Jenice rolled her shoulders. She was in her element: the girls were terrified and compliant, Frances was probably passed out (no one else knew how much she liked to drink), and no one else on this big, stupid bus dared to fuck with them, not even the driver. She clenched her jaws with excitement: this was as close as she ever needed to get to complete, total, unfettered control.
She wrapped her slim fingers around the waistband of Ariana’s tortured leggings. “Hold right there. We gotta get this just right.” It took some effort on her part, but she managed to yank a couple fistfuls of waistband down around the Latina’s broad hips, exposing ever more bulging butt cheeks and deep ass crack. The headlights of the persistent car behind them only made her cheeks look rosier and the crack even more shadowy. “You getting this, Dee-Dee?”
Ariana had no idea what there was to “get,” and Rachael was a wet, sobbing mess. Jenice watched the tall, goofy woman fumbling with her smartphone until the bright LED light bleached the broad landscape of Ariana’s butt, bringing into high contrast the tiny, pale legs that wriggled in the ass-cleavage. The rest of the hapless shrunken man was lost within the depths of the Latina. Jenice cupped her hand behind the struggling figure, grinning at Dee-Dee’s camera. “And there he is, ladies, the last traces of this ridiculous little fuck getting swallowed by this big, beautiful ass. Get a good look, because it ain’t gonna last!” She drew her hand back and hauled off with a sharp, resounding CRACK that got everyone’s attention.
Ariana sucked breath through her teeth, blushing against Rachael’s messy hair—there was no way for Jenice to know how much she liked a good slap, but this was not the time or place. As she recovered herself, savoring the burning sting on one round cheek, she felt the struggling diminish. “There you go,” Jenice said behind her, cackling. “Hey, Ariana, if you’re done making out with your girlfriend there, you wanna help out here? I need you to spread your cheeks.”
Ariana closed her eyes. This was getting to be too much… but how many times had she said that in the past? And that suggested she’d keep on saying it, while going along with the evil redhead’s every whim endlessly into the future. There had to be a line somewhere. “Uh, I can’t really do that right now. I’m holding this whiny bitch down with both hands. Don’t want her running up to the chaperones or anything.”
Jenice’s head bobbed as she weighed the merits of this flimsy excuse. “Fine, right. Mona, c’mere please.” Within seconds, it was the shy, smiling woman’s hands that planted upon the Latina’s broad cheeks and struggled to pry them apart: her friend was bent over, proffering her rear to the bus aisle. Muscles and skin were already pretty well stretched in this position, plus the apprehension of her round thighs by these surprisingly enduring leggings. But Mona put some good effort into it, trying this grip and then that one, replacing her little hands to find the best place to pull the fleshy spheres apart and then lock into a comfortable position for whatever the gang’s lieutenant had in mind.
“Goddamn it,” Ariana muttered, hanging her head almost into Rachael’s chest. “This is so fucked up. Goddamn it. And this is all your fault, you ignorant bitch.” She turned her blushing cheeks toward the sobbing girl. “If you would’ve kept your damn hands to yourself, not go grabbing any shiny fucking object you see, neither of us—neither of us—would be in this position. I promise you that.”
“I’m sorry.” The frail girl choked, gasping for air between sobs. “Just save him. Don’t hurt him, this isn’t his fault. Why won’t you save him?”
Ariana really wished her hands were free, but she knew Rachael would hop up and cause some stupid trouble. Rachael had no idea what it felt like to have your close friend groping your own backside, pulling it apart, feeling the cooler air filter down there while a tiny little man wriggles into your butt like some idiot worm. And all the while you knew that fuckin’ Dee-Dee was filming the whole thing, and fuck if Dee-Dee could keep a secret if she thought she could crawl up the social ladder a little bit. And this bitch is just whining and sniveling about some fucked-up little guy she stole in a diner? Frustrated beyond words, Ariana swung her head like a mace into the smaller girl’s face, knocking her back into the bus seat. She only stopped crying for about two seconds, before collapsing against the rattling bus window. In another couple seconds, Ariana was about to be pissed enough to go after Jenice… She sighed, gritting her teeth, knowing that would never happen.
Jenice laughed as she watched the little feet kicking away, kicking until they could only struggle against the curves of the libero’s vast cheeks, spread apart by her buddy, the defensive specialist. Within seconds they were totally gone, disappeared, subsumed into the young woman’s crack. Jenice glanced at Dee-Dee, who nodded vigorously and shut off the camera. There was nothing else to film: what happened next was only for them.
“All right, get up,” Jenice said, making a show of laboriously hauling the taut waistband up over Ariana’s hips once more, snugging them left and right until they looked like they were in place. She admired her work, then leaned in to grab the huge cheeks with both hands. “Ooh, I love ya!” she squealed, planting a comical kiss next to the deep ass crack before helping Ariana back out of the seat and stand in the aisle. Immediately Dee-Dee flowed into position, pinning wretched Rachael down just in case. Jenice was a little surprised at the show of initiative. “Can you feel him in there?”
Ariana thought for a moment, then nodded. She futzed around with straightening her hair, hoping her cheeks would cool down soon: the slap and the kiss from a hot, dangerous girl like Jenice was too potent a combination for her to think about for very long. Such a fucked up evening.
“All right, this part’s easy. No point in video because no one’ll be able to see it. But we’ll know he’s there, right?” Jenice tilted her head and grinned at Ariana. “I just want you to walk around a little bit.”
The Latina frowned slightly. “We pulling over or something?” She looked out the window to see the rest stop, but the bus was trucking along unabated.
“No, just right here, up and down the aisle.” Jenice glanced at Mona, who backed up to block the seats ahead of dormant Frances. There was no risk of anyone else messing with the gang now: most women were asleep or chastened after watching the frizzy-haired girl get torn into. Mona smiled at Ariana warmly, for no reason Ariana could understand. Did she not know what the fuck was going on right now?
Ariana glanced at Jenice, who sat down behind Frances and nodded at her. She took a couple tentative steps up to her friend, stopping just short of her massive rack. Mona was a few inches taller than Ariana, so the sultry young woman grinned down at her over the hillside of her massive bosom, and her ass still smarted from Jenice’s flat palm… Such a fucked up evening. Ariana was going to have to think about this for a long, long time.
She turned and faced the back door, met with a feline grin from Jenice on the right and Dee-Dee craning to gawk at her over her shoulder on the left. She felt two enormous boobs gently nudge against the back of her neck and shoulders, which got a raised eyebrow from Jenice, so Ariana decided she’d better start walking.
It was a surreal exercise. No one could see the tiny man in her ass, but everyone knew he was there. Ariana couldn’t see him, but she could feel the little lump of mass between her cheeks, stuck a few inches above her poop hole, probably. Hard to tell. She couldn’t always feel him there, either. His body was so thin and so small, if she just stood there for a while her butt got used to having him in there and he disappeared. She walked toward the back door, taking long, slow strides and rolling her hips exaggeratedly, like a comical sashay or something. Jenice said something encouraging and Dee-Dee guffawed, but Ariana was intent on this overly stylized strut. One foot in front of the other, swinging one hip and then the other, putting her shoulders into it. She liked this, the syncopated step-swivel-step. She always wanted to be a dancer, but the formal classes her mom paid for ended with some haughty instructor telling her she was too short, she was too plump to ever come to anything. Which was dumb for her mom to enter her into ballet rather than ballroom rumba. She taught herself salsa on YouTube, just some basic steps, but she loved it. It would’ve made more sense.
Abruptly the tiny man started struggling again. No teeth or nails, just a little knot of a person writhing deep in her butt, like if she’d stuck her finger in there and wriggled it a little bit. Probably weaker than that, actually. She gave her ass a clench, but it didn’t calm him down or anything, so she finished her strut right up to the emergency door in the back. There were the headlights, two lights on either side, a dingy yellow like some older car. She couldn’t see the person driving the car, with the headlights catching all the dust on the bus’s back windows. Just some woman, driving endlessly into the night, never knowing when this bus was gonna pull over.
Some woman, trying to get her husband back. That’s what Rachael said, she swiped this tiny man from a woman at the counter in the diner. Ariana tried to peer into the windshield and see what the woman looked like. Was she as old as the man? How old was he? Was she mad? Was she crying?
Ariana turned from the window on her toes, like in ballet, and started to jog up the aisle to really make her ass bounce.