Who do you think is the joke now?" **

LELE's voice came from above, deep and oppressive, as if a thunderclap rolled across the sky. I - a foolish student who had once ridiculed her as a "muscular girl" because she was shrunk to the size of my palm - was now lying on the cold, textured floor of her gym.
Shadows enveloped me.
That was not the "overly muscular" body I had once ridiculed. Instead, it was a rising mound of flesh, composed of h*ney-c*lored skin and firm curves. Her fitness shorts were taut from squats, outlining a full hip curve like a mountain range, with a slightly damp sheen and heat from the exercise, dominating the entire sky.
What does she want to do? No... I know what she wants to do. I struggled to get away, but fear like cement filled my entire body.
"During the class, what did I say?" Her voice carried a cruel sense of amusement. "Those who disrespect the coach will have to undergo the corresponding 'weight' training." **”

The sky collapsed.
Those two round, powerful buttock muscles slowly but irresistibly pressed down. The air was rapidly compressed, emitting a whining sound. I smelled - a healthy scent of high-quality c*tton mixed with a faint hint of sweat, combined with the scent of her usual shower gel, which had a chilly, woody fragrance. This smell was no longer just an ordinary body odor; it was the smell of **power**, the totem that the conqueror could sense when crushing the insignificant beings, the only thing that the ants could perceive as belonging to the victor.
The pressure preceded the physical presence. It wasn't wind pressure; it was a pure, quality-induced sensation. My world rapidly darkened, and the last glimmer of light was swallowed by that perfect curve. All that remained in my vision were the increasingly close, fabric-covered skin textures, with each ripple of the muscle fibers being as clear as a canyon.
Then, contact.
There was no sudden destruction, but rather a slow, grinding compression. A huge, soft mass enveloped my entire body, followed by the hard, steel-like muscle strength beneath. My bones emitted a groan of excessive strain, and all the air in my lungs was squeezed out c*mpletely. My vision turned pitch bl*ck.
Among the five senses, only the sense of smell has been magnified to the extreme.
In the nasal cavity, in the lungs, even in every inch of the compressed skin, her scent was all-encompassing. The slightly salty scent left by the evaporating sweat, the warm and comforting aura of the skin, like velvet sun-dried, and that unmistakable, uniquely LELLE-like dominant hormone. This scent became the entirety of my existence, the most direct proof that she controlled me. I could only breathe her. I couldn't feel anything else, but could only feel this overwhelming, all-consuming buttocks.
In this absolute darkness and stench prison, within the last remnant of consciousness, only her initial, smiling whisper remained. Now, it has become the sole rule of my world:
"Listen carefully, this is the price of mocking the giant." **

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