was bully. Mean girl. Very mean. Anyone weaker than me, I push them around. I do not want to be that person anymore."

 

"Damn," said Max, doing his best to keep pace with Ursa while still shaking off a headful of her farts. "I really can't imagine you as a bully."

 

Ursa smiled. "You are nice to say this. But you would be surprised."

 

"Maybe," Max shrugged. "I feel like you could turn it on if you really felt like it."

 

Ursa hesitated for a second. Then, her eyes lit up. "You have given me idea. But you will have to trust me." She glanced down at Max, her gaze more serious than ever. "You trust me, da?"

 

Max nodded solemnly. "Of course I do."