This choice: Call upon the Shard's Hidden Powers(!?) • Go Back...Chapter #7Escaping From Ashley's Pulverizing Rear by: TFWNoGiantGF   [Suggested music - Game & Wario - Ashley's Revolution: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9n0cv5D0... ]
"That's it! Wahah!" In the pauses, he was still able to grasp the Crescent Moon Shard. His arm nearly broke off as he reached out; but gritting his perfect teeth together, he bore the pain. feeling the great surface dig into his palm, slightly piercing, he called out:
"Treasure, use your magic and get me outta here!"
Nothing - except the brunt of Ashley's silky, moist pantyhose flowing across his face. The heat stung his eyeballs, and the twisting had begun to make his neck stiffen - along with the general pain in each of his bones. When she lifted her backside, the cloth figure stuck a little to the fabric; it lifted the shrunken man into the air, and sent him crashing to the floor, winded.
She rested her head on her shoulder. "I wonder if I'll finish my book before you come out."
He rubbed the shard like a genie's lamp. "Come on, quit snoozin'!" His bloodshot eyes homed on it tightly, expecting a burst of enchantment to come out. Maybe grant him a hidden escape path; turn Ashley into a spoon; or give him a little pat on the back and tell him things will be okay.
Still nothing.
Swooosh. The sound of the butt was a silent whisper, but raised dust particles around his mouse-hole hideout. He wobbled more against the unyielding pressure, feeling blood rush to every extremity and boil. His vision was blurring, either from pain or rage. Wario was again glued to the intangible backside, stuck by sweat and pressure for an agonizing second - before dropping down.
He screamed in the loudest voice possible while still avoiding detection: "Work with me! You got some kinda magic, right? Show me! Show me!" He twisted the treasure, pretending it was a GBA with a gyro sensor cartridge.
With another quiet breeze, Wario lay pinned beneath the phantasmal projection of Ashley's firm butt. Both soft cheeks lodged him between them, tightly wedged into the crack. Thrashing uselessly, his limbs flung against the unfeeling muscle, lost in the petite derriere's folds. Ashley's slow, thumping pulse echoed through his quivering bones. She twisted her seat for better lighting on her book, grinding the effigy - and her victim - deeper into the smooth, black-clad plane. It only lasted seconds; but to him, it was the length of a dentist visit, with no needle to numb the piercing agony.
The mountainous girl lifted to her rubbery soles again, prying the doll off herself with a little groan. "Gross. Hope you're enjoying yourself, at least." With thundering stomps in circles, she checked to see if anyone had entered and surrendered to her hexes. Glaring scarlet eyes barely passed Wario's hole, missing him gasping for breath, as her arms crossed. Each leg, with magnified fabric fibers, landed in front of the well-used seat - and the figure, worn face facing up to the slightly-crouched rear with wordless screams. "In ten seconds, you'll come out." Her voice was no louder than usual, but left a trailing echo off the library walls. "And if you say no, you're toast."
It took those room-shaking words to snap Wario's broken body from the ground. "Fat chance... Hurry up!" He held the Crescent Moon Shard up and chanted every magical incantation he knew: from "Open Sesame"; to "Henshin a Go-Go"; to Zelda's Lullaby. "ARGH, WORK! Piece of junk! I bet you're just a fake shard, you don't even have any powers!" He shook it with all his might, like an adventurer loosening money from the Endless Coin Bag of the Shake Dimension, like a Ultra-Intergalactic-Cybot-G holding an unruly Clancer, like a man clutching to the last threads of his sanity and hope before it fell to the threads of a phantasmic pantyhose.
With a brief curtsey... THUD.
It happened in a single deft movement:
Ashley's knees bent, shifting the candle-lit shadows of her pigtails across the dizzying library shelves.
The cheeks hit the doll, driving him into the chair under the crushing weight above.
Wario, on an upward shake, felt a complete mountain of soft, perky bricks fall on his head, molding with such strength that his helmet caved in.
In agony, he released the Crescent Moon Shard.
The treasure gleamed gently as it rushed out of the mouse-hole, leaving the bandit to look in terror.
It weaved over the chair's seat, and under its backrest, piercing a small hole the who-doo doll's bulging cranium.
With a sigh impatience - and a vengeful, punishing push - Ashley's cheeks impacted the effigy - this time, with increased force.
Stuffing bunched up at the aperture, and spilled from it in a single spurt.
Her powerful ass muscles had squeezed so hard that the tiny incision from the shard ripped into a wide opening, spilling all its innards out like confetti.
Wario, luckily, was wearing a helmet, and felt nothing on his noggin but the same ungodly crushing force. (Always remember: safety first!)
With the doll unstuffed, the mustache hair - connecting it to the thief - slid off.
In a snap, the pressure lifted from him. A few gusts of damp air welcomed his lungs' restoration to their original fullness. Blowing on his thumb, he inflated his head to its proper, swollen scale. Had that sadistic witch apprentice had gotten up for another blow? After his eyes creaked open, getting used to to the lack of pain, he clearly saw her still there sitting, reading. She spoke up: "Come out... now!"
And returned to her book, not noticing the figure she'd crushed the magic out of.
Victory! Using superior intelligence, and not just sheer luck, Wario conquered a girl's tush! She never even knew he was there! He patted himself on the back, flashing victory signs. It was thanks to that Crescent Moon Shard! All he had to do was sneak out with it!
...Then he realized: he was free because he threw it out the hole. The treasure presently rested by Ashley's swaying soles, in a pile of fluff.
He grumbled, readjusting his dented helmet, torn collar, and mighty mustache. "So ein mist..."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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