Amy's rear plunges your world into darkness
A Shrunken College Student
chapter 8
by
copier
· original author:
hetathere
You lie face down against the wooden chair, the pain from the recent kick radiating through your tiny body. The woman’s cowboy boot had delivered a punishing blow, caving your chest in, breaking ribs, and collapsing your lungs. Each breath creates agony, and calling out for help seems impossible. As you wait for your body to heal, you survey your surroundings with your right eye while keeping motionless.
The chair you’re on matches the rustic, old Western-themed breakfast joint. The scale of the chair compared to your tiny form is daunting and you realize how misfortune has guided your body to land in the bottom of an indent on the chair designed to support the right butt cheek. As you focus your efforts of reforming, a sweet, southern-accented voice draws your attention.
“Alrighty ma’am, this will be your table here. Can I get you started with anything to drink?” The waitress’s voice is warm, inviting, and very close.
“That’s a good question!” A familiar voice responds with bubbly enthusiasm, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s Amy, and you realize your chances of escape are dwindling.
“I’m wanting something sweet,” Amy continues, her voice growing louder as she approaches. The chair jerks slightly as she moves it, and you feel a surge of panic. Desperately, you try to move, but the burning in your lungs makes it nearly impossible.
As Amy begins to settle into the chair, the space around you is overtaken by the darkening shadow of her approaching bulk. Her bulbous cheeks, snugly wrapped in grey leggings, dominate your view as they descend toward you. The leggings stretch to their limit, outlining the full, round shape of each orb of creamy fat with an almost hypnotic clarity. Each movement causes her cheeks to jiggle and the fabric to cling tighter, emphasizing the immensity of her backside. The once-roomy chair now seems dwarfed by the sheer size of her bulbous cheeks. You prepare for the crushing impact, fully aware that her expansive rear will engulf the chair. Knowing that she will unwittingly give your life a new purpose; cushion my ample behind.
The moment Amy’s rear connects with the chair, you are plunged into a world of darkness and crushing weight. Her cheeks spread and envelop the chair, their vast, bulbous form spilling over and consuming every inch of the seat. The initial impact sends a shudder through the chair, which rocks slightly and groans in protest as it bears her weight. The plump nature of her hips and rear creates a series of small wobbles that reverberate up her body as a consequence of the impact. Each wobble necessitating a small groan from the chair as it has to adapt to her new weight distribution. From your perspective, her soft, unrelenting cheek exerted excruciating weight down upon you, causing your bones to slowly and systematically crack, then break, and finally then turn to dust as your body is forced from the third dimension to the second in the span of half a second. As Amy’s weight settles, you begin to feel the heat radiating out from her cheek through her thin leggings, heating up the flattened world beneath her. The warmth intensifies with each passing moment, making the already stifling environment even more unbearable as her colossal rear maintains its oppressive hold.
Despite being nearly overwhelmed by Amy’s massive ass, you manage to isolate a new sensation amidst the ocean of crushing pain; a muffled, unintelligible murmur. The nature of the murmur could be felt more so than heard, as the globular cheek tries to seclude you from the rest of the world. To greedily and ravenously keep you to itself. The murmur dies down, and with surprising clarity Amy’s less muffled voice reaches your body. “That would be great! I’d love a caramel mocha Frappuccino, and I will need a moment to look over the menu; I’m absolutely famished!” Her words filter through the flesh encasing you, sending shivers of soundwaves and vibrations through your trapped body. Every movement she makes sends redirecting the mass of her expansive cheeks to grind you into the chair. Acting as a giant fleshy steamroller with the intent of ironing you onto her leggings.
Annabelle navigated her way through the bustling sea of tables at Sally’s Southern Delight, carefully balancing the frosty caramel mocha Frappuccino she was about to deliver. As she made her way to the back of the restaurant, her mind was preoccupied with a growing concern. The day had taken a frustrating turn with a tiny customer missing somewhere in the establishment. The task of tracking him down had become an increasingly convoluted ordeal, much to Annabelle's dismay. However, a glimmer of hope had emerged when one of her coworkers had shared some intriguing details about the girl she was heading towards. This particular customer was known for being a regular, and she was well-liked among the staff for her easygoing nature and generous tips.
The routine she followed was almost comically predictable: she would show up, order a sweet coffee (Annabelle had recommended the Frappuccino in the first place), and then spend about ten minutes perusing the menu. Following this, she would indulge in a substantial feast—five large pancakes, two blueberry muffins, a cinnamon roll, and a bowl of oatmeal. She would consume it all slowly over the course of an hour, never once looking up from her phone or asking for additional water, before eventually departing. Annabelle initially suspected her coworker might be playing a prank.
As Annabelle rounded the last corner between the baristas and the back of Sally’s Southern Delight, she was met with the sight of Amy’s immense rear, snugly encased in tight grey leggings. The sheer size of Amy’s posterior dwarfed the wooden chair beneath her, each cheek spilling over the edges of the seat and pressing hungrily against the backrest.
Lifting her gaze and with a professional smile, Annabelle set the Frappuccino down on the table in front of Amy. “Here you go, ma’am. Your caramel mocha Frappuccino, just as you like it,” she said warmly.
Amy’s face lit up with excitement as she received the drink. Her hips wiggled back and forth in delight, the movement causing a fresh wave of pressure to be exerted on you. You felt an immense shutter resonate through her rear as she took a sip of the sweet beverage, clearly savoring it. “Mmm, thank you so much!” she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. “This is exactly what I needed!”
Setting the drink aside, Amy began to look over the menu. Despite her apparent deliberation, her movements were casual and familiar. Her hips continued to wiggle, causing even more pressure to bear down on you. The rhythmic jiggling of her massive cheeks was relentless, and every subtle shift added to the already overwhelming pressure.
Annabelle observed from a distance, noting how the chair strained under Amy’s weight. The wooden seat creaked and groaned, the pressure making it clear how the chair was struggling to support Amy’s expansive rear.
After a few moments, Amy made her decision with proud enthusiasm. “Alright, Annabelle, I’m ready to order,” she announced. “I’ll have my usual: five large pancakes, two blueberry muffins, a cinnamon roll, and a bowl of oatmeal!”
Annabelle nodded and headed back toward the kitchen, leaving Amy to settle into her chair. From your perspective, the moment Amy thanked Annabelle and adjusted herself, the pressure became nearly unbearable. Her cheeks jiggled with each movement, the constant shifting adding new layers of crushing force to your already compressed form. The chair creaked and groaned under her weight, each sound a grim reminder of the intense pressure you were experiencing. The warmth from Amy’s body further intensified the already stifling environment, making every moment feel both intimately oppressive and excruciatingly painful.
As the next hour unfolds, the scene beneath Amy’s massive rear becomes a painful testament to the contrast between her contentment and your suffering. From your vantage point, you experience every subtle shift of her enormous cheeks, feeling the excruciating weight that cruelly presses down and tries to remove you from existence.
Amy’s seated posture remains largely unchanged as she eats, completely engrossed on the social media of her phone. Her expansive rear encircling the chair as she enjoys her meal. With every shift and adjustment, her cheeks jiggle and wobble, further grinding you into the chair. With each passing second, you feel your flattened form becoming more and more engrained onto the fabric of her leggings, threatening to become nothing by a mere decorative logo. You feel every bounce and jiggle of her rear as she adjusts herself, each movement sending waves of unbearable pain through your tiny, crushed form.
Above you Amy hums in contentment, occasionally taking sips of her coffee and enjoying her food. Her satisfaction is palpable, her every sound and gesture of pleasure a cruel reminder of the tortured position you are trapped in. Your world is a smothering darkness, with the warmth from her body growing ever more intense as time passes.
After what feels like an eternity, you feel Amy’s massive rear lift from the chair. An immediate sense of relief washes over you as her otherworldly weight no longer actively torments you. However, your relief is short-lived as you struggle against your position stuck to the epicenter of her right buttock knowing that it is only a matter of time until she sits down again.
As she leaves the establishment, you are carried along as an unwilling passenger. From this new vantage point, your view of the world is distorted by a constant, rhythmic jiggle and sway of her colossal rear. Each step she takes causes her cheeks to bounce and undulate, creating dancing waves of motion across her flesh that demonstrate how stuck you are.
What happens next?
The chair you’re on matches the rustic, old Western-themed breakfast joint. The scale of the chair compared to your tiny form is daunting and you realize how misfortune has guided your body to land in the bottom of an indent on the chair designed to support the right butt cheek. As you focus your efforts of reforming, a sweet, southern-accented voice draws your attention.
“Alrighty ma’am, this will be your table here. Can I get you started with anything to drink?” The waitress’s voice is warm, inviting, and very close.
“That’s a good question!” A familiar voice responds with bubbly enthusiasm, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s Amy, and you realize your chances of escape are dwindling.
“I’m wanting something sweet,” Amy continues, her voice growing louder as she approaches. The chair jerks slightly as she moves it, and you feel a surge of panic. Desperately, you try to move, but the burning in your lungs makes it nearly impossible.
As Amy begins to settle into the chair, the space around you is overtaken by the darkening shadow of her approaching bulk. Her bulbous cheeks, snugly wrapped in grey leggings, dominate your view as they descend toward you. The leggings stretch to their limit, outlining the full, round shape of each orb of creamy fat with an almost hypnotic clarity. Each movement causes her cheeks to jiggle and the fabric to cling tighter, emphasizing the immensity of her backside. The once-roomy chair now seems dwarfed by the sheer size of her bulbous cheeks. You prepare for the crushing impact, fully aware that her expansive rear will engulf the chair. Knowing that she will unwittingly give your life a new purpose; cushion my ample behind.
The moment Amy’s rear connects with the chair, you are plunged into a world of darkness and crushing weight. Her cheeks spread and envelop the chair, their vast, bulbous form spilling over and consuming every inch of the seat. The initial impact sends a shudder through the chair, which rocks slightly and groans in protest as it bears her weight. The plump nature of her hips and rear creates a series of small wobbles that reverberate up her body as a consequence of the impact. Each wobble necessitating a small groan from the chair as it has to adapt to her new weight distribution. From your perspective, her soft, unrelenting cheek exerted excruciating weight down upon you, causing your bones to slowly and systematically crack, then break, and finally then turn to dust as your body is forced from the third dimension to the second in the span of half a second. As Amy’s weight settles, you begin to feel the heat radiating out from her cheek through her thin leggings, heating up the flattened world beneath her. The warmth intensifies with each passing moment, making the already stifling environment even more unbearable as her colossal rear maintains its oppressive hold.
Despite being nearly overwhelmed by Amy’s massive ass, you manage to isolate a new sensation amidst the ocean of crushing pain; a muffled, unintelligible murmur. The nature of the murmur could be felt more so than heard, as the globular cheek tries to seclude you from the rest of the world. To greedily and ravenously keep you to itself. The murmur dies down, and with surprising clarity Amy’s less muffled voice reaches your body. “That would be great! I’d love a caramel mocha Frappuccino, and I will need a moment to look over the menu; I’m absolutely famished!” Her words filter through the flesh encasing you, sending shivers of soundwaves and vibrations through your trapped body. Every movement she makes sends redirecting the mass of her expansive cheeks to grind you into the chair. Acting as a giant fleshy steamroller with the intent of ironing you onto her leggings.
Annabelle navigated her way through the bustling sea of tables at Sally’s Southern Delight, carefully balancing the frosty caramel mocha Frappuccino she was about to deliver. As she made her way to the back of the restaurant, her mind was preoccupied with a growing concern. The day had taken a frustrating turn with a tiny customer missing somewhere in the establishment. The task of tracking him down had become an increasingly convoluted ordeal, much to Annabelle's dismay. However, a glimmer of hope had emerged when one of her coworkers had shared some intriguing details about the girl she was heading towards. This particular customer was known for being a regular, and she was well-liked among the staff for her easygoing nature and generous tips.
The routine she followed was almost comically predictable: she would show up, order a sweet coffee (Annabelle had recommended the Frappuccino in the first place), and then spend about ten minutes perusing the menu. Following this, she would indulge in a substantial feast—five large pancakes, two blueberry muffins, a cinnamon roll, and a bowl of oatmeal. She would consume it all slowly over the course of an hour, never once looking up from her phone or asking for additional water, before eventually departing. Annabelle initially suspected her coworker might be playing a prank.
As Annabelle rounded the last corner between the baristas and the back of Sally’s Southern Delight, she was met with the sight of Amy’s immense rear, snugly encased in tight grey leggings. The sheer size of Amy’s posterior dwarfed the wooden chair beneath her, each cheek spilling over the edges of the seat and pressing hungrily against the backrest.
Lifting her gaze and with a professional smile, Annabelle set the Frappuccino down on the table in front of Amy. “Here you go, ma’am. Your caramel mocha Frappuccino, just as you like it,” she said warmly.
Amy’s face lit up with excitement as she received the drink. Her hips wiggled back and forth in delight, the movement causing a fresh wave of pressure to be exerted on you. You felt an immense shutter resonate through her rear as she took a sip of the sweet beverage, clearly savoring it. “Mmm, thank you so much!” she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. “This is exactly what I needed!”
Setting the drink aside, Amy began to look over the menu. Despite her apparent deliberation, her movements were casual and familiar. Her hips continued to wiggle, causing even more pressure to bear down on you. The rhythmic jiggling of her massive cheeks was relentless, and every subtle shift added to the already overwhelming pressure.
Annabelle observed from a distance, noting how the chair strained under Amy’s weight. The wooden seat creaked and groaned, the pressure making it clear how the chair was struggling to support Amy’s expansive rear.
After a few moments, Amy made her decision with proud enthusiasm. “Alright, Annabelle, I’m ready to order,” she announced. “I’ll have my usual: five large pancakes, two blueberry muffins, a cinnamon roll, and a bowl of oatmeal!”
Annabelle nodded and headed back toward the kitchen, leaving Amy to settle into her chair. From your perspective, the moment Amy thanked Annabelle and adjusted herself, the pressure became nearly unbearable. Her cheeks jiggled with each movement, the constant shifting adding new layers of crushing force to your already compressed form. The chair creaked and groaned under her weight, each sound a grim reminder of the intense pressure you were experiencing. The warmth from Amy’s body further intensified the already stifling environment, making every moment feel both intimately oppressive and excruciatingly painful.
As the next hour unfolds, the scene beneath Amy’s massive rear becomes a painful testament to the contrast between her contentment and your suffering. From your vantage point, you experience every subtle shift of her enormous cheeks, feeling the excruciating weight that cruelly presses down and tries to remove you from existence.
Amy’s seated posture remains largely unchanged as she eats, completely engrossed on the social media of her phone. Her expansive rear encircling the chair as she enjoys her meal. With every shift and adjustment, her cheeks jiggle and wobble, further grinding you into the chair. With each passing second, you feel your flattened form becoming more and more engrained onto the fabric of her leggings, threatening to become nothing by a mere decorative logo. You feel every bounce and jiggle of her rear as she adjusts herself, each movement sending waves of unbearable pain through your tiny, crushed form.
Above you Amy hums in contentment, occasionally taking sips of her coffee and enjoying her food. Her satisfaction is palpable, her every sound and gesture of pleasure a cruel reminder of the tortured position you are trapped in. Your world is a smothering darkness, with the warmth from her body growing ever more intense as time passes.
After what feels like an eternity, you feel Amy’s massive rear lift from the chair. An immediate sense of relief washes over you as her otherworldly weight no longer actively torments you. However, your relief is short-lived as you struggle against your position stuck to the epicenter of her right buttock knowing that it is only a matter of time until she sits down again.
As she leaves the establishment, you are carried along as an unwilling passenger. From this new vantage point, your view of the world is distorted by a constant, rhythmic jiggle and sway of her colossal rear. Each step she takes causes her cheeks to bounce and undulate, creating dancing waves of motion across her flesh that demonstrate how stuck you are.
What happens next?
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·
March 28, 2025
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