Immediately, you felt it impact against your form and launch you through the air and away from Hope. You spun head-over-heels, barely able to make out Hope's shocked expression at your sudden exit. The wind pushed you upwards about ten feet, and a flash of red was the last thing you saw before you made a clumsy landing in a crumpled heap.
It hurt a bit, and certainly disoriented you, but it was worth it to escape Hope's clutches.
Now, to be honest, Hope ranked pretty low on the scale of giantesses who had messed with you throughout your life. After all, she technically liked you and her treatment was positive-leaning, if extremely unwanted. She wasn't even the first full-figured woman to have an irrepressible crush on you. Your good friend Ashley had once been almost as bad as Hope, and was thirty times more dangerous given that (unlike Hope's tactically deceitful ditzy klutziness) Ashley truly was as dense and lacking in common sense as they came. You couldn't count the number of times Ashley had nearly ended your life in some ridiculous humiliating way or other.
And, you were thankful that Hope, despite her incessant flirting, wasn't actually trying to steal you from Mari like some love-crazed yandere from an anime. She more or less had a 'Matt Affection Tank' in her heart that, when full, kept her reserved to simple winks and waves, and when empty, spurred her onto hunting you down and spending a day kissing and squeezing you. Once her tank was full, she'd release you, usually be being near one of your friends or family so she could get a proverbial pat on the back by 'miraculously' discovering you stuck to her body.
Of course, that being said, you had no doubt Hope would be the last person to complain should some crazy devil overtake your mind and actually force you to forsake Mari and want a life with Hope. Hope wasn't a homewrecker, but she'd gladly be your side-chick if you simply asked...which is why you always spoke clearly and concisely around her to ensure she never mistook your intentions and escalated things beyond what she already did to you. And even that you, again, wished would stop.
Regardless, you'd slipped her grasp now, and knew you needed to stand up quick and take stock of your surroundings before Hope snatched you again. You'd risen higher into the air, but not too far from her, so you knew time was short.
The ground around you shook and quaked as you reformed your squished limbs, and you scanned the area and quickly realized that you'd been blown up onto the lifeguard chair nearest to where Hope had been standing, which happened to be right by the lap pool. To your left was, eight feet below you, a trash can. To your right was Hope, and you shivered as the eager blonde locked eyes with you, her shock turning to delighted glee. Behind you was the backrest of the chair, and in front of you was a humongous ass about to crush you flat.
Wait, a what? You mind slowly repeated.
Your brain, still rattled from your brief flight through the air, didn't even have time to properly reconcile what was happening before the dark ass cheeks of none other than Kenzie Malachi slammed down upon you, smushing you into paste.
At the exact moment the wind had caught your body, Kenzie had been approaching the chair to claim her post for the next chunk of her shift. She'd vaguely taken notice of Hope, but hadn't seen you at all. She'd certainly failed to notice your presence on her chair, but it wasn't as if she'd checked her seat for stray tinies anyway. Kenzie never checked her seat, or her shoes, or the sidewalk in front of her, or the employee toilet (much to the horror of Grace one fateful summer day), or anything else. Point of fact, Kenzie just never did anything, unless it exclusively benefited her, or not doing it would get her fired.
Kenzie's wide hips only barely squeezed into the confines of the chair's armrests, and they still dug into her thighs a bit. The most voluptuous girl on the staff at The Oasis (and just one of the most voluptuous girls you'd ever encountered, at that) Kenzie didn't quite fit into a lot of places logistically speaking, nor a lot of clothing. Her lycra one-piece uniform, the biggest size Selena could order, was like a painted-on second skin, clinging to Kenzie's curves in a head-turningly indecent manner. Most pertinently, the rear of the suit was little more than a thong plunging into the depths of Kenzie's ass crack, and leaving each planetary booty cheek fully exposed.
This mattered, because it was that bare flesh you now found yourself imprisoned by. Slightly off-center on the lifeguard chair as you'd been, you were now fully enveloped by Kenzie's left ass cheek, squashed in place just an inch off from where her cheek began to curve inward to her butt crack. At that proximity, the rank fumes of the half-white, half-black girl's crack already assaulted your nostrils, but the smell was hardly comparable to the indescribable pain of the girl's monumentally girthy weight being poured down upon your battered body. You gave a feeble, imperceptible twitch, but it was useless. You had no hope of budging at all.
And it only got worse, as Kenzie shimmied a bit to get comfortable, dragging her ass back and forth across the seat. You let out a silent cry of pain as the girl smeared you with her ass, steamrolling you with hot sweaty flesh and further reducing your body into a tortured blob even thinner than paper. Kenzie then crossed her legs, shifting more weight onto her left cheek, and thusly you. Your muted cries of agony only doubled as she did so, yet your squashed lips pressed tightly into the girl's sweat-slicked ass flesh, produced no sound or sensation powerful enough for her to notice.
Not as if she'd have lifted a finger to help you even if it had.
Thankfully (and the irony was not lost on you), Hope had seen what had transpired, and quickly rushed to your rescue.
"Um, excuse me. Kenzie!" Hope called from the bottom of the lifeguard chair ladder. "You totally just sat on Mister Jacobs."
Kenzie's eyebrows rose slightly, and she glanced back at her prodigious posterior. "Really? Didn't feel him." As if to test Hope's words, she ground her derriere against the seat a bit more, doing nothing to aid in her feeling you, but absolutely sending you into another spasm of uncomfortable misery of crushing and flattening.
Hope winced. "Well, you did, so please stop. You're probably hurting him."
"Probably not, though. Tinies are super resilient, right?" Kenzie proposed. "Besides, all this might be heavy, but it's soft as hell." She gave her ass a playful slap and smirked coyly down at Hope.
Hope was nonplussed. "Listen, Kenzie. I know you're the laziest girl ever born, but can you please just help Mister Jacobs out? It'll only take you a second to give him back to me."
Kenzie smirked. "Yeah, no. I'm not helping you get your boytoy back, Hope. You can feign innocence all you want, but Matt wasn't gonna make it through today without being crammed up your own perky booty either, and yours would've been on purpose!"
Hope's eyes widened, and she blushed fiercely. Caught in the act of faking her ditzyness, Hope pouted. "W-Well, whatever. Fine, you can take care of him. J-Just free him, alright? No one wants to spend a day under your fat ass." Hope crumbled a few more choice words under her breath as she stomped away.
Kenzie smiled victoriously, having yet again talked her way out of having to do annoying work and spending more energy than she felt like...which was basically nothing. Even still, she was just convinced enough to lean forward in her seat and use her left hand to heft her bootylicious left butt cheek off the seat.
"Don't know if you heard all that, Matt." Kenzie said over her shoulder. "I drove Hope off, so you owe me for that. Otherwise, sucks that you ended up in my seat, cuz I've still got three hours left. After that, I'll head to a patrol, so you'll be free to reform. Unless, like, another girl shows up before you do and sits on you. That wouldn't be good, I take it. Unless you're into this stuff, but I won't assume. I also really don't care." Kenzie huffed a laugh and moved to drop her cheek again.
With every ounce of strength you could spare, you ripped your mouth free from the dark-skinned girl's ass and screamed out. "Kenzie! Please just free me!"
The girl hesitated, and your hopes soared only to crash and burn. "Um, no. That sounds really annoying."
With that, Kenzie plopped back down onto the seat, and you were mercilessly crushed once more by the black-curly-haired girl, her unfathomably ginormous booty claiming you again.
You knew, and Kenzie had to know, that it would take her seconds to save you and flick you away to freedom. And yet, Kenzie Malachi just wouldn't do it. Not out of sadism. Not out of misplaced flirting like Hope. Not even strictly out of apathy. Out of sheer, unadulterated laziness.
These three hours would be hell...
*****
...and hell they were, a hell in which felt three times as long. You nearly passed out several times having to endure Kenzie's impossibly painful weight and her unceasingly crushing left butt cheek. Not to mention the deluge of sweat and slowly worsening stench. But, finally, the girl started to stand, signalling the end of her sitting, and the end of this misery!
Or was it?
1) Kenzie stands, and you're left behind on the chair. When the next lifeguard comes, she spots you and graciously frees you.
2) Kenzie stands, and you're left behind on the chair. However, the next lifeguard fails to spot you before sitting, and you're crushed all over again!
3) Kenzie stands, and you go with her! You aren't on the chair, you're glued to her left butt cheek!
4) Kenzie stands, and you're peeled free like a slingshot, flying away towards an open grassy spot where a bunch of ladies are just lying down to tan.
5) *Writer's Choice*
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