Back to the Lab Shrunken First Semester: Trapped with the Goths chapter 3 by maximally

The second the broken doorway was behind them, Kali pulled out her phone with one hand and kept walking.

 

Max felt every step as a slow, powerful flex of the massive cheeks that held him. Kali’s ass was a different order of prison from Ophelia’s—broader, heavier, hotter, and sealed inside tight leather that let almost nothing escape. Sweat had already begun to collect in the deepest part of the crack. The smell was older, denser, layered with the ghost of every release she had cut that morning and the ones still building from the burritos she had not yet eaten. Max’s face was pressed directly against the wrinkled ring of her asshole. Every few steps it pulsed against him, warm and alive, as if the muscle itself was aware of the tiny body trapped there.

 

Kali’s voice rumbled above him, muffled by flesh and leather but still clear enough to reach him.

 

“Heather. Me. Found our missing serum.”

 

A high, energetic voice answered on speaker, loud enough to cut through the walls of muscle and fat.

 

“What? Where?!”

 

“You know that new girl, Kidd? Nepo case. She gave the whole thing to some other fuckin’ loser freshie.” Kali’s free hand gave her own ass a casual slap that sent a jolt straight through Max. The cheeks clenched hard around him for a second in response. “Anyway, I’m coming down to the lab right now. See you soon.”

 

“Now? Fuck. I’m kinda busy right now.”

 

Kali stopped walking for a second. Max felt the sudden stillness, then the slow rub of her thumb against her forehead somewhere far above him.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“It’s Parents’ Weekend, remember? My mom showed up early so I have to show her around. But I can call the contractor?”

 

Kali’s sigh vibrated through her core and into Max’s body.  

 

“The contractor? Really?”

 

“I know, it’s not ideal. Just… give me a couple hours?”

 

“Fine. See if you can get the contractor over here. But you’re gonna have to make this up to me.”

 

Heather’s voice dropped into something breathier.  

 

“Yeah? What are you thinking?”

 

“I’m thinking at least one rimming session every day for a month. To start. Now call the contractor.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

Kali hung up without another word and started walking again.

 

The rest of the trip downstairs was a blur of heat, pressure, and intermittent gas. Kali cut three more silent-but-deadly releases on the way—each one a slow, pressurized leak that had nowhere to go except into Max’s face. The leather trapped everything. The smell grew richer and more complex with every step, mixing the earlier sulfurous blasts with newer, heavier notes. By the time she reached the lower hallway Max’s thoughts had gone soft and fuzzy at the edges. He was still conscious, but only just. The only things that remained sharp were the smell, the constant humid pressure, and the knowledge that he was being carried like a piece of lint between the cheeks of the scariest girl in House Juno.

 

He smelled Hazel before he saw her.

 

Even sealed inside Kali’s ass, the new scent cut through: strong pussy, stale sweat, and the particular sour-sweet note of someone who had been gooning for hours without washing. When Kali finally reached back, hooked two fingers into her crack, and pried him free, the open air of the lab hit like a physical blow.

 

Max blinked hard.  

 

Purple LED strips lit a large room of black walls and black-and-white tile. Shelves of beakers, vials, microscopes, and computers lined every surface. The air itself felt slightly chemical, undercut by something warmer and filthier.

 

And standing just inside the door was Hazel.

 

Plump, bespectacled, buck-toothed, greasy brown hair pulled into a messy half-ponytail that looked like it had not seen a brush in days. Striped blouse wrinkled and stained under the arms. Polka-dot sweatpants that had clearly been lived in. Acne across her cheeks. She grinned the moment she saw the tiny figure dangling from Kali’s fingers, and the grin showed every crooked tooth.

 

“You’re on time,” Kali said. “That’s a new one.”

 

“Heather caught me mid-goon sesh.” Hazel’s grin widened. Her voice was nasal and completely unapologetic. “But she said you’d pay me in used undies if I got over here early. Now, where’s the goods?”

 

Kali answered by holding Max up between them.

 

“Oooh.” Hazel’s eyes went huge behind her smudged glasses. “I never took you for the miniguy type, K.”

 

“I told you not to call me that. And that’s not what this is about.”

 

Max was still trying to get his bearings when Hazel reached out with sticky fingers and took him. Her skin smelled strongly of the same fishy, unwashed scent that had announced her presence—pussy and sweat and whatever she had been doing to herself before the call. She dangled him in front of her face, turning him slowly like a specimen on a slide.

 

“Hiya, miniguy. How’d you end up so small?”

 

Max’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. The combination of residual Kali-stink still coating his skin and the fresh wave of Hazel’s breath was almost enough to make him black out again.

 

Kali crossed her arms, leather jacket creaking.  

 

“One of our new pledges dosed him with a full vial of that new serum you made for us. The experimental one.”

 

Hazel’s eyebrows shot up so hard her glasses slipped down her nose.  

 

“That one? Whoa, that’s hardcore. This guy’s lucky he’s not dead.”

 

“I am?” Max managed, voice thin and rough from hours of breathing nothing but ass.

 

“And he can still talk? Far out.” Hazel brought him closer and took an unapologetic sniff, nose almost touching his chest. “Seems like you’ve already been getting your money’s worth out of him, too.”

 

From Max’s perspective the interaction was no more pleasant. Up close, Hazel’s breath positively reeked—stale and slightly sweet under the stronger notes. Not that he was in any position to say so.

 

Kali’s expression stayed flat.  

 

“Compared to everything we originally planned to do with that serum, this isn’t exactly the return on investment we were hoping for.”

 

Hazel shrugged, still turning Max between her sticky fingers like she was reluctant to give him back.  

 

“Well… it shouldn’t be too hard to fix that.” She scrunched her face in thought, buck teeth worrying at her lower lip. “Serum’s designed to bond with the subject’s DNA. In theory, all I’d have to do is cook up another one that makes it come back out in his excretions.”

 

Kali’s nose wrinkled.  

 

“His excretions?”

 

“Get your mind out of the gutter, K. Not like that.” Hazel snorted, clearly entertained by the implication anyway. “Sweat, cum, that kind of thing. Instead of making a whole new batch from scratch, you turn this guy into a one-man serum factory.”

 

Max felt a fresh wave of cold dread cut through the residual heat still clinging to his skin. The words settled over him with the same finality as the leather pants had earlier.

 

Kali considered for a long moment, red contacts unreadable.  

 

“And you can do that?”

 

“You give me what I need, and I can have something for you by the end of the day.”

 

“Fine.” Kali rubbed her forehead. “You fix this, and I’ll get these panties good and gross for you.”

 

Hazel’s grin turned pure gooner—wide, wet, and completely shameless.  

 

“Sounds like a deal to me.” She held Max back out toward Kali with visible reluctance. “Guessing you want your miniguy back in the meantime?”

 

“You don’t need him to make the new serum?”

 

“Nah. I got it all up here.” Hazel tapped her temple with one sticky finger, then winked. “Unless you want me to hang onto him?”

 

“No. I’ll keep him.”

 

Kali took Max back, turned him once in her fingers as if confirming he was still intact, and then shoved him straight down the back of her leather pants again. The familiar heat and smell closed around him like a fist. This time the cheeks flexed harder, pressing him deeper until his face was once more flush against the thick, wrinkled ring of her asshole. The leather sealed tight.

 

“Just text Heather what you need,” Kali said over her shoulder. “She’ll put in a work order. I’ll be back later.”

 

“Cool.” Hazel’s voice followed them toward the door, thick with open envy. “Man… lucky guy, huh?”

 

Kali’s low chuckle vibrated through the flesh that imprisoned Max.

 

“Depends on your definition of luck.”

 

She sealed the leather one final time, cut one more long, spicy blast directly into his face—

 

BBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP

 

—and walked out of the lab without looking back.

 

The smell of her, trapped and concentrated, was the only thing Max had left to breathe.