Status symbol Shrunk in an airport chapter 20 by Louka31

Tabitha gets into the backseat of her luxurious Mercedes Benz and authoritatively gives an order to her chauffeur. As the car drives away you lay helplessly on top of her massive breasts. The only view of have is of Tabitha's neck and chin. Tabitha looks down at you and a big smile forms across her face. She starts stroking you with her giant index finger and coos at you in the same language you can't understand. By now, you assume she's speaking Arabic given her looks and what city you're in.

"She seems to treat me nicer than her other servants" you think to yourself.

After a 30 minute car ride, you pull up to Tabitha's destination. The chauffeur opens the door and Tabitha gets out. You gently bounce against her breasts as Tabitha walks towards the entrance of a large building. As she enters, you struggle to lift your head up to see where you are. You look and see a fancy ballroom with candle lit tables and soft piano music playing. You also see many other women in attendance to whatever all of this is. You quickly assume it's a banquet of some sort, given all the guests in fancy dress and the wonderful smell of something being cooked.

You strain to hold your head up to try and guess what the banquet is for. You see a group of women walking towards you, they all sound like they're from a Scandinavian country judging by the language you hear as they talk to each other. To your horror, you realize they are also wearing tiny men tied to their dresses, just like you are. You frantically look around as much as you can in your position, and realize over half of the women you see are wearing tiny men just like Tabitha.

"What the hell is all this?!" you shout outload.

Tabitha, noticing your discomfort gently pushes your head back down on her breasts. She says something to you in Arabic in a kind tone. You can't for the life of you figure out what's going on. So many emotions surge though your body ranging from confusion to utter humiliation. Suddenly you hear someone call Tabitha's name, you look up and see it's a group of women who are also middle eastern sitting at a nearby table. Tabitha happily calls back and heads over to their table and sits down. Curious, you lift your head up and see what's going on. Tabitha is sitting at a round able with a group of women around her age and also very nicely dressed. To your relief, you don't see any tiny men tied to their dresses. You lay back, listening to Tabitha talk to her friends in Arabic.

Does Tabitha or her friends pay any attention to you?