Shrunk! Shrunken First Semester: Lost in the Loser House chapter 1 by maximally

Max woke up with his face mashed against something cold, hard, and strangely textured. His head throbbed. His muscles ached. His stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. The lingering taste of stale beer and something thicker, sweeter, and vaguely chemical clung to his dry mouth. When he tried to open his eyes, the light stabbed straight through his skull.

 

He had no idea how long he’d been out or where he was. The only thing he knew for certain was the date: Saturday, September 30th. One month into his first semester of college, things weren’t exactly going the way he’d hoped.

 

He’d spent most of his senior spring fantasizing about moments like this—freedom, new people, wild parties, maybe even a girlfriend—but so far he’d made frustratingly little progress. Barely passing his classes. No clubs. No teams. No friends besides his roommate Zeke, who was stuck with him either way. And until last night, not a single party invite.

 

Ventus University still carried the bones of the women’s college it used to be. Four girls to every guy. That ratio had looked like a gift on paper. In practice it just meant the entire social world revolved around the House System, and as a guy Max was locked out of every house that mattered. So he’d done what he always did when the world felt too big: stayed in his room, gamed, watched anime, and told himself the breakthrough would come later.

 

Last night it finally had. Zeke had gotten permission to bring him to a party. Max, nervous and inexperienced, had pre-gamed harder than he should have. Fourteen hours later all he had to show for it was the hangover from hell and a complete blank where the rest of the night should have been.

 

Then he opened his eyes properly, and everything got worse.

 

He wasn’t in his dorm. He was completely naked. And he was tiny—action-figure tiny. Lying on top of a giant coffee table, surrounded by pencils and a half-empty Red Bull can that towered over him like a silo. Three inches tall, maybe less.

 

“This can’t be happening…”

 

The air hit him next. Stale weed, old takeout, sweat, and something thicker, sweeter, and unmistakably eggy—the smell of pure, unwashed ass. Cabinets full of cum-stained anime figurines and sex toys. Deflated bean bags with visible skid marks. A ratty futon buried under chip bags, energy drink cans, and a mountain of used tissues. Posters of Loona, Lucario, and a dozen anthro girls whose names he didn’t know.

 

House Proserpina. The Loser House. The dumping ground for every feral, foul, or fetid “problem case” the other houses didn’t want. If the jocks in Diana were the strongest and the e-girls in Fortuna the hottest, the girls in Proserpina were simply the grossest. And right now Max was naked, three inches tall, and sitting in the middle of their common room like an unclaimed toy.

 

He was still trying to decide whether to risk the drop to the floor when the door behind him opened.

 

The eggy, musky smell intensified—thicker, hotter, more personal.

 

Daisy “Buttzilla” Flores filled the doorway.

 

Six-four. Three hundred and fifty pounds of soft, heavy curves. Faded gray sweatpants stretched to the absolute limit, ratty t-shirt dark with old sweat, flip-flops that looked ridiculous under the mass of her. Greasy dark hair, acne, visible sleep deprivation. And underneath all of it, a round, warm face with full lips and big brown eyes that would have been cute if she’d ever put in the effort.

 

She yawned, jaw cracking, and scratched lazily at her massive ass. The fabric pulled tight. A faint, wet-sounding prrt escaped her as she did it—small, but from Max’s perspective it was a low, ominous rumble that made the air itself feel thicker.

 

Max couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. His tiny naked body was completely exposed on the coffee table, and the biggest, grossest, most terrifying girl on campus was less than twenty feet away and getting closer with every lazy step.

 

If even a fraction of the legends were true, he had every reason to be afraid for his life.

 

He was still weighing which death would be less humiliating when her voice cut through the air—soft, almost shy.

 

“Oh my gosh…”

 

Before he could process the gentleness in her tone, she was on him.

 

The world went dark, hot, and wet.

 

His face was suddenly buried in a dense, tangled thatch of coarse pubic hair soaked with sweat. Below that was the overwhelming reality of her pussy—fat, swollen, and filthy. Thick, slippery folds parted around his tiny head as she pressed him in deep. Hot, viscous juices immediately coated his face, his chest, his arms. The smell hit him like a truck: ripe, fermented pussy musk, days-old sweat, and the unmistakable tang of a girl who didn’t bother with daily showers. It was thick enough to taste. Or drown in.

 

“Please,” Max sputtered, kicking and pushing against the slick, yielding flesh. “Let me go—”

 

She couldn’t hear him. To her he was just a tiny, squirming weight against the most sensitive part of her body. He felt her shiver. A low, involuntary sound rumbled in her chest.

 

When she finally pulled her hand out of her waistband, Max was left behind—clinging desperately to a thick strand of her pubic hair with both arms, his legs dangling over the hot, slimy entrance of her cunt. Every tiny movement made more of her juices smear across his naked skin. He was already soaked to the bone in her.

 

As Daisy turned and walked out of the common room, each step sent fresh ripples through her massive body. Max swung helplessly with every sway of her hips, his face constantly bumping and dragging against her hot, hairy pussy. The friction, the heat, the constant flood of fresh slick—it was too much. His lungs burned with her scent. His tiny cock, traitor that it was, was rock hard against her skin.

 

A few of her lewder dorm mates called out as she passed.

 

“Hey, Buttzilla. When are you gonna let me eat that fat ass?”

 

“Not today.”

 

“Sup, B-Z. I just got a new vibrator. You wanna come help me test it out?”

 

“Busy.”

 

“Yo, Flores! You around tonight? Just torrented this crazy new hentai series—”

 

“Later.”

 

Her voice stayed flat, almost bored, but Max could feel the tension in her body. Every time she took a step her thighs rubbed together, grinding him harder against her. She was getting wetter. He was slipping.

 

By the time she reached her door, Max’s grip was failing. His arms burned. His face was completely glazed in her juices. He was seconds from falling straight down her pant leg when she finally slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

 

Then a hand came down and peeled him away from the humid, slimy confines of her crotch.

 

They were in her room.

 

An improvised king-sized bed made of two full mattresses pressed together. Nightstand overflowing with lube and sex toys. Desk sagging under an aging laptop and dozens of anime figurines. Floor covered in dirty clothes, empty chip bags, pizza boxes, and more toys. Walls layered with prints of thick anthro girls, giantess vore, fart comics, and hentai that made his stomach twist. The air was swampy, years of unopened windows and unwashed body creating its own microclimate.

 

Then the room got noticeably warmer—and stinkier.

 

BBBBBBRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP

 

A fresh gust of eggy air washed over him. Rotten eggs, spoiled dairy, and the deep greasy funk of a girl who held nothing back. Max gagged violently, coughing and choking as the cloud surrounded him.

 

“Oh!” Daisy brought him up to eye level. Her face went bright red. “S-sorry about that, little guy.”

 

For a moment they just stared at each other—him dangling naked and dripping between her fingers, her looking exhausted, guilty, and strangely shy for someone who had just hotboxed him with the worst fart of his life.

 

“I didn’t want anyone else seeing you out there,” she mumbled. “I’m Daisy. What’s your name?”

 

Max’s brain was still rebooting. After everything—being shoved into her pants, nearly drowning in her pussy, clinging to her pubes while she walked, and then getting crop-dusted by a fart that could kill a horse—he couldn’t form words.

 

Daisy noticed the thick layer of her own slime still coating him and winced. “Oh! Here, let me…”

 

She brought her other hand up and, with surprising gentleness, used her thumb to carefully wipe the worst of the mess from his face and hair. Her touch was warm, a little clammy, but careful. She set him down on the edge of her nightstand next to a half-empty bottle of lube and several huge, funky-smelling sex toys.

 

“D-Don’t eat me!” Max finally snapped out of his frozen stupor and scrambled away. “Please!”

 

Daisy’s face fell. “Eat you? Why would I—” She saw the genuine terror in his eyes and sighed, shoulders slumping. “Look… I don’t know what you’ve heard about me. But I’m probably the best person who could’ve found you in this house.”

 

Max stared at her, still panting. “You… you shoved me in your—” He couldn’t finish. He just nodded toward the front of her sweatpants.

 

“I know.” She looked mortified. “I’m sorry. I panicked. You know how the girls here are. If any of them had seen an unattended tiny guy, they would’ve…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to.

 

Max swallowed. His legs were shaking. “Couldn’t you have just… put me in your pocket or something?”

 

Daisy’s eyes dropped to the floor. Her voice got even smaller. “I had to scent you. Just to be safe. It’s… how it works here. If you smell like me—really smell like me—then everyone else knows you’re claimed. They won’t touch you. It’s like calling dibs. So nobody tries to take you or use you while I figure out what to do.”

 

Max blinked, trying to process the casual horror of it. “So you… marked me. With your…”

 

Daisy’s blush deepened until it reached her ears. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I know it’s super weird and gross. I just… I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you before I could even talk to you.”

 

She looked so genuinely ashamed that, for a second, Max’s terror flickered. This was Buttzilla. The living legend. The girl whose name alone made people cross the street. And she was standing there, shoulders hunched, apologizing because she’d been trying to protect him in the only way she knew how in this fucked-up house.

 

“It’s…” He took a shaky breath. The smell of her room was still thick in his lungs. His whole body was still tacky with her dried juices. “It’s fine. I guess. My name’s Max.”

 

Daisy’s expression softened with relief. “Nice to meet you, Max. Officially.” She gave him a small, nervous smile. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. Maybe I can make it up to you?”

 

Max stared up at her—this massive, messy, terrifyingly smelly girl who had just shoved him into her unwashed pussy to keep him safe from people even worse than her—and grimaced. “…How?”

 

“Well…” Daisy’s eyes drifted toward her bed. She shifted her weight, the mattress creaking under her. “Want me to clean you off?”

 

Max was still standing on her nightstand, naked and tacky with dried pussy juice. The idea of getting clean sounded incredible.

 

“I… s-sure. Where’s the bathroom?”

 

Daisy shook her head. “You really don’t wanna go in there.” She looked like she was about to say more, then thought better of it. “I was thinking something a little more… hands-on. Maybe it’s just easier if I show you.”

 

Before Max could ask what that meant, her huge hand closed around him again.

 

He barely had time to yelp before she lifted him. For one terrifying second he was sure she was bringing him to her mouth to eat him. His struggles only made her fingers tighten.

 

“Wait—Daisy, no—DAISY!”

 

Her lips parted.

 

The heat hit him first.

 

Then the wet.

 

Her mouth closed around him like a hot, slick cave. Max’s entire world became darkness, humid breath, and the overwhelming presence of her tongue. It was massive—thick, soft, and shockingly agile. It slid beneath him, lifting his tiny body and pressing him against the roof of her mouth. Sour, slightly sweet saliva flooded over him in waves, coating every inch of his skin as her tongue began to work.

 

It wasn’t gentle.

 

Daisy’s tongue curled around him, dragging slowly from his feet to his head, then back again. It pressed between his legs, rubbing insistently. Every time it found his cock, Max’s whole body jerked. The sensation was too much—too hot, too wet, too intimate. He could feel the texture of her taste buds, the way her saliva clung to him, thick and viscous.

 

“Mmm,” purred Daisy, settling into bed and sneaking a hand into the front of her sweatpants, savoring the taste of her helpless plaything and feeling herself getting wetter by the second. Max tasted good. Better than any of her usual fantasies. He was real. He was moving. He was making these tiny, helpless noises every time her tongue dragged over his cock again.

 

She pressed him harder against the roof of her mouth and sucked gently.

 

Max’s mind was fracturing.

 

Part of him was still screaming in terror. This was Buttzilla. He was in her mouth. She could swallow him without even trying. But another, much louder part of him was lost in the heat and the pressure and the way her tongue kept returning to his cock like it was the only thing that mattered. He was moaning openly now, hips twitching against the slick muscle.

 

“Daisy—fuck—Daisy, I—”

 

“Mmmhh…” The vibration of her voice rolled through his entire body. She was touching herself harder now, legs spreading wider on the bed. She licked him in slow, deliberate strokes, tasting every inch of him while her fingers worked frantically between her own thighs.

 

Max couldn’t hold it.

 

The orgasm hit him so hard his vision whited out. He came against her tongue with a broken cry, his whole body seizing up as pulse after pulse of cum was immediately washed away in her saliva.

 

Daisy felt it.

 

The tiny, desperate twitching. The way he went rigid against her tongue. It pushed her over the edge.

 

Her thighs clamped together around her hand. Her back arched. A deep, muffled moan vibrated through her mouth as she came—hard. The bed shook beneath her. For one terrifying second her throat worked like she was about to swallow on instinct.

 

Max felt it. The way her tongue pressed him back. The sudden tightening of everything around him.

 

Then she stopped herself.

 

With shaking hands, Daisy carefully reached into her mouth and pulled him out. Thick strands of saliva and his own cum stretched between his body and her lips. She was panting, face flushed dark, eyes glassy. Very gently, she placed him on the warm, soft swell of her chest, just above her breasts.

 

For another long moment, neither of them spoke.

 

Max lay there in a puddle of her spit, chest heaving, staring up at the ceiling. He was even slimier than before. His whole body tingled with aftershocks.

 

Daisy was the first to break the silence.

 

“Wow,” she breathed.

 

“Yeah,” Max managed. His voice sounded distant. “Wow.”

 

She hesitated. “…Was that, uh… your first time? Like, with anyone?”

 

Max swallowed. “Yeah. It was.”

 

Daisy went quiet for a second. Then, very softly: “Same.”

 

He turned his head to look at her. She was staring at the ceiling, one arm thrown over her eyes. Her face was still red.

 

“I… I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I was supposed to be cleaning you off, and…” Her voice cracked a little. “I almost forgot you were a person. I just get so pent up sometimes, and when you’re that small, and you taste like that, and you’re moving on my tongue, I just—”

 

“Hey.” Max’s voice was surprisingly steady. “It’s okay.”

 

Daisy lowered her arm and looked at him, surprised.

 

“I mean it,” he said. “I… I got off too. Like, really hard. I’m not gonna lie and say it wasn’t kinda intense, but…” He felt his own face heating up. “It felt good. You made it feel good.”

 

She blinked at him, genuinely taken aback. “You’re not just saying that because you’re scared of me?”

 

Max let out a weak laugh. “I mean, I am scared of you. A little. But I’m also not lying.”

 

Daisy’s expression softened into something small and vulnerable. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but before she could, her body betrayed her again.

 

Prraaaaaapppppp

 

The fart was quieter than the last one, but no less potent. A hot, eggy wave rolled up from between her legs and hit Max directly in the face. He coughed hard, waving a hand in front of his nose.

 

Daisy went scarlet. “Sorry. I thought that one would be quieter.”

 

“It’s fine,” Max wheezed, still coughing. “I’m… getting used to it.”

 

She looked mortified, but also strangely touched when he didn’t freak out. After another moment she gave him a small, shy smile—the warmest one yet.

 

“You’re really nice, you know that?”

 

Max smiled back, still a little dizzy. “I try.”

 

They lay there in silence for a few more seconds. Then Daisy spoke again.

 

“So, uh… speaking of kissing. Would you wanna… maybe do that again? The mouth thing, I mean. Or, like… actual kissing. With me. If you want.”

 

Max knew he should probably say no. He knew this was insane. He knew that getting involved with the most infamous girl in House Proserpina was probably the worst decision he could make while three inches tall and completely at her mercy.

 

But his body was still buzzing. And when he looked at her—flushed, embarrassed, hopeful, and trying so hard not to be the monster everyone said she was—he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

 

“…Sure.”

 

Daisy’s face lit up. “C-cool!”

 

She picked him up carefully and brought him to her lips. This time she didn’t put him in her mouth right away. She pressed him gently against them, letting him feel the softness, the warmth. Then she kissed him—really kissed him. Her lips moved against his tiny body, slow and surprisingly tender at first.

 

Max kissed back as best he could, pressing his hands and face against her lower lip.

 

Daisy made a soft, needy sound and kissed harder.

 

Her tongue slid out, warm and slick, and dragged slowly across his face and chest. She wasn’t trying to be careful anymore. She was lost in it again—the feeling of someone kissing her back, of having a real person respond to her instead of just her own hand and a bag of gummy bears. She licked him again, slower this time, savoring the taste of his skin mixed with her own saliva.

 

Max gasped against her mouth, overwhelmed all over again.

 

She held him there, pinned gently between her lips and tongue, breathing hard through her nose. For a few long, breathless moments, neither of them moved.

 

By the time Daisy loosened her grip and pulled back, Max was shaking. His whole body felt wrung out—lips tingling, skin still wet with her saliva, heart hammering against his ribs.

 

“T-thank you,” he managed, voice shaky but sincere. “That was… amazing.”

 

Daisy smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. There was something sad behind it now. “Yeah. You too.”

 

She hesitated, then carefully set him down on her chest again. For a moment she just looked at him, chewing on her bottom lip like she was working up the courage to say something.

 

“Listen, uh… before we go any further, there’s something you should probably know.”

 

Max’s stomach dropped. After everything that had already happened today, he wasn’t sure he could handle more bad news. “What is it?”

 

Daisy took a deep breath, her massive chest rising beneath him. “I’m guessing you’ve never heard of shrinking serum?”

 

“Uh… no. Can’t say I have.”

 

“It’s pretty niche. Really expensive if you buy it, but a few girls around here make their own batches. You slip a little into someone’s drink and they wake up tiny the next day.” She paused. “There’s always a couple guys like you who end up in here every semester.”

 

Max went very still.

 

The idea that this wasn’t some random, one-in-a-million accident should have been comforting. Instead, the way Daisy was saying it made his skin prickle with dread.

 

“Here as in… Proserpina?” he asked carefully. “What happens to them?”

 

Daisy winced. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere else. “They get claimed. The problem is… most of the serums the girls make are permanent.”

 

The words hit him like a physical blow.

 

“You mean…” Max’s voice came out small. “I’m stuck like this? Forever?”

 

Daisy didn’t answer right away. She just looked at him with those tired brown eyes, full of quiet guilt.

 

“I’m really, really sorry, Max.”

 

For a few seconds Max couldn’t speak.

 

All morning the one thing that had kept him from completely falling apart was the desperate, stubborn hope that this was temporary. That he could find a way back to normal. That he could still have the college life he’d spent years fantasizing about—classes, parties, maybe even a girlfriend someday.

 

Now that fragile hope was gone.

 

He sat down heavily on the warm curve of her breast, staring at nothing. His old life—his body, his future, every plan he’d ever made—had been erased in one night by some bored chemistry major with a god complex. And the best-case scenario was apparently becoming the live-in pet of the single grossest, loneliest girl in the entire sorority.

 

Daisy must have seen the devastation on his face, because she rushed to fill the silence.

 

“But it could be worse!” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “At least I found you first, right? If you stick with me, I can keep you safe. No one else in the house will mess with you if they know you’re mine— I mean, if they know you’re with me.”

 

Max looked up at her. “Here? In this room? Forever?”

 

“Well… yeah.” Daisy rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly self-conscious. “We could do stuff together. Play games, watch movies, hang out… make out some more, if you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’d take care of you.”

 

“Forever,” he repeated quietly.

 

Daisy’s shoulders slumped. “I mean… I’m happy to ask around. See if anyone knows how to reverse it. I’m just saying, based on what I’ve seen… I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high.”

 

Max swallowed hard and forced himself to nod. Falling apart completely wouldn’t help anything. And no matter how bleak this was, Daisy was still the only person in this entire building who seemed to actually give a shit about whether he lived or died.

 

“Okay,” he said, voice rough. “So… what now?”

 

Daisy thought for a moment, one finger tapping against her chin. “Well… I guess we could see if Hazel’s around.”

 

Max’s head snapped up. “Hazel? As in, Hazel Berry?”

 

“Yeah.” Daisy made a face. “She’s… a lot. But she’s also the smartest person I know. And she’s a chem major. If anyone in this house might know something about the serum, it’s her.”

 

Max had heard the infamous sophomore’s name before. Usually whispered, usually followed by phrases like “stay the fuck away from her” or “she got banned from three different Discord servers for being too unhinged.”

 

Still.

 

If there was even a chance she could help…

 

“You think she’d actually help me?” he asked.

 

Daisy shrugged. “She might. Or she might try to turn you into one of her experiments. It’s kind of a coin flip with her.” She gave him a small, crooked smile. “But she likes me. And if I ask her nicely, she’ll probably at least hear us out.”

 

Max took a shaky breath. The idea of putting his fate in the hands of another Proserpina girl made his stomach twist. But sitting here doing nothing while his old life slipped further away felt even worse.

 

“…Alright. Let’s go see her.”

 

“Cool.” Daisy sat up carefully, cupping one hand behind him so he didn’t tumble off her chest. “I’m guessing you don’t want to go back in my underwear for the walk over?”

 

Max let out a weak laugh despite everything. “Yeah. Maybe not.”

 

“Fair.” She gently picked him up and, after a moment’s consideration, slid him carefully into the right front pocket of her sweatpants. The fabric was warm, a little damp, and smelled strongly of her. “Here we go. Try not to fall out.”

 

Max sank into the pocket, surrounded by the heat of her thigh and the constant, heavy sway of her body as she stood up. Every step made the fabric shift around him. He could feel the powerful muscles of her leg flexing, the faint jiggle of her thigh with each step, and underneath it all, the ever-present musk of her unwashed body clinging to the inside of the pocket.

 

Daisy paused at the door, one hand resting protectively over the pocket like she was making sure he was still there.

 

Then she stepped out into the hallway.