One by one, Violet watched as stunned teens were plucked from the ground and stuffed into a knapsack on The Minimiser’s hip. Some would make a noise or complain when they were grabbed, but suddenly it was Violet’s turn and she understood.

Enormous fingers seized her by the collar of her shirt, tightening around her neck as she dangled helplessly. Rushing upwards at such a speed that her ears were whistling and her blood was abandoning her head, she caught a glimpse of her captor up close as the knapsack was opened.

”Huh. Well aren’t you a cutie?” She smirked at the tiny teen. “Sorta chic, sorta goth… maybe I’ll just keep you…”

And finally, Violet had something to protest about. Because the knapsack was closed again, but instead she was introduced to The Minimiser’s chest in its entirety as she pulled her supersuit forward.

Flailing and kicking was all well and good, but it ultimately made no difference as Violet was dropped, and her body tumbled down the silken fabric, landing with a bump against what felt like bra underwire.

It was… roomier in here than she’d expected. Violet wasn’t exactly gifted in the boob department, but this girl was barely gracing A cups. Modest and, if she were honest, perky, there was a slight relief that she wasn’t squashed up against some heaving bosom.

Of course, that relief only lasted a few seconds before an enormous pressure was introduced from outside, and her face was pushed into the nipple, which of course stiffened on contact;

”Play nice in there, okay?” The Minimiser giggled, pushing against Violet a few more times as soft breast cushioned her impact. As if it wasn’t clammy and insufferable in here already.

Why was she getting the ‘special’ treatment though? Surely there were other girls The Minimiser could’ve taken to? There was a whole troupe of goth girls in the grade up from her, ones that actually followed the cult mentality instead of just being pale and skinny. 

In any case, Violet wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than being stuffed into a bag with all the other kids. She was told to ‘play nice’, with only the one obvious target. And if she were completely honest with herself, fondling her captor didn’t sound that riveting. But what else could she do?