You feel Cindy take a quick turn and then stop abruptly. For a moment you are unsure of what could be going on, but then you detect the familiar scent of coffee—an immediate source of dread for you. You know well what caffeine can do to human bowels, especially on a busy day when stress levels are high and bathroom breaks are few.
The air around Cindy thickens with the smell of the freshly brewed coffee as she pauses for a brief exchange with a colleague. Her laughter, light and airy, does nothing to alleviate your growing apprehension. Each chuckle is a vibration through your world, each snicker a tremor through your satin “body”.
As Cindy's conversation with her colleague wraps up, she steadily makes her way to her desk. Her pace slows slightly as she maneuvers through the last few turns, your sense of impending disaster growing with each step closer to her seat. Your surroundings become increasingly warm as the office's morning activity picks up, the heat generated by electronic devices and human bodies alike adding to your discomfort.
You're jostled harshly as she pauses and stands in what must be her cubicle. You quickly gather that she must have dropped something, for a sudden dip follows as Cindy bends over. This action pulls you deeper into the abyss between her cheeks. The stretch and pull on your satin “body” as she bends sends a ripple of tension across your "face," further intensifying the already uncomfortable pressure. You’re once again pushed up against her asshole. The sudden closeness to her anus sparks a fresh wave of dread, your amplified sense of smell picking up on every nuance of her body's scent, and your unfortunate sense of taste lingering uncomfortably with the salty hint of sweat and a traces of a bitter taste that you don’t want to think about.
As Cindy straightens back up, the pressure momentarily lessens, giving you a brief reprieve. The back of the thong, where your “face” is located, snaps back into a slightly less invasive position as Cindy adjusts her clothing unknowingly. The micro-adjustments she makes unknowingly are a mix of relief and anxiety for you. Each tug and shift subtly alters the fabric's tension around you, a fleeting moment of respite followed by the awareness that it could worsen at any second.
Cindy finally settles into her chair, the cushion beneath her conforming to her shape, and inadvertently forcing you into an even tighter embrace around and under her body. The office chair squeaks softly as she shifts, finding a comfortable position to start her workday. This shift of Cindy’s weight as she settles into her chair presses you deeply into the soft, yet unforgiving crevice between her butt cheeks.
The sensation is overwhelming, and you brace yourself for the hours ahead, each minute ticking by with excruciating slowness. Cindy taps away at her keyboard, each keystroke reverberating through your tiny form. The office buzzes around her, colleagues chatting, phones ringing - a symphony of everyday office life that Cindy navigates smoothly, all while you endure your silent torment.
As the morning wears on, the office temperature seems to creep higher, exacerbating your already precarious situation. Cindy remains largely oblivious to the discomfort she inadvertently inflicts as she immerses herself in a spreadsheet, her concentration absolute. Occasionally, she leans forward to scrutinize a particularly complex data set, each lean pressing you deeper into her warm, confining space.
Suddenly, Cindy leans forward to answer a phone call. This adjustment pulls you even further into the tight gap between her cheeks, your “face” just a millimeter away from meeting her anus directly. The phone conversation is intense, Cindy's voice tight with urgency, perhaps discussing quarterly reports or client demands. Each word she utters vibrates through you, the intensity of her tone only adding to the building pressure around and within you. As she talks, her body heat rises, the temperature in her immediate vicinity climbing as stress emanates from her like an invisible cloud.
You feel the dampness increasing around you as well, the humidity of her body heat mingling with the oppressive warmth of the crowded office. Sweat builds up around your satin "body," the moisture seeping into the fabric. The musky odor of stress sweat fills your senses, a stark reminder of your trapped state. Your “taste buds” tingle with the salty sting of perspiration that seeps into your fabric.
As the phone call drags on, Cindy's agitation seems to increase. You can feel every shift and twitch of her body through the delicate fabric that constitutes your being. The conversation is winding down, but the tension remains high, manifesting physically in Cindy’s increasingly restless movements. Her anxiety translates into minute shifts that tug and pull at you relentlessly.
The call ends with a sharp click, and Cindy sighs deeply—a profound exhalation that reverberates through your satin essence. As she leans back in her chair, attempting to relax after the stressful interaction, you feel a slight easing of the pressure against you.
Cindy reaches to take another sip of her now lukewarm coffee, and you feel a subtle rumble above you. Your heart would skip a beat if you had one. The hum of conversation around the office fades into a distant echo as you focus on the ominous gurgling sounds emanating from Cindy's abdomen. Each gurgle is a sinister whisper in your ear, foretelling the impending payload that might soon be released upon you. The dread seeps through every fiber of your satin "skin," as the gurgling grows louder, more insistent.
Cindy, oblivious to the storm brewing within her, continues her work, her fingers typing on the keyboard with renewed vigor after the draining phone call. She shifts slightly in her seat — a small movement for her, but a seismic event for you as it presses you closer against the soft yet unyielding barrier of her flesh.
Minutes pass like hours under the increasing heat and pressure. Each minute feels longer than the last, each shift a potential precursor to the disaster you fear most. You remain on high alert, the tension building with every passing second, wondering when the inevitable will occur.
What happens next?
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author