Package Sent
A Shrunken Roommate (Re-upload)
chapter 9
by
copier
· original author:
lilmonizz4
As Quinn's supple, albeit ludicrously heavy, cheeks slid back and forth over your helpless form, you could already feel the days of work on reforming back into your normal self washing away by the minute. Each peddle Quinn pushed into the exercise bike below you caused one of her jiggly ass cheeks to smear into you, while the other raised slightly, preparing to dish out it's turn of torture.
While the rhythmic pounding was numbing your mind as your entire perception was dominated by Quinn booty, suddenly the relentless slams slowed to a halt. With the whir of the bike brought to a halt, you could actually make out the shrill cries of your sister from beneath the suffocating embrace of Quinn's ass.
Quinn quickly did as she was told, hopping off the bike when Tracy exclaimed you were back on it. When asked if she knew you were there, Quinn merely shrugged lazily, noting that she had noticed the seat was back to it's comfy self.
Grimacing as she laid eyes upon the tanned blob, now thoroughly coated in a fresh lathering of warm sweat, Tracy went right back to peeling at your edges. She didn't get far though, as both twins barged into the exercise room, with Morgan ready to voice her frustration.
"Oh, come on Tracy! If it were really Hunter he would've reformed by now! Why don't you drop this whole thing, I know you like using the bike too, we all do!" Morgan was right back on her goal of keeping you where you belonged, as far as she knew you really were just a thoughtful Christmas present she was determined to get all the use she could out of in your memory.
Tracy simply continued to pry at you, much to your relief, firing back at the brown-haired twin, "You didn't even give him enough time! Now he's going to have to start all over! You have no one to blame but yourself!" Tracy was really fired up this time, reaching new heights of ferocity with the group's selfish and ignorant antics. "In fact..." Tracy began as you finally ripped free, experiencing the same painful tearing as you came clean off the leather below, "Since you three clearly can't be trusted, I'll just send him someplace he can reform in peace!"
Marching into the kitchen, it didn't take Tracy more than a couple seconds to find a spare mailer and some scotch tape, dropping you inside and quickly writing a simple note: 'This is Hunter. Let him reform!!'
You watched as your sister's face disappeared as she sealed the manila envelope shut, still hearing the cries of despondence from Morgan as Tracy exited the house.
Tracy informed you that she'd make sure to come check on you in the coming weeks once work died down, but that she was sure your caring mother would ensure you were allowed the time to get back to normal. You couldn't voice any objections, but you honestly didn't have any as you simply enjoyed some peace away from the asses of your roommates. You'd gotten to know each of your roommates rears by weight and feel alone, and the stale collection of sweat that had seeped into you would be a long-term remnant of their time with you these past few weeks.
As Tracy finished putting an address of your mailer, your body crumpled into a heap as it was thrown into a mailbox with a large collection of similar sized letters, although you had strong doubts any of the others contained inch-tall people like yourself.
The trip home was quite a long one, and the days passed in utter boredom as you couldn't even work on reforming from the confines of this envelope. The only company you had was the god-send of a note Tracy had left with you, which unfortunately continued to remind you of it's presence as it uncomfortably stabbed into you at times.
Finally though, you felt yourself come to halt, and even from within the paper confines of this bubble-wrap infused mailer could you tell you must be home. The warm sun was baking onto the paper, and you could hear the distant singing of birds. With so much time on your hands, and some experience knowing where the mail was left at your house, you knew you must be home on your very own doormat.
A few hours passed by, when suddenly you heard the distinct sound of rubber meeting pavement as some shoes approached you. You heard them come to a stop right next to you, the sheer presence of this woman blocking out the sun and darkening the interior of your package. A sturdy hand gripped at your side, and you heard the door unlocking as you were brought into your old home.
A familiar, feminine voice hummed out as you heard the tape being peeled away above you, and before long you strained to look up at none-other than...
While the rhythmic pounding was numbing your mind as your entire perception was dominated by Quinn booty, suddenly the relentless slams slowed to a halt. With the whir of the bike brought to a halt, you could actually make out the shrill cries of your sister from beneath the suffocating embrace of Quinn's ass.
Quinn quickly did as she was told, hopping off the bike when Tracy exclaimed you were back on it. When asked if she knew you were there, Quinn merely shrugged lazily, noting that she had noticed the seat was back to it's comfy self.
Grimacing as she laid eyes upon the tanned blob, now thoroughly coated in a fresh lathering of warm sweat, Tracy went right back to peeling at your edges. She didn't get far though, as both twins barged into the exercise room, with Morgan ready to voice her frustration.
"Oh, come on Tracy! If it were really Hunter he would've reformed by now! Why don't you drop this whole thing, I know you like using the bike too, we all do!" Morgan was right back on her goal of keeping you where you belonged, as far as she knew you really were just a thoughtful Christmas present she was determined to get all the use she could out of in your memory.
Tracy simply continued to pry at you, much to your relief, firing back at the brown-haired twin, "You didn't even give him enough time! Now he's going to have to start all over! You have no one to blame but yourself!" Tracy was really fired up this time, reaching new heights of ferocity with the group's selfish and ignorant antics. "In fact..." Tracy began as you finally ripped free, experiencing the same painful tearing as you came clean off the leather below, "Since you three clearly can't be trusted, I'll just send him someplace he can reform in peace!"
Marching into the kitchen, it didn't take Tracy more than a couple seconds to find a spare mailer and some scotch tape, dropping you inside and quickly writing a simple note: 'This is Hunter. Let him reform!!'
You watched as your sister's face disappeared as she sealed the manila envelope shut, still hearing the cries of despondence from Morgan as Tracy exited the house.
Tracy informed you that she'd make sure to come check on you in the coming weeks once work died down, but that she was sure your caring mother would ensure you were allowed the time to get back to normal. You couldn't voice any objections, but you honestly didn't have any as you simply enjoyed some peace away from the asses of your roommates. You'd gotten to know each of your roommates rears by weight and feel alone, and the stale collection of sweat that had seeped into you would be a long-term remnant of their time with you these past few weeks.
As Tracy finished putting an address of your mailer, your body crumpled into a heap as it was thrown into a mailbox with a large collection of similar sized letters, although you had strong doubts any of the others contained inch-tall people like yourself.
The trip home was quite a long one, and the days passed in utter boredom as you couldn't even work on reforming from the confines of this envelope. The only company you had was the god-send of a note Tracy had left with you, which unfortunately continued to remind you of it's presence as it uncomfortably stabbed into you at times.
Finally though, you felt yourself come to halt, and even from within the paper confines of this bubble-wrap infused mailer could you tell you must be home. The warm sun was baking onto the paper, and you could hear the distant singing of birds. With so much time on your hands, and some experience knowing where the mail was left at your house, you knew you must be home on your very own doormat.
A few hours passed by, when suddenly you heard the distinct sound of rubber meeting pavement as some shoes approached you. You heard them come to a stop right next to you, the sheer presence of this woman blocking out the sun and darkening the interior of your package. A sturdy hand gripped at your side, and you heard the door unlocking as you were brought into your old home.
A familiar, feminine voice hummed out as you heard the tape being peeled away above you, and before long you strained to look up at none-other than...
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April 23, 2025
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