Fading Hope Beneath the Biking Booty
A Shrunken Roommate (Re-upload)
chapter 8
by
copier
· original author:
azazel8
At first it seemed as if the argument of the two would have no end, and you found yourself silently cheering on Tracy to persevere. To listen to her instincts and save you from this hell. And indeed, at first it seemed that your younger sister was going to come out on top, her repeated insistence that Morgan was being horrible and just wanted to torture you for her own benefit clearly wearing the brunette down as small tears began to form at the corners of her eyes with each verbal blow. Had she not been so frantic at the thought that she herself may have been unknowingly using you for over a month now, perhaps Tracy would have realised that driving her opponent to tears was not a wise strategy when said opponent’s sister and best friend were watching the whole thing unfold.
By contrast, even you could tell that Morgan was not uncaring to your potential plight. You were her friend, and she’d wanted to find you as badly as anyone. She simply didn’t believe, or perhaps didn’t want to believe, that you were the cover of her bike seat, reasoning that while a gift from you it had been installed by Avery, and her sister would have noticed any such discrepancy. Regardless of what Tracy might claim, she insisted that she would consent to the seat cover being tested, even if it would mean destroying it utterly, just as long as they did so after the race. Even in the worst-case scenario that the seat cover was indeed you, it would only be another month, which was a drop in the bucket compared to some things you had endured in the past. She did not go so far as to mention that Tracy herself had been responsible for much of your previous torment, but the implication was there.
You hated the fact that a part of you could see Morgan’s point. Even if you hated her in that moment for not dropping everything at the mere possibility of your being found, you knew well enough that it was an unreasonable expectation to have when she had already spent so much time preparing for this race. Still, you had hoped that Tracy would succeed, and had held onto that hope right up until the moment your roommate began to cry, knowing instantly that it was all over. It would have been one thing if they were crocodile tears but given the way she wiped furiously at them it was clear that Morgan herself did not want to be crying right now, and that was all it took for Avery to jump in, the usually chipper girl angrily interceding between her twin and the woman who had made her cry. Quinn quickly joined as well, telling Tracy that she’d taken things too far and engaging in a brief stare-down before your sister shrieked in frustration and stormed off, muttering about ‘stupid ingrates’.
The others soon left the home gym as well, and you were left alone for some time, not privy to the discussions that would follow. The tears, the apologies, and eventually the agreement. Continuing to pay her share of rent, Tracy could observe and otherwise test the cover for any signs of life provided she did not remove it from the exercise bike or expose it to any chemicals that might damage it or the seat. Meanwhile Morgan and the other girls could continue to use the exercise bike according to their own schedules until the day of the race. After the race, Tracy was then permitted to remove the cover and subject it to more thorough examination and reformation attempts to uncover its identity. No-one was one hundred percent happy with the arrangement, least of all yourself when you later overheard some portion of the terms, but it was enough at least to maintain the peace for now.
For yourself, nothing really changed. Although Tracy herself stopped riding you in fear that you were her missing brother, the usage by Avery and Quinn paused only momentarily, before the two decided there was no point worrying about something that might not even be true and returned to their usual schedules. Even previous complaints about your growing stickiness were quickly forgotten. Morgan on the other hand only increased the intensity and length of her biking sessions, reasoning that if this seat was going to be ruined one day by your sister’s experiments, she should get as much use out of it now as she could. And besides, she really wanted to win that race, even if she had to put in hours of effort a day, sweating, grinding and bouncing her booty against her favourite little perch. It just felt so right. So comfortable. Like this bike seat had been made just for her. Just for her rear.
Had you not been so thoroughly bombarded by your roommates’ butts over the last three months, Tracy may yet have been your salvation, as true to her word she visited you every day and poked and prodded at your exterior, searching for any signs of life. Usually, even in a terribly battered state, you would have at least been able to twitch by the smallest amount. Not enough to be felt by most as anything other than a minor irritation, but enough that your diligent sister, who had developed a strong ability to recognise you in any state over long years of childish torment, could usually locate you no matter what state you were in. Yet, this time it was to no avail, as you were totally frozen in place, able to be moved only by the motions of another and not of your own volition. So when Tracy poked you all she received in response was an upwelling of the sweat that had soaked deep into your body, and you could see it in her eyes that even she was becoming increasingly convinced that you were just an inanimate object. Just another dead end in the ongoing search for her lost brother.
Perhaps your lowest day to date came in late-April when, just one week out from the fateful race, you watched your sister once more enter the home gym that had become your prison, only this time her outfit was one that filled you with dread. A tank top and compression shorts could mean only one thing and you wanted to scream as she began to mount you for the first time in weeks. Though she said nothing to you as her rear fell upon your tortured form, in truth Tracy was thinking of this as one last test before the race, reasoning that the sustained and invigorating contact might elicit some small response, and that if she pushed down and focused hard enough she might yet find a sign of life. The tiniest vibration would be enough. If you could just shift yourself the smallest amount you would surely be freed. But it was a forlorn wish, and you remained stubbornly immobile as your loving sibling’s rear rubbed itself all over you, smearing her heat and sweat into your very core.
Unknown to either of you, Morgan had witnessed Tracy’s use of you that fateful day, lingering in the doorway for a moment before slinking back to her own room. Once there, she had breathed a sigh of relief, tension and guilt that had been building up within her for so long released as she reasoned that your sister would only have used the bike like that if she had become convinced that you were not trapped within. You were still out there somewhere, and Morgan hoped dearly that you would be saved, but she took some solace in the fact that at least she had not been tormenting you all this time. And, while she knew it was selfish of her, solace in the fact that she could keep her special seat.
The day before the race was a rare period of relative peace for you. Not wanting to wear herself out the day before the main event Morgan had chosen for once not to use you, making it the first day since Christmas Day that you hadn’t been under her butt. Sadly it wasn’t a day without getting sat on at all, as both Avery and Quinn used you briefly, but compared to the hours you had spent being demolished under your fit roommate’s rear day-in and day-out, it was practically paradise. As you drifted fitfully to sleep that night you dreamed that tomorrow would be even better, with the others going with Morgan to watch her race while Tracy would free you from this hell and finally give you the days, maybe weeks, that you needed to actually reform. To painfully regain your lost humanity.
Needless to say, you did not expect to be awoken to find your form and the attached bike seat being wholly detached from the exercise bike itself, the bolt that had held the contraption in place lying beside you as a smiling Morgan pried you free. No words were said, but as the happy brunette put you aside and began affixing another similar seat in your place you knew deep down that this was not the salvation you had hoped for. Indeed when you were carried out of the gym, you were given only brief flashes of what had once been your home before finding yourself in the garage and face-to-face with Morgan’s road bike, itself conspicuously missing its seat. If you could have you would have screamed for recognition and mercy, but there was nothing you could do as you were fixed in place and once more faced with the looming booty of your friend as it descended to consume you.
For her part, Morgan thought nothing of it as she fixed her favourite seat to her road bike, unable to even contemplate the idea of doing the race with any other seat, especially now that she was sure that it wasn’t her missing roommate in disguise. Pushing down hard she twisted her rear back and forth to make the sure seat was properly placed, then happily pedalling her bike out to the front where Avery was already waiting to help hook it up to the back of the car. Quinn joined the two soon after, while Tracy emerged briefly to wish the brunette luck but advised she would be staying behind as she had some things to do, waving the other three off as they drove away, unknowingly waving you off as well as you despairingly watched her form disappear into the distance. You could only hope that this race would truly be your final use under a bouncing booty, while fearing it would not.
By contrast, even you could tell that Morgan was not uncaring to your potential plight. You were her friend, and she’d wanted to find you as badly as anyone. She simply didn’t believe, or perhaps didn’t want to believe, that you were the cover of her bike seat, reasoning that while a gift from you it had been installed by Avery, and her sister would have noticed any such discrepancy. Regardless of what Tracy might claim, she insisted that she would consent to the seat cover being tested, even if it would mean destroying it utterly, just as long as they did so after the race. Even in the worst-case scenario that the seat cover was indeed you, it would only be another month, which was a drop in the bucket compared to some things you had endured in the past. She did not go so far as to mention that Tracy herself had been responsible for much of your previous torment, but the implication was there.
You hated the fact that a part of you could see Morgan’s point. Even if you hated her in that moment for not dropping everything at the mere possibility of your being found, you knew well enough that it was an unreasonable expectation to have when she had already spent so much time preparing for this race. Still, you had hoped that Tracy would succeed, and had held onto that hope right up until the moment your roommate began to cry, knowing instantly that it was all over. It would have been one thing if they were crocodile tears but given the way she wiped furiously at them it was clear that Morgan herself did not want to be crying right now, and that was all it took for Avery to jump in, the usually chipper girl angrily interceding between her twin and the woman who had made her cry. Quinn quickly joined as well, telling Tracy that she’d taken things too far and engaging in a brief stare-down before your sister shrieked in frustration and stormed off, muttering about ‘stupid ingrates’.
The others soon left the home gym as well, and you were left alone for some time, not privy to the discussions that would follow. The tears, the apologies, and eventually the agreement. Continuing to pay her share of rent, Tracy could observe and otherwise test the cover for any signs of life provided she did not remove it from the exercise bike or expose it to any chemicals that might damage it or the seat. Meanwhile Morgan and the other girls could continue to use the exercise bike according to their own schedules until the day of the race. After the race, Tracy was then permitted to remove the cover and subject it to more thorough examination and reformation attempts to uncover its identity. No-one was one hundred percent happy with the arrangement, least of all yourself when you later overheard some portion of the terms, but it was enough at least to maintain the peace for now.
For yourself, nothing really changed. Although Tracy herself stopped riding you in fear that you were her missing brother, the usage by Avery and Quinn paused only momentarily, before the two decided there was no point worrying about something that might not even be true and returned to their usual schedules. Even previous complaints about your growing stickiness were quickly forgotten. Morgan on the other hand only increased the intensity and length of her biking sessions, reasoning that if this seat was going to be ruined one day by your sister’s experiments, she should get as much use out of it now as she could. And besides, she really wanted to win that race, even if she had to put in hours of effort a day, sweating, grinding and bouncing her booty against her favourite little perch. It just felt so right. So comfortable. Like this bike seat had been made just for her. Just for her rear.
Had you not been so thoroughly bombarded by your roommates’ butts over the last three months, Tracy may yet have been your salvation, as true to her word she visited you every day and poked and prodded at your exterior, searching for any signs of life. Usually, even in a terribly battered state, you would have at least been able to twitch by the smallest amount. Not enough to be felt by most as anything other than a minor irritation, but enough that your diligent sister, who had developed a strong ability to recognise you in any state over long years of childish torment, could usually locate you no matter what state you were in. Yet, this time it was to no avail, as you were totally frozen in place, able to be moved only by the motions of another and not of your own volition. So when Tracy poked you all she received in response was an upwelling of the sweat that had soaked deep into your body, and you could see it in her eyes that even she was becoming increasingly convinced that you were just an inanimate object. Just another dead end in the ongoing search for her lost brother.
Perhaps your lowest day to date came in late-April when, just one week out from the fateful race, you watched your sister once more enter the home gym that had become your prison, only this time her outfit was one that filled you with dread. A tank top and compression shorts could mean only one thing and you wanted to scream as she began to mount you for the first time in weeks. Though she said nothing to you as her rear fell upon your tortured form, in truth Tracy was thinking of this as one last test before the race, reasoning that the sustained and invigorating contact might elicit some small response, and that if she pushed down and focused hard enough she might yet find a sign of life. The tiniest vibration would be enough. If you could just shift yourself the smallest amount you would surely be freed. But it was a forlorn wish, and you remained stubbornly immobile as your loving sibling’s rear rubbed itself all over you, smearing her heat and sweat into your very core.
Unknown to either of you, Morgan had witnessed Tracy’s use of you that fateful day, lingering in the doorway for a moment before slinking back to her own room. Once there, she had breathed a sigh of relief, tension and guilt that had been building up within her for so long released as she reasoned that your sister would only have used the bike like that if she had become convinced that you were not trapped within. You were still out there somewhere, and Morgan hoped dearly that you would be saved, but she took some solace in the fact that at least she had not been tormenting you all this time. And, while she knew it was selfish of her, solace in the fact that she could keep her special seat.
The day before the race was a rare period of relative peace for you. Not wanting to wear herself out the day before the main event Morgan had chosen for once not to use you, making it the first day since Christmas Day that you hadn’t been under her butt. Sadly it wasn’t a day without getting sat on at all, as both Avery and Quinn used you briefly, but compared to the hours you had spent being demolished under your fit roommate’s rear day-in and day-out, it was practically paradise. As you drifted fitfully to sleep that night you dreamed that tomorrow would be even better, with the others going with Morgan to watch her race while Tracy would free you from this hell and finally give you the days, maybe weeks, that you needed to actually reform. To painfully regain your lost humanity.
Needless to say, you did not expect to be awoken to find your form and the attached bike seat being wholly detached from the exercise bike itself, the bolt that had held the contraption in place lying beside you as a smiling Morgan pried you free. No words were said, but as the happy brunette put you aside and began affixing another similar seat in your place you knew deep down that this was not the salvation you had hoped for. Indeed when you were carried out of the gym, you were given only brief flashes of what had once been your home before finding yourself in the garage and face-to-face with Morgan’s road bike, itself conspicuously missing its seat. If you could have you would have screamed for recognition and mercy, but there was nothing you could do as you were fixed in place and once more faced with the looming booty of your friend as it descended to consume you.
For her part, Morgan thought nothing of it as she fixed her favourite seat to her road bike, unable to even contemplate the idea of doing the race with any other seat, especially now that she was sure that it wasn’t her missing roommate in disguise. Pushing down hard she twisted her rear back and forth to make the sure seat was properly placed, then happily pedalling her bike out to the front where Avery was already waiting to help hook it up to the back of the car. Quinn joined the two soon after, while Tracy emerged briefly to wish the brunette luck but advised she would be staying behind as she had some things to do, waving the other three off as they drove away, unknowingly waving you off as well as you despairingly watched her form disappear into the distance. You could only hope that this race would truly be your final use under a bouncing booty, while fearing it would not.
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April 23, 2025
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