A Deal with the Devil Shrunken First Semester chapter 4 by maximally

 

Already, Max could feel cold sweat on his neck. His mind raced, fear and desperation churning together as every instinct screamed at him to stall, beg, or find some loophole—anything but living at the mercy of the girl who’d treated him like her personal fart absorber since her mom married his dad. Still, when he met her gaze, her eyes said what they both knew: there was no way out. Even if he opted to go home, it would only be a matter of time before Izzy persuaded their mom to let her "look after him." If he wanted to stay at Ventus and cling to any scrap of independence—even the illusion of it—he had no choice.

 

“Fine,” he said, shoulders slumping. “You win. Call Victoria.”

 

“Yes!” Izzy let out a sharp, delighted whoop and pumped one fist. “I knew you’d see things my way, lil bro. Smart move.”

 

She didn't waste a second. Her hand came down, fingers curling around him like a misplaced vape. The sudden lift sent the room tilting; as the floor dropped away and Izzy rose, Max’s stomach flipped. The world swung in nauseating arcs—desk, door, ceiling lights blurring past. Her skin was warm, a little sweaty from the drive, and her grip pinned his arms lightly to his sides. Being carried by someone so much larger felt like a carnival ride without any safety checks.

 

Max could feel his heart pounding, equal parts dread and some sick, reluctant thrill. Somehow, this was the same girl who’d once catfished him for a week, sending thirst traps just to roast him in front of her friends—and now he’d volunteered to put his life in her hands. Hopefully, he wouldn't come to regret this.

 

“Alright, bro.” Izzy peered through the common room door and glanced both ways. “Where’s your room? This place is bigger than it looks outside.”

 

Max twisted in her grip, pointing down the short hallway to the left. “End of the hall, on the right. Door should be open—my roommate’s probably still in there.”

 

Izzy popped her gum and strode forward, making Max sway like a pendulum. Two guys came out of the bathroom and did a double-take, eyes on her thick thighs and the way her shorts rode up. One whistled. Then a group of girls passed, slowing and whispering as they checked out the confident goth girl striding through their dorm. None noticed the three-inch naked guy in her palm. To them, Izzy was just another hot new face on campus. Max was invisible.

 

True to Max’s directions, his room was right at the end of the hall. Izzy reached his door without knocking and pushed it open with her hip.

 

The room was dim, lit only by a desk lamp and a phone screen. Zeke lounged on the bottom bunk, legs splayed, a thick joint glowing in his hand. A heavy cloud of smoke clung to the ceiling. He glanced up, then blinked at the curvy goth girl standing in the doorway—and the tiny naked guy cradled in her hand.

 

“Yo… what the… fuck?” Zeke muttered, eyes going wide before narrowing again in that hazy, half-focused way. He sat up straighter, the joint nearly slipping from his fingers. “Max? Dude, is that you?” A slow, stoned grin crept across his face as his gaze drifted from Max to Izzy’s curves, lingering on the way her cut-offs hugged her hips. “And who’s your friend here?”

 

Izzy’s expression flattened into pure annoyance. She tightened her grip on Max, and planted her free hand on her hip. “I’m Izzy. His step-sister.” She jerked her head toward the door. “And I need your room for actual important shit.”

 

“Oh,” said Zeke, brushing his hair back. “Word. I’m Zeke. I’m Max’s… well, we live together.”

 

“I can tell.” Izzy’s tone was flat, no-nonsense. “Out. Now.”

 

Zeke blinked a few times, processing through the fog. He chuckled low and shrugged, grabbing his vape and keys. “Alright, alright. No problem. Crazy day, man. Max, I, uh… I guess I’ll see you later, man.”

 

“Later, Zeke,” Max mumbled, watching the last vestiges of his first month of college slipping away in real time. Ordinarily, he’d hold his roommate up and ask him what the hell had happened last night—but as it was, he and Izzy had bigger matters to attend to.

 

Zeke stood up unsteadily and shuffled past them, shooting one last appreciative glance at Izzy before the door clicked shut behind him. Only then did Izzy look back down at Max.

 

“Man…” Izzy smirked, eyes flicking toward the closed door. “You see the piece on that guy? Had to have been at least seven inches soft.”

 

Max grimaced, cheeks burning. “Izzy…”

 

“What?” She shrugged, completely unbothered. “I’m just saying. Good to know my options.”

 

Max sighed. While his high school love life had been one long, humiliating dry spell, Izzy went through dirtbag boyfriends and random hookups like it was a competitive sport—and she always made sure Max got front-row seats. He’d walked in on her more times than he could count, heard the moans and thumping through the wall, seen the hickeys she wore like badges of honor. Now, she was already sizing up his roommate like new inventory—and the worst part was, he'd been expecting it.

 

Izzy strutted over to Max’s desk, dropped into the chair, and dumped him onto the hard wood like a half-finished snack. He staggered, barely catching himself before hitting his laptop. Then Izzy leaned in, her face blotting out everything with pale skin, black lipstick, and glinting metal. Her eyebrow and lip rings flashed in the lamplight as she fished out her phone, looking far too pleased with herself.

 

“Alright, let’s make this official.” Izzy drummed her fingers on the desk as she tapped the screen. The FaceTime tone chimed. Victoria picked up on the second ring, her familiar face appearing—makeup flawless, wavy black hair swept back, looking every bit the Mexican-American bombshell who'd once graced the covers of fashion magazines all over the world.

 

“Izzy, honey. You made it safe?” Victoria’s voice brimmed with her usual mom energy. Then her eyes shifted and widened slightly as Izzy angled the camera down to show Max. “Oh… Max! I... Hi, sweetie.” She didn’t sound horrified, exactly—more like recalculating a long-term plan that had just taken an unexpected detour. “I guess that explains why you haven’t answered any of my texts.”

 

Izzy jumped in before Max could speak, voice bright and matter-of-fact. “Yeah. Classic Maxie. Lil bro finally gets invited to a party, and some girl slips him some shrinking serum.”

 

“I had a feeling something like this would happen eventually.” Victoria shook her head slowly, lips pressing together in that disappointed-but-not-surprised way Max knew too well. “Max, sweetie… do you remember me telling you to watch your drink? This is exactly what I was worried about.” She sighed. "Frankly, I’m just glad it wasn’t anything worse."

 

Max rubbed his forehead, resisting the impulse to ask what, exactly, could be worse than this. The aftershocks of the usual Izzy-Victoria tag-team treatment hit him square in the chest. They always did this—closed ranks, made it sound like they were saving him while sliding the noose a little tighter. He felt the old helplessness settle in, along with a pang of resignation.

 

“Well, anyway…” Izzy said, waving a hand like she was done with the lecture. She nudged Max forward with the tip of her finger. “Lil bro’s got something he wants to tell you, Mom. Go ahead, Max.”

 

He swallowed, feeling the weight of both their stares. “Victoria… is this stuff really permanent?”

 

“I’m afraid so, honey.” Victoria’s expression softened, but there was no hesitation. “I’m sorry, I’m sure this is a lot to wake up to. But I’m glad Izzy found you before anyone else did. It’s like I always say, family looks out for family.”

 

Izzy tapped him again with her finger again, a clear prompt. He forced the words out. “Yeah. Well, in that case, I… I was wondering. Could Izzy maybe, like... take care of me down here? She’s already here, and, uh… it’d let me stay in school.”

 

Victoria didn’t doubt his interest for a second. Her only question came out warm and practical. “Well, obviously I'd love that. Is Izzy on board with this plan, too?”

 

Izzy leaned closer to the phone, grinning widely. “Oh, I’m totally on board, Mom. I mean, it's like you're always saying. I can't just keep bumming around at home forever. Plus, it means I get to spend more time with my favorite big brother.”

 

“Oh, that's wonderful, sweetie!” Victoria’s face broke into a delighted smile. She set down whatever she’d been holding and clapped her hands together. “Look at you two, back together and closer than ever. I love it.” She laughed softly. “Tell you what. Let me make a few calls. Believe it or not, the president of Ventus and I go way back.”

 

Max blinked, confused. If he’d known his stepmom was friends with the head of his school, he would have thought twice about coming here at all. The idea that Victoria had that kind of pull—and had never mentioned it—made his stomach sink even lower.

 

“Yeah,” Izzy laughed. “Way back to your lesbian phase.”

 

"Ancient history. Mostly." Victoria waved it off with a fond smile. “I’ll get the paperwork moving and text you both when I have the next steps. Hang tight. Love you.”

 

"Love you more!" Closing the call, Izzy lowered the phone and cracked another grin. “Looks like we’re officially roommates, lil bro.” She reached down and scooped him up again, the motion smoother this time but still dizzying. She stood, crossed to the bed, and sat down heavily. The mattress sank under her weight, tilting Max toward her thigh before she caught him and set him down on the top of the bedspread.

 

Izzy kicked off her black Converse, each landing with a dull thud and releasing a wave of warm, confined air. Next came the socks—damp, black, and reeking—peeled off and tossed aside. Her bare feet sprawled out onto the bed, toes flexing, soles shiny with sweat from the drive. The scent—earthy, rubbery, with a hint of salty sweat—wasn’t enough to knock him out. But it was more than enough to remind him exactly who was in charge.

 

She leaned back on her elbows, looking down at him with that familiar teasing glint. “God, my feet are wrecked after that drive.” Her tone went casual. “You always did give the best rubs back home. Remember how Mom used to make you help after my shifts at the mall?” One foot shifted closer, hovering just above the bedspread like an invitation. “Mind taking care of your big sis right now? For old times’ sake. And, y’know, to start things off on the right foot.” She bit her lip, smirking. “No pun intended.”

 

Max stared up at the wall of foot looming over him. The skin was soft but strong, faint lines from her socks still visible, a light sheen of moisture catching the light. His arms already ached just thinking about all the times he’d had to do this at normal size. Now, at three inches tall, it was like being asked to massage a couch. But he wasn’t stupid. Telling Izzy no right now would just make her mad, and turn the next few months—or however long she decided to keep him—into even more of an absolute nightmare. Survival meant sucking it up and staying on her good side, at least until he could figure out some kind of exit plan.

 

He stepped forward, placed both hands against the warm ball of her right foot, and pushed in. The flesh gave slightly under his weight, radiating heat. Izzy let out a low, pleased hum that vibrated through her leg and into the mattress.

 

“Yeah… just like that.” Izzy’s voice dropped to a lazy, satisfied purr. Her other foot shifted lazily, brushing against his back. “God, I missed this.”

 

He threw his whole body into it, kneading with both arms, every breath filling his nose and mouth with that salty, sour foot stench. Izzy’s toes flexed and curled overhead, sometimes brushing his shoulders—a not-so-subtle reminder that she could squash him flat any time she felt like it.

 

 

Without warning, Izzy ripped another long, lazy fart. It rolled out slow and deep, just as thick and heavy as her last one, the heat and stink washing over him like a filthy blanket. Max gagged, eyes watering, but said nothing.

 

“Oops,” Izzy chuckled. “Sorry, bro. I got Taco Bell on the way down.” She didn’t sound sorry at all.

 

“You know,” she continued, her voice drifting with contentment, “I think this is gonna be one hell of a semester.” Her foot pressed forward just enough to make him stagger before easing off again. “And don’t worry, bro. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. ‘Family looks out for family,’ right?”

 

Max kept rubbing, arms on fire, mind panicking and embarrassed. What would the next few months look like, now that he’d basically signed his soul over to his stepsister? The dorm seemed like it was getting even bigger around him, the air was thick with sweat and dread, and his future increasingly felt like one big, cosmic joke.