The weekend went by too fast. Brett tried not to think about what had happened Friday afternoon, and when he could muster some thoughts he was torn in how he felt about the treatment. He knew that there were limits to his fantasies, and this had probably blown them away, but he was curious if he'd ever end up under Ms. Olivier's feet again. Likely not; there were many other things that they had to undertake as part of training.

After class Tuesday, he faithfully returned to Ms. Olivier's room and saw her wearing open-toed shoes. He discerned quickly that today would involve different shrinking activities, none of which were nearly as invasive. Ms. Olivier picked up Brett while shrunk in his leotard. She gave him a little walkie-talkie this time - it strapped to his wrist and he could push a button to talk. Soon they had a communication protocol going, and she worked out how much pressure she could apply with her finger before it began to hurt when she picked him up.
Other activities followed - She told him to hide somewhere in a cluttered corner and timed herself while finding him hiding. She spoke in hushed terms and discerned the right volume to communicate with him so her loud voice wouldn't be painful. She told him to walk or run away from her and found an effective way to gently pick him up while moving. Far from testing his limits today, it seemed like there was a genuine concern for safety this time.
But after she had done these activities and taken her notes, she asked Brett if he could take a rain check for their next session which would have him confined to a "different space" - she looked down as she said it and seemed slightly embarrassed, as though she wasn't in the mood for being a domineering strict teacher now.

But it made Brett curious, so he asked: "Why do we need to stop early? Do you have to go somewhere?"
Sondra didn't come up with a lie, she just sighed: "No, but I'd rather not tell you why - are you sure you want to do this today?"
Brett was so intrigued by her reticence, and he felt like it might be simply designed to spare him something. "No, I'd rather not wait. Most other days after school this week I don't have as much free time." He felt very grown-up saying it.
"Alright Brett. We're going to proceed with our next round of confinement on the teacher's person. And this time you are going to pick your poison."
Brett's heartrate started to rise. He waited to hear what she had to offer.
"You're going to either go into my mouth or under my butt. You might have to do the other one later, though. Which do you prefer?"

Brett's heart pounded and he probably turned a bit red at that point. He dwelled on the surroundings as time seemed to stop for a moment. Could she really just say that to him? What purpose did this serve? (Did it serve any purpose last week either? Maybe the shoe part alone, but the caressing with a sweaty foot and forced consumption of toe gunk?) Would anyone else hear? (No, probably not, she was able to talk in a bare whisper to him at his size). And in that moment he realized she was chewing gum. It smelled faintly minty. So clearly she wasn't all worried about him taking a dive in her mouth unless she was worried that his body would taste bad. It had to be self-serving, right?
On the other hand, being smushed under her ass... It was appealing in a sense. He wondered if she didn't want to do it just because of modesty. But he would have to do it eventually for the training, right? Why not today?

Brett sputtered a few words, and he said "W-w-we can put me under your butt."
Ms. Olivier's face dropped slightly. She winced. "Okay Brett. I have a little undergarment with a zipper pocket on the inside (Should keep you from seeing anything, she thought). My chair is highly padded so I think you'll be fine. I'm going to sit at my desk for 45 minutes to an hour."

He saw her left hand reach behind her and a very slight zipping sound emerge. It was so faint. He wondered how small this compartment was.
Then in one fluid motion, she picked him up with her right hand and pulled out the waist of her skirt with her left. She dangled him in front of the gap expectantly. In front of him was a breathtakingly large ass crack, with rich dark skin and healthy, round, bulbous shape.
Then she released him into the zipper pocket. He had a very minor impact, as it was all mesh. For Sondra's part, she didn't realize that it was basically see-through mesh and he could still see where he was. Not bad, he thought.
Then with her right hand free she tried to zip up the pocket. The damn thing got stuck so easily, she thought. Yanking with irritation immediately, she eventually had to admit defeat and start the punishment. She said "well, it will at least give you an extra hole for ventilation. See you in an hour."
He had thought she said 45 minutes, but now could not remember. This was going to be a long while.

As the waistband came back, he lost his light. He could no longer see where he was, but he could feel the immmense warmth of her booty. As she sat down, he felt as though a big pillow was weighing down on him, but he didn't mind. It still did feel nice at that stage.

But then... he felt something. There was a bit of a groan around him. Her bowels were starting to sound like the plumbing on an old house.
Then he was hit by a fart. Ms. Olivier had farted on top of his body. He felt the air become electric with sulfurous smell. It had been brief but it seemed like a large volume of gas. He coughed slightly and asked Ms. Olivier why she had farted on him.

"Brett... you were warned that that we should do this another day. I've been eating these sugar-free gummy bears today and they give me such foul gas that I've never had before. That was only a tiny toot compared to what I was doing during lunch. Unfortunately, I can't quite hold them back, so you're going to get farted on. Possibly many times during your captivity. At least you'll have the pocket to shield you somewhat."
Brett didn't have that even, it had a hole in the top when she couldn't zip it shut! In fact, it was a big enough gap that he could fall out if she stood up and shifted her weight a certain way.

"Brett, I have to also tell you that I'm disappointed. You were ordered previously to not speak to me on the walkie talkie during the confinement training unless you seriously needed help. Because of this, I'm going to punish you by shrinking you a little more. And I am going to make no attempt to save you from my farts. I think there are still a few of those gummy bears left."
She abruptly stood up, and Brett was hurled toward the hole of the pocket due to the motion. His arm snagged in the hole, but he dared not speak up to complain again.
But then he suddenly saw his surroundings grow. As Ms. Olivier grew even bigger and passed in front of a light fixture on the wall, he could see the giant ass in front of him ever so slightly. Except there was no longer a fabric layer in between them: he had slipped out of the pocket during the extra shrink activity.

The big ass was now warmer than ever and completely surrounding him. He felt the smooth skin all around him. But there was now nothing shielding him from the farts at all, and he felt them all. Some felt dry and hot, some felt long and mercifully weak. The most amazing experience was the first wet fart, which felt much like a bubble being popped and smelled awful, but worst of all seemed to coat him in a film of musty ass sweat. The odor was intoxicatingly present everywhere.

The pace of the farts was increasing. Someone entering her room would now be able to smell it from 20 feet away, he was certain. He could hear Ms. Olivier become restless as her bowels continued to bother her. They wouldn't make it an hour at this rate. He might pass out from a lack of oxygen. It felt like his head was breathing from a scuba tank connected directly to her anus, that everything he could take in came from his damn teacher's asshole.
But it turned out to be Ms. Olivier who cracked first. She stood up and half-ran out of the classroom to the ladies' room. Brett was in her underwear getting jostled around by her walking, and she let out one more toot before crashing into a stall and pulling down her underwear. Brett scrambled to stay entangled with the underwear and not fall in the toilet. He managed to stay connected to it, but he couldn't find his way back to the pocket or see where he was. The underwear had all rolled up as she pulled them off her.

The sounds he heard were definitely not making him look forward to returning to the ass. Ms. Olivier was groaning slightly as she pushed out a combination of solid and liquid matter interspersed with more toots. She was not sounding happy about it but seemed to keep her composure. There was nobody else in the bathroom with them but she didn't want to groan too loudly.

Brett waited. Then he heard the door open. Someone else was now in the ladies' room with them.