Inez’s massive fingers pinched you by the torso and lifted you up before you could finish your sentence.
“H-hey! I can sit with Brinley—!”
“Nope,” Inez said flatly, already handing you off to Carmine like you were a bag of snacks. “You’ve been bristly all morning, Allegra. You need a little adversity. Carmine, teach her something on this flight.”
“With pleasure,” Carmine purred, her enormous hand closing around you with a smug finality.
You twisted to look back at Brinley, silently begging her to intervene — but she just gave you an apologetic little smile and blew you a kiss. “Be good for Carmine, babe!”
Some wife you have.
Carmine held you aloft, smirking like a cat that had just caught a mouse. “You hear that, Insectito? Be good for me.”
“Carmine, you better not—”
But you didn’t get to finish, because she unceremoniously dropped you into her lap and clamped her thick thighs around you like a vice.
You let out a muffled hrrk as you were instantly squashed down, half of your tiny body disappearing into the taut fabric of her leggings. The heat radiating off her skin was stifling, and every shift of muscle pressed you deeper until you felt like a sticker being applied to her leg.
“This is mean,” you mumbled into her thigh-flesh.
“Shhh.” Carmine’s huge hand patted you through the fabric, forcing you another few millimeters into her lap. “Planes can be dangerous for something as teensy as you. I’m just making sure you don’t blow away if there’s a strong draft.”
“This is a airplane there will be no draft!" you yelled. "Plus I’d rather blow away!” you squeaked, trying to peel yourself off her leg but Carmine just giggled and crossed one leg over the other, pinning you even flatter between her thighs.
The plane roared to life, and as it rolled down the runway you felt every vibration travel through Carmine’s muscles, jiggling you like gelatin.
Then the seatbelt sign dinged off, and Carmine decided to “entertain herself.”
“Let’s see how many shapes I can mash you into,” she said cheerfully, plucking you up and squishing you between her palms. You flattened into a little Allegra pancake, your limbs splayed comically as Carmine laughed.
“Carmine!” you whined, trying to reform.
But before you could fully recover, the plane hit turbulence. Carmine’s hands reflexively clenched — HARD.
You went paper-thin with a pathetic squeak, molded perfectly to her palm-print, your face mashed so flat you could barely breathe.
“Oops,” Carmine said, not sounding sorry at all. “Guess you better stay nice and limp, huh?”
You barely had time to reform before she wedged you under her butt, pinning you under one cheek like you were an uncomfortable seat cushion. Her weight pressed down until you felt your torso compress into a single solid shape, ribs bending to fit the curve of her seat.
You struggled feebly, kicking against her thigh — which only made her bounce a little on top of you.
“Ohhh, that tickles,” she teased. “You might as well settle in down there.”
You were still sputtering when a shadow fell over the row.
“What’s going on here?”
The voice was smooth, authoritative, but tinged with curiosity rather than outright anger.
You craned your neck just enough to stick your head out from beneath your cousins booty. You then saw the flight attendant towering over Carmine. She was tall — maybe 5’11 — and wore her navy-blue uniform like it was a second skin, her broad hips and toned arms filling it out perfectly. Her skin was a deep, warm brown, and her sharp cheekbones framed a pair of keen hazel eyes that looked like they could spot a problem a mile away. A golden name tag gleamed against her blazer: Alyssa.
Carmine smiled up innocently. “Just keeping my cousin safe. You know how it is with the little ones.”
“She was trying to hurt me!” you shouted from under Carmine’s butt, your voice muffled but audible.
Alyssa’s brows arched slightly, but her expression stayed calm. She extended one massive, perfectly manicured hand. “Let me have her.”
Before Carmine could argue, Alyssa plucked you up by the waist with practiced ease, holding you delicately but securely in front of her face.
“Well,” she said after a beat, her lips curving into a small smile. “This actually works out. The captains just called up that they could use an affected passenger for something.”
You blinked. “For—what?!”
Alyssa’s smile widened just a little, and she tucked you carefully into the palm of her hand. “You’ll see soon enough. Don’t worry — you’ll be helping us keep this flight running smoothly.”
You were still sputtering protests as she turned on her heel, her long legs carrying you briskly toward the front of the plane. The further you went, the quieter the cabin noise seemed to get, until you were staring at the imposing door to the cockpit.
Alyssa knocked twice, then swiped her keycard.
The heavy door clicked and swung open.
“Got you some help,” Alyssa said, her warm alto voice carrying into the cabin. “An affected passenger, just like you asked.”
You barely caught a glimpse of two silhouettes inside — one tall and lean, one a little shorter but rounder. Before Alyssa set you down on the small center console and stepped back.
“Captains, she’s all yours,” Alyssa said, with a little wink down at you.
The door shut behind you with a final click.
You turned, staring up at the looming forms of the pilot and co-pilot.
And then the plane hit another small patch of turbulence, making the entire cockpit shudder and the two women steady themselves on the controls.
Both of them turned to look down at you at once.
Option 1: Captain Priya & Co-Pilot Kavita
Two Indian women in crisp uniforms are suffering from post-lunch curry gas. They need you stuffed down the back of their pants as a tiny fart absorber. Can you survive being flattened and squished for their relief?
Option 2: Captain Sienna & Co-Pilot Tori
Sienna, tall with sleek black hair, and Tori, short and fiery, need you as a living footpad to test new anti-slip cockpit shoes. One wrong wiggle and you’ll be crushed under their soles.
Option 3: Captain Naomi & Co-Pilot Jade
Naomi, tall with mocha skin and braids, and Jade, petite with icy blue eyes, are having a fight. They need you as a mediator to stay calm. Fail, and you could be squished under boots or tossed aside in frustration.
Option 4: Captain Lupe & Co-Pilot Sol
Two Latina sisters, exhausted from back-to-back red-eyes, need caffeine to stay awake. You’ll be their living alarm clock, wedged against them to keep them alert. One misstep, and you could be flattened under a slump or clamped under their heads.
Option 5: Captain Elise & Co-Pilot Mara
Elise, tall with platinum hair, and Mara, medium with jet-black hair, find their bras unbearably itchy mid-flight. They need you to act as a tiny living bra insert. One slip-up, and you’ll be squashed between cup and skin.
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
