And yet, when Henrietta stood and you went with her booty, you felt...odd. Instead of being a flat blob, your body had slightly maintained it's disc like shape, no doubt thanks to the droplets of Full Length the blonde had drizzled onto you. In fact, Henrietta peeled you free a second later, and you caught a glimpse of what shape your body was in. You wanted to die of humiliated shame at the mere sight.
Your whole body was still circular-ish, but the most noticeable feature of your new form was the two ass-cheek-imprinted craters carved into your body! Henrietta had effectively just used you as plaster to cast a mold of her butt! Half of your body was in the shape of her left cheek, the other half in the shape of her right, and only your nose and mouth in the middle! Suddenly, Henrietta's statement about molding you into 'ass armor' was beginning to make sense, and you started to sob.
The blonde spotted a tear falling down your cheek, and she grinned smugly. "Oh, but wait, little speck! I haven't even finished the final step. Please hold your tears of joy until your queen's masterwork is complete!" With a flourish and a cackle, Henrietta tossed you into the bowl of Full Length and glue mix, then pressed you down until you sank beneath the surface. Up above, her visage grew more blurry and distorted, until all you could make out was the young woman's sadistic smirk.
And there in the bowl Henrietta let you rot, leaving you to soak in the foul substances for over twenty minutes until your stupid traitorous affected genetics had greedily sopped up enough to complete The Haughty's twisted plan. When she removed you from the bowl, you could feel your body's newer hardened state, and the utter lack of that particular tingle that came with reforming. The glue had solidified you, and the Full Length had now trapped you. Without solvent, it would be permanent, and if Henrietta's domination over you hadn't been rock-solid before, it sure as hell was now.
Henrietta stroked you affectionately. "Ah, my ass armor emerges from the forge, ready for its new life in service of its queen. Or, at least it's queen royal rump!" Henrietta erupted into laughter, simultaneously wasting no time in beginning your service. She lowered you behind herself, and the twin golden-brown mountains of ass flesh rose to meet you as you were brought closer and closer until finally...contact.
From a pain point of view, your new form wasn't the worst thing you'd ever experienced. Cupping around Henrietta's cheeks like a second skin, you were certainly pressed tightly, but your hardened body couldn't be smeared and smushed like earlier. And, since Henrietta had molded you to fit perfectly thanks to that earlier butt stomp maneuver, you weren't too tight or too lose. On the surface, it was actually an improvement from your earlier bout with being a booty cheek tattoo.
But that was only at a surface level.
Half of your face was still pressed firmly into the girl's left glute, your left eye included, and the other half into her right, including your right eye. It was uncomfortable, and Henrietta's simplest shifts still jostled her ass flesh right into you, tightly squeezing against you. Your nose and mouth were also right at the dank abyss of her crack, and already the smell was atrocious, and drops of sweat dripped into your mouth with you wholly unable to stop them. And all that wasn't even to mention the damned Full Length, or the fact that your very survival as a human was now 100$ in The Haughty's sadistic and self-centered hands!
But your torment wasn't Henrietta's concern. Instead, she was quite pleased with her ass armor idea, smacking her booty and grinning at the hard contact of your solidified body. With this armor, she could block and attack just like TripleB could, as well as make a damn powerful fashion statement while she did it. Already, Henrietta's mind was spinning with the possibility of making her next merchandising item knockoff ass armor using Tinex. Or perhaps real tinies, if her PR team could scrounge up enough persuadable volunteers.
Pulling her fishnet stockings back up, Henrietta glowed with pride. "You fit well, little speck. But let's see how you perform. Will you fail me again as miserably as before, or have you maybe found your calling in life? Let your queen put your will to the test, little one, and I'll see if you bend to my whims or break from the stress!" Chuckling, Henrietta strolled out of the locker room, heading back to the stage once more.
*****
Riley's eyes widened at the sight of the tan-colored protective piece covering The Haughty's ass as the blonde took her place in the ring. She'd never known The Haughty to wear any sort of armor outside of her normal bikini-esque outfit, but it was honestly a pretty good look. Practical too, the more Riley thought about it. And it nearly blended in with her skintone, so it wasn't jarringly distracting or anything.
Of course, it was also, quite obviously, a tiny. Or a PET, rather, and Riley had to silently chew on that realization for a while.
She wasn't stupid. She knew that many (or most, actually) of the wrestlers in the Fatale League used PETs. She also knew that being a PET was a paid volunteer position. Tinies couldn't just be forcibly conscripted against their will or something dystopian like that. That would be cruel and wrong. No, Riley knew tinies only became PETs if that's what they wanted out of their lives. Dedicating themselves to the service of unaffected. It was sweet and selfless.
It still sat a little wrong with her. Riley had a hard time believing that any tinies out there actually wanted to be stomped and squished and worn and used like PETs so commonly were. Sure, everyone was different, but Riley had a lot of experience with a few tinies, and none of them enjoyed being squished.
You had chewed her out for forgetting you'd volunteered as her sweat rag for a day and then she used you for two weeks. Piper and Rosa had looked a little worse for wear when Riley sheepishly fished them out of the toilet since she'd eaten them with her protein shake. Grace had stopped talking to her for a few days after that time Riley had used her as an insole for three weeks without realizing after she forgot they'd made a dare about the girl climbing into her shoe. And Aidan had to be comforted into drying his tears that one time Riley realize that he was the stress toy she'd been thoroughly obliterating for days on end.
She'd never met a tiny who liked the treatment PETs endured. So...did PETs really like it? Riley wasn't sure.
But, Henrietta's unspoken endorsement was strong evidence that they did. After all, Riley trusted Henrietta implicitly, even though she'd never directly met the girl properly (and she'd love to, someday). The Haughty was a superstar, and famous people never lied or hid who they were behind closed doors! That would be deceitful!
Sitting back, Riley let out a cheer for The Haughty and resigned herself to just seeing how the match progressed.
*****
The Haughty utterly dominated, all thanks to her new ass armor. Her opponent didn't quite go easy on her, but it was still a fairly one-sided ordeal. A much more appropriate showdown than Henrietta's ruthless beating of Nitra. Everyone in the crowd walked away from the match pleased with the outcome, even for fans of The Haughty's foe.
Said foe was Dorothy Darling (real name Dorothy Fields), a gorgeous and sickly-sweet southern girl with deeply tanned skin, pronounced freckles, and strawberry blonde hair wrapped up in two cute pigtails. Her ring outfit consisted of a front-tied red checkered top that pushed up and accentuated her already pronounced breasts, and cut-off jean short shorts so miniscule that left a fair bit of her suntanned cheeks hanging out. Big brown boots with little heart-shaped spurs, and a wide-brimmed straw hat she'd toss to an eager fan before each match completed the look.
Dorothy specialized in kicks and aggressive tackles, playing into both her persona and her legitimate upbringing wrangling animals on a pig farm. She was a down and dirty girl, which was a humorous and engaging mix compared to her sweet and innocent manner of speaking and behaving outside of fights. It always felt like Dorothy was having a fun time in the ring, whether she was winning or losing. Her signature move was Down on the Farm, a maneuver which had her body-slamming her opponent from the top rope, usually aiming her abundant chest or ass at the foe's head for maximum impact and entertainment value.
But, Dorothy couldn't quite manage to grasp The Haughty's tricky maneuvers with her new ass armor. Henrietta prioritized booty-based maneuvers, and Dorothy Darling found herself unable to keep up. Henrietta's strikes hit hard thanks to your solidified body pounding against the farmgirl, and Dorothy's retaliatory strikes barely bothered Henrietta thanks to you. They bothered you, of course. Dorothy had a lot of muscle under her freckled curves, and your body ached and groaned from the stings of her kicks and punches.
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