The mighty seats that dotted the school lab's grey landscape would make it easier for your super-scale Senpai to spot you. And if President Matsudo saw you in this diminutive state, you're sure she'd want you to stretch your legs and experiment with your new body... Or scold you for messing with her scientific concoctions. Or mistake you for a bug, and snuff you mercilessly beneath her towering loafers. All the more reason to stay off the ground, where every step from a normal human could mean death.

As another shrunken explorer once said: "Gentlemen... to adventure!"

You scale the side of the chair, putting one hand before another. It's easier than you'd thought; despite not being among the best climbers of your gym class, you progress up the metal pole at a comfortable pace. Did that elixir grant you superior climbing skills?

You know, of course, that when you get to the top, the unreachable canopy of her otherworldly panties will lie a little less out-of-grasp. A sense of sickness rises in your stomach - like you were breaking your president's trust, glimpsing something forbidden. But when you gaze at her moving in the distance; the gargantuan frame of her thin limbs sloping out with each stroke of the keyboard; the mass of wrinkles spreading across her blazer and skirt to accommodate their careful motions; you're just prompted to climb faster.

"Tch..." Matsudo's tongue clicks in frustration, amid keypresses filling the dull air. "Nothin' adds up. I type in 'February 6', so why does it come onscreen as 'June 2'? We'll never time travel to Princess Calamity's era at this rate."

The words echo across your spine, making you scoot down. Seems El Presidente's moved right into another experiment. She paces around, the continual "thunk" of her shoes pushing you down further. To think; any one of those were strong and heavy enough to flatten you, along with scores of other ants. If she were really this tall compared to you - in the range of 560 feet - she'd have no trouble crushing whole streets with every step. Eventually, you match the rhythm of her city-crossing steps, using the vibrations to bounce up.

Kotoko idly shifts forward. "Uh, if I'm the only other club member here, will I be a test subject? For your shrinking ray gun, I mean..." Even his brief, thoughtless scoot sends you off-balance, gripping the chair leg for support. It's a long drop down to the floor tiles.

So that's what the device would do... You sniffle. Are the fates conspiring to downsize you, no matter what you do? As if you weren't short enough to begin with...

The president turns his way - the creases in her skirt drifting waves in a vast ocean of navy blue. Between her right thumb and index dangles the invention in question. "Thanks, but I'd hafta reconfigure this baby for that. It's attuned to only work with Sodachi's DNA."

You regain your balance with a hard grasp. Burning fills your cheeks. Did Senpai - did she make the device JUST for you? Your arms feel lighter.

"Huh?" Kotoko's feminine features light up in confusion. "Why him, specifically?"

You brace yourself for it. The words President Matsudo never dared speak before you. Maybe, "Because I think my Kouhai's cute!", or "Because my Kouhai belongs with me forever!", or even "Because I want to tease my Kouhai when he can't fight back!"

She pulls her glasses up, and taps her brain. "Sodachi lives alone. If something goes wrong, and he disappears... Nobody will look for him."

A gasp catches in your throat. Your eyes feel sore. Even your fellow student is speechless. Senpai... That stings.

Finally, you make it to the top of the chair. Two shallow, symmetrical craters greet you. It's an otherwise-imperceptible imprint of Matsudo's glorious ass, carved by many tireless hours of her studies and tests. When you catch your breath, the air has a faint trace of the nerd's familiar musk. Considering the president's legendary neglect of hygiene, and her tendency to eat meals at these desks, it makes sense that she'd leave a smell behind; though it isn't overpowering or unpleasant. Just a little remnant of your Senpai's labors.

The view below is stupefying. Did you really scale all that mass of metal? It's like looking down from the Statue of Liberty! A sense of accomplishment rushes over you, along with vertigo. You pat yourself on the back. If only Matsudo could see you now, hair fluttering dramatically in the wind.

...Wait, wind in the clubroom?

No; it's your Senpai's gigantic legs, passively generating a breeze as they pace around. At your scale, her thighs look sturdier and thicker than your apartment building. The way they flutter ahead, traveling yards in each side, flesh slightly rubbing against itself - it's breathtaking, watching great structures fall and rise again and again. You blush, turning your head away quickly from the lewd monoliths. But still, the omnipresent sounds of her footsteps and breaths incite your imagination. If she were really this big, it's easy to picture her carelessly trampling buildings... Or walking right through them, her slender legs destroying everything against their flesh. And she'd probably make a big show of plowing through your building, flashing a smug smile the entire time...

*SNAP*

The noise jolts you to back to reality.

Matsudo's nasal voice, closer and more booking than ever, rings through your bones: "Ah! Of course! If I change the locale setting variables... Heh, I'll get the machine up'n runnin' in no time!"

With a crack of her knuckles, she takes a seat to type it in.

*Your* seat.

https://imgur.com/a/v8xAkP0

Your mind feels both frozen and fast-running at the same time. Her killer ass hangs above, a guillotine ready to smash you to a pulp with its entrancing wrinkles. The sudden twist of her rear end creates another draft - one so strong, it knocks you to your spine. Your vision seems to white out; but you quickly realize, it's the pale surface of her panty fabrics engulfing your view from above! The monumental cheeks peek out slightly from the undergarments, descending with a whistle. And you're standing right in the imprint they made, falling over yourself as you try to get to your legs.

In the chaos, you notice: Senpai's underpants have traveled fairly high up her hips. She has a wedgie large enough to engulf your whole body; and that camel toe from earlier is downright puffy, barely hiding any details of her mighty vulva's shape. Body heat washes over you as she gets closer, ready to land upon the chair and start working. The air feels thicker by her mere presence. You're hopelessly caught in the shadow of the oncoming pelvis. Your shouts, bidding her not to sit, drown into the web of white folds. As the lights shift around to accommodate her frame, the curves become even more terrifying.

With a "HIIII~!", you dash for safety towards...