Don’t know when she finally let up. Seemed to go on forever, those pert cannonball buttocks jamming into me, lifting for a second and settling back down around me. Sometimes right on me, like I’d get a dim glimpse of her panties lifting up, fringed in the umbrella of navy pleats, and then she’d bring one butt cheek right down on me, plus all of her tonnage. Goddamn, that was too much girl for me. Sometimes I thought I could feel one of her bones in all that flesh, maybe her hip bone, where it joins into the pelvis, or maybe that was my imagination. Maybe her glutes were just that hard and toned: these were a bunch of athletes, after all. She’d weigh me down with one cheek and grind in a small rotation, mashing me into her like that. I don’t know why, just crushing me into that crusty old bus seat. What could she get out of it?
Maybe I’m asking the wrong question, or coming at it from the wrong angle. I assumed it was sexual, because she was such a hot young thing, fitting me right up into her action and covering me in her muff. But then she’d pull something like this, burying me under that featureless round flesh, grinding at me with all of her weight: maybe she was just mean.
Like I said, it took all of my mettle to hold onto my breath, or to watch her rise and descend, spreading out my limbs in time so nothing got twisted and bent the wrong way. Figured she was like to kill me this way, when all of a sudden she stopped. My head’s spinning and I’m gasping for breath, and I see that little girl who stole me. She’s still buried under that frighteningly large rump of the Latina-looking woman, pinned down and helpless about as much as I was. Is that what this team is into, finding helpless people to sit on? Strange goddamn world, I can tell you, wouldn’t surprise me a bit. Shit, maybe it’s a competitive sport now and the world’s just racing past me.
And that girl who tried to flatten me under her butt, she loomed over me like the goddamn Chrysler Building. It’s a bizarre angle, and my eyes are struggling to take it in. I’ve had a woman sitting on me before, but my eyes were bigger and she was less to take in. Couldn’t help but peeking up this shadowy skirt like a circus tent, up her tight shirt with her little boobies sticking out proudly, and her long, smooth thighs rose up by the edge of the seat. Then one glided away, for all its massiveness, and the other followed, and then the evil redhead stood in the aisle. Guess that was to make room for the real tall drink of water, Dee-Dee, who strode in like a giraffe on stilts. She would’a been a head taller than me at my old size, but now she… it was impossible to comprehend. Would’ve taken me a year to climb her, I bet, with basecamps at her knee, hip, and shoulder. Heh, that’s a funny thought.
Anyway, she slipped into the narrow, narrow space between our seat and the walls of green behind her, and I don’t know how but she even got around that big Latina girl, but she did. Latina popped up, Dee-Dee took her place and pinned Rachael down. One of her fists came down not far from me, gripping the little woman’s forearm. Good Lord, to look at that big hand holding her down… Dee-Dee could’ve scooped me up in her fist and hidden me away from the world. I mean, I should know: I was perched on it when she tried to fucking swallow me, but still, it’s just not a sight you get used to. This woman, young enough to be my daughter, with a fist the size of my wife’s car.
Poor Martha, what’s she doing now? Don’t know how she could explain this one to the cops. She goes in to report a kidnapping, they laugh at the details and ask if she wants to file charges for philandering. I know how the cops are: useless, if you’re lucky.
That evil redhead looked down at me, smiling over her cute little mounds, and she talks right to me. These girls, they switch off from acting like I’m an object and treating me like a person. All of ’em, even Rachael, stripping me down like a doll to play with, what the hell. Our society’s breeding a generation of goddamn sociopaths, I’m telling you. Anyway, she looked down at me, calls me a creep, then says, “If you liked my tight little butt, you’re for a real treat.” And that’s how she introduced Ariana, the Latina with the two planets packed into her tights. Ariana had her own shit-talk for me, but I could tell she was terrified of this other girl. She was putting on a brave face, talking tough, but one advantage to my size was I could see all the little details a person’s face goes through. Granted, that face was around 50’ above me, but still. Maybe it was the way her plump thighs rocked back and forth, maybe the way her pudgy little fingers picked at each other. Hundred little things.
Ayup, I was right: Ariana stalled and the mean girl asked her if she had a problem. They went back and forth for a while, the malicious sporty girl on my left and the short, round gal at my feet. Goddamn it, I hated being naked like this, like a bad goddamn dream. Tiny, naked, surrounded by young women who do not bear my best interests in mind. Yeah, that’s a pretty good nightmare, I’d say.
As I heard it, Ariana pulled some bullshit line about the different things she could do to me, and even I could hear her heart wasn’t in it. And when the other one smiles and tells her good job, she didn’t mean a word of it. Ariana was skating on thin ice and even me, a complete outsider and a shrunken little man fifty feet away from the action, I could tell. But you know, in my position, such as it was, I don’t know that I would’ve warned Ariana about it, neither. Wouldn’t have improved my situation, I don’t think, so to hell with all of them.
Anyway, back to it for the working class: Ariana bought herself a little more time in that evil bitch’s good graces, so she turned around and presented her… I don’t have the words for it. I’ve been scraping for all the adjectives I’ve accumulated over a number of years, I don’t need to spell this out for you, but goddamn. Goddamn is all I can say. She turned around and there were the backs of her round thighs, packed with fat and muscle and thinly coated in smoky black leggings that look like they’re about to snap in a dozen places any second. Here, this is a good illustration: when she turned, I couldn’t see the top half of her at all, anymore. Not the sweatshirt, not those thick rolling locks of mahogany hair, nothing. All of it was blocked out by these two jutting, over-inflated spheres of ass cheeks, and if this spicy little vixen wore a thong under those tights, I swear I couldn’t see a trace of it. It was up there deep and lost to the world, or she dared to trot around with her altogether on display but for the leggings stretched thin. I tell you, I don’t understand this world anymore, what these girls find acceptable. And then they wonder why guys act like… But men are supposed to be responsible for their own actions. I’m not saying that women just about rubbing their pussies in guys’ faces justifies what guys will do to them, no way, no how. I mean, it takes two to tango, but it would help women to bear in mind they’re tangoing with psychopaths.
You didn’t come here for social commentary, and honestly, I’ve got more pressing matters on my mind, so let’s just put all that noise up on the shelf.
“You might be the luckiest little man in the whole world,” the evil woman said, and I really wished we could’ve had a conversation just then. I could’ve told her what happened to the other tiny men that got shrunk down with me, what happened to them, and on those merits alone, yeah, I’m the luckiest little man in the world. Until tonight.
In the time it took for Jenice to slip into the aisle and start barking orders, and for Ariana to defend herself and struggle to reestablish herself as a player rather than someone with an ounce of humanity to their name, well, I caught my breath and sat up. Safe to say I was pretty motivated by that gargantuan butt hovering over me like expensive Californian cliffside property waiting to collapse into the ocean. So while they’re having their womanly pissing contest, I got up and took off.
Where’s the safest place for me to go? I’m not pitching myself over the seat, for obvious reasons. The joke ends immediately when one of them decides to step on me, purposely or accidentally. I could try creeping into the seat crack, but then it’s a countdown until one of them fishes me out. I know how they’re built: they’ve all got that curved steel plating, the better to catch spilled milk cartons or a dozen ounces of vomit. I used to ride these rattle-traps, and this one didn’t look like it was upgraded since I was practicing Edwardian cursive. I tell you, we’d be a stronger nation if we have a rat’s ass about the welfare and learning conditions of our students, instead of sending redneck Nazis in to shut a library down because a guy in a dress is reading a story about a caterpillar that somehow means… something about… Dammit, their arguments are so fucking stupid, I can’t keep them all straight.
You’d think I go off on tangents because I can’t keep my thoughts straight, and maybe that’s true because I see things in systems. Can’t see one thing happening without projecting how it affects all the other pieces in play. That, and I’m also desperately trying to avoid what the fuck’s happening to me at this juncture.
I figured the safest place to go was behind Rachael. She was the least malicious, even if her stupidity put her on par with a major demon in terms of my welfare, so I went scrambling over there on all fours. Here’s something I learned about being a tiny little guy that most of you regular folk won’t know: running doesn’t work. You can kinda bounce along like John Carter of Mars, but if you want real speed, you keep something in contact with the ground surface at all times. So I’m scurrying like a cockroach, launching from 0 to 60, and I like to tell myself I almost made it. The truth is probably more embarrassing, but the upshot is Ariana caught me.
She reacted faster than I would’ve guessed, since her verbal sparring with the evil bitch suggested she couldn’t think too quickly on her feet. But she just hopped up, tucked her knees, and those huge fleshy planets came down on me with a vengeance. FUCK. It was the difference between open air and a little light, and being pressed in a book like a flower.
I don’t even remember how she got me, like, where I ended up. Under her crack, under her cheek, didn’t make a difference: She covered me with her whole ass and one square meter was like any other. Even when she started to roll around on me, I couldn’t tell. It was nothing but a huge skin-sack of womanly fat kinda swaying on me, kinda churning. I could sense movement but it was hard to specify, you know? Like the immense mass was piling over here, then it shifted over there, but nothing really changed for me: I was still mashed flat by that girl’s warm ass, with the thinnest scrim of leggings between us.
That went on for so long. I don’t know how long, hard to count time when your skull’s flaring red with compression. She got me in the back too, so my face was mashed into that stale green vinyl upholstery, and my backside’s coated in incalculable tons of fat and gallons of blood, wrapped up in yards and yards of flesh. She shifted, and then the fabric of her leggings scraped over my back, and she parked herself back down on me. If I had to guess, that was to situate me along her butt crack, but again I have to aver it was impossible for me to discern any difference between this region and that. It was all just a big, fat, crushing ass that blocked out my entire world, and nothing else.
She got up, I don’t know why, but my head was full of static and none of my limbs were working right. It was all I could do to force air down into my lungs. Through the buzzing in my ears I could hear the evil girl complimenting the Latina, giving her new orders. As my vision slowly returned, I saw Ariana’s hands planting into the seat on one side, and then my body sloped with the cushions caving and sinking on the other side, where her plump knees dug in. Guessing that left her arching over me like a very large house, a mansion of naive young woman sheltering me from inadequate bus lighting. In a flash I found myself in a soft, warm palm with strong fingers that didn’t care how hard they held me. It lifted me away from the sheltering Ariana, her fingers pinched me by one leg, and my imperfect vision revealed one slim, pale hand pulling Ariana’s tights back in a sharp triangle.
I was swaying in the empty air above the deep chasm formed by Ariana’s swollen butt cheeks. The evil girl told Dee-Dee to get her camera ready, record a video. Honestly, I couldn’t believe Ariana would humiliate herself like this, baring her ass to another woman and letting a third one record it. I don’t know much about this modern world but I do know that once someone gets you on video, you’re just about sunk. All sorts of idiot kids, young men and women, recording themselves doing stupid, shameful things because they think they can commodify attention. But they can’t, and now there’s a permanent record of them doing shitheaded, humiliating activities, and who in the world could’ve seen that coming.
Well, who listens to an old, straight, white guy like me. What do I know.
When everything was in place, the stage set, the camera rolling, the redhead simply spread her fingers and I made the short dive right into Ariana’s ass. Nothing I could do about it, except try to manage it with as much dignity as I could muster. Right away, I’m surrounded by smooth, warm, slightly humid walls of skin. I could only hope that the Latina showered every day and maybe even after a game. Darkness surrounded my head and my arms groped in the narrow fissure of flesh, but I was all too conscious of my legs cycling in the empty air, which meant my stem-and-berries were flopping around on display as well. That must’ve given the girls a charge, seeing a helpless tiny man humiliate himself like that. Good times.
My first priority was turning myself around to get some fresh air. I had some idea of how deep and plunging this cleft was, and I didn’t want to make the trip down if I could help it, not without another lungful of air. But, dammit, the more I fought, the more I could feel her cheeks running up my hips, my thighs, almost to my knees. I was descending in her gently sweaty butt, and there was nothing for me to grab onto and turn myself around.
Good news: Ariana did indeed wear a thong. My right arm brushed against it in the humid darkness. It was stretched thin, and it was soaked in healthy young woman’s sweat, but at least it was a barrier to her asshole, should I make it that far down. Which could happen at any minute, honestly.
They might’ve been yelling at each other. I thought I heard voices, but my head was muffled by cubic meters of Latina ass, so it was hard to tell for sure. At least it wasn’t a big butt bouncing on me, trying to grind me into tomato sauce. Her ass twitched now and then, like she was struggling with something, and my legs went whipping this way and that in response to the least of her gestures, but that was it. That, and the sinking, which was becoming a serious matter. The girls were out there squabbling about some damn shit, probably who’s the prettiest, while Ariana’s butt cheeks were creeping over my skin, covering my calves, like her ass was a living thing and savoring the act of sucking me inside as slowly as possible. Not a greedy monster, but one who lived on the fear of its victims. If that was the case, then I stood to make this fat ass even fatter, because I don’t mind telling you I was terrified. I guess quicksand victims would understand my situation, as my whole body slowly disappeared into the recesses of this cute Latina’s hindquarters. She could easily contain all of me, and then some, but I didn’t want that.
My whole world was losing air, an absence of light, being coated in Ariana’s sweat squeezed to death in her tremendous ass. That’s all it was for a long, long time. I tried to wedge a little space for my head as I descended inside, twisting a forearm to push the rubbery flesh aside, and that was great when I was closer to the surface. I could get a few deep breaths in then. Now I was in too deep, entirely encased in this young woman’s ass, and there was nowhere to draw air from.
Ariana clenched, and I felt it. It was like something large living inside the walls of flesh, coming to life and shouldering against me as an invader. Nothing I could do but take it, feeling her muscles bulge and tense and clench me. Not hard enough to push the air out of my lungs, but in no way a source of comfort and security, let’s say. I was completely gone inside her ass, unable to tell what was being said out there or what they were planning, but the fluids in my head told me that she was changing position. Not much… she was standing. Yes, she went from kneeling on the seat to standing upright. Dunno if it was in that narrow space behind the seat ahead of us or if the evil bitch permitted her access to the aisle.
Then she started swaying. No muscular contractions, like before, just rocking back and forth. I guessed she was walking, swaying me back and forth in the depths of her butt cheeks. Yeah, they ground in opposition, a little, like one butt cheek rubbing against each other, the way they do when you’re following a nice, big ass down the sidewalk. You see how they do, one sags and the other tenses, and they rub against each other in that enticing way that makes you wish you were tucked in there.
Well, voice of experience: you don’t fucking want that. Heed me now.
The swaying went on forever, and the only saving grace of this was that the more ridiculous it got, the more the colossal ass cheeks parted, now and then, to let a little air in. Yes, I could breathe again, and you better believe I took advantage of every opportunity to snatch a breath. Ariana was walking around, and I wondered if the bus had pulled over and everyone was stretching their legs, because she was walking quite a lot, more than the bus should have allowed. Sometimes it felt like she was hopping, the way her huge cheeks thundered around me, shaking me up and down with violent heaving action. Sometimes I might even guess she was dancing, whipping me back and forth… always sandwiched securely between her fat cheeks, but nonetheless whipping me around with real violence. And then she was slamming into something, bumping into something very solid repeatedly, and the tremors of that impact went right through me, as though her sweat created a conducive layer between the liquids composing her huge ass and the liquids in my spindly, shrunken body. It transmitted through me like the shockwave of an earthquake, unabated as it ripped through one immense buttock, through my body, and on into the other buttock.
I guess it would be a form of torture, though I don’t know who’d be qualified enough to prosecute it. I hung upside down, deep within the crack of this girl’s ass, both plump cheeks squeezing me (in her tight-tights) like they’re trying to wring juice out of me, and then she’s pitching and swaying and slamming around until I wanted to send a thin stream of continual vomit running down her crack to get absorbed in her thong. On and on, too. On and on, without relent. Longer than I would’ve thought possible, and it started to not matter if I could grab fresh air at all, because my poor body just couldn’t take rocking around like this. The shockwaves that transmitted through her ass were doing real damage to me, like percussive rounds going off right next to me. The endless rocking and rolling around, deep in her ass, it threw off my cognition and I lost track of which way was up, which was a bad sign. There was nothing for me but a broad wall of the young Latina’s deepest ass-flesh grinding into my face, as far as I could reach in any direction and further than that. I couldn’t take it, it was beyond disorienting. My muscles and organs started to ache, pummeled by the shock, dumped upside-down and tossed hither and thither, all while securely compressed in her fat, round ass.
I marked it down to delusion when I felt the flesh shove and part, somewhere above my legs. Now I was completely at a loss as to what Ariana could be doing out there. Couldn’t think of it, too busy shuddering into a jelly in her innermost crevice.
The flesh shoved out of the way again, and something brushed against me. I couldn’t begin to guess what that was, in the moment, but having brushed me it returned for me, and slim fingers wrapped around my body and yanked me out with vengeance. In a split-second I transitioned from the boiling humidity and compression of Ariana’s rear end to lying fairly cold in a pair of cold palms, with dim light working on my blurred vision. As it cleared, I slowly made out Rachael’s face hovering over me, contorted with crying. She was murmuring something at me, over and over, like how I was safe or she was sorry, but that meant fuck all to me. That and three bucks might get you a medium coffee at any of these over-roasted bullshit coffee chains spreading throughout the nation like an aggressive cancer.
But there I was, panting and cooling down in Rachael’s hands. It wasn’t a woman’s ass, and it wasn’t a woman’s mouth. I was back in the possession of the whiny little piece of fluff who stripped me of all my clothes, and somehow this was measurably an improvement.