The last thing Stool saw before Gloria’s mom dropped her enormous set of butt cheeks was Diego rolling to safely. The sunlight snuffed out in a flash, and Stool was struggling for air. The left side of his face was pressed against the covers, and his right nostril cringed against the musky scent of her warm sweatpants. Her weight was squeezing out his oxygen in the form of desperate screams, with his face muscles stuck in place. He thought this was the worst but immediately proven wrong when Gloria furiously dug her thick butt into the mattress. His whole back was bending inward, and he tried to dig his neck and limbs closer before they snapped off, but there was nothing he could do about the bouncing. Like a restless child, Gloria jumped on her butt while she talked, and if it had been on a hard surface, Stool might have not survived the pummeling. Bouncing between two soft surfaces, the indestructibility of his body started to show. Her destructive ass cheeks played him like a set of bongos, but Stool felt like plastic and didn’t feel a lick of pain.

The suffocation returned when she calmed down and kept her butt still. He repositioned himself so his back was against her ass. Both his arms were doing the impossible and pushed against the weight of a chubby, mature Hispanic woman. There were no means for escape, but he did enough to create pocket of room for air.

I’ll make it out, Stool told himself.

Since the beginning of this nightmare, he’s been trying hard to keep his spirits high. He knew right away from her gentle face that Marisa wasn’t going to be a problem, which has kept him at ease. It was Diego who carried both their anxiety, and it was starting to freak him out. It wouldn’t have been an issue if he had his pipe and grinder, but he didn’t, which set his whole mind on tweak mode. He never should have suggested the bed, but he needed Diego back to normal. Neither of them was going to survive on their own. Both had to bring out their A-game to survive.

Stool gave his arms a rest and gripped the covers with his fingers. He needed to get out of this; even if he had to drag himself out. With his fingers and teeth, Stool used the covers as fixed points to pull himself out. His brown hair grazed against her sweatpants as he moved under her immense fat. She must have felt something since her ass started to dig at the mattress again. She was trying to kill an itch; little did she know that she was crushing a half-naked teenager.

After ten minutes of horizontal scaling, Gloria took the pressure off him. Stool immediately sucked in all the fresh air he could fill and tried to run away, but his legs were fatigued after ten measly steps. Suddenly, both of Gloria’s brown-pillared arms landed on either side of him, and the bed started to incline. Stool started slipping and aimed his eyes at the cause. Her butt was creaking the edge of the bed, and with her arms as support, began to scoot her entire being more towards the center. Any second, her titanic rear was about to charge him like a wild bull, completely burying him.

Stool wasn’t afraid, though. His eyes were focused on the waistline of her sweatpants and thought of a crazy idea. He could use the velocity of her scoot-in to hitch a ride towards the shelf. He wouldn’t have to suffocate under her ass anymore, but only if managed to grab her waistline. He prepared his hands as her ass started to rush him, and by his own judgement, jumped. He timed it well and gripped the fabric but wasn’t ready for the speed to knock the remaining wind out of him. He caught a quick glimpse of the pleasant afternoon outside the window. It was a nice thought to have before Gloria landed on the bed, creating an impact too strong for Stool to handle. He lost his grip and was in the midst of falling mid-air before Gloria surprised him with another mini scoot and leaving little room to dodge. The opening crack of her sweatpants swallowed him alive and trapped him in the depths of her humidity.

Stool’s face smack against the bare, heated skin of her left ass cheek, and quickly pried himself off to land on the cotton side of her sweatpants. His new prison was heating like a sauna, and he caught the first drop of her sticky butt sweat fall in his hair. He looked where he was. Just above his head was her smelly ass crack with the thin, white panty strip wedged between her monstrous cheeks. He didn’t think he was going to meet his tormentors in person, but after taking such a terrifying look, Stool made haste and climbed up towards the waistline. The opening was still there, but Gloria was getting restless again and bounced her booty all over the place. Stool did his best to endure it all, but he couldn’t climb out anymore. Being so close to the skin, his body and hair were more irritating, which made her more relentless.

She eventually kept her butt close to the covers and smothered his whole body from moving. His entire body was wedged between her ass crack, and the only thing keeping his face safe from a puckered anus was the panty strip. It smelly terribly ripe; abused from decades of horrible farts and sharts. The entire fabric masked his whole face, burning the incredible musk through his eyes. He didn’t scream in fear of choking on her dirty panties. It was impossible not to move from stiffness, and even the slightest flex would anger the giantess’ comfort and cause her to bury the problem away. Stool couldn’t breath nothing but her ass. It was the only kind of air he was forced to adapt to.

Thinking that this might be the end, hope was revived when the pressure was lifting; this time, for good.

“I miss you, Amor. Talk to you soon. Ciao.” He heard her say. It sounded like a goodbye, and the bed began creaking again. Stool felt her legs stand tall and rise from the bed. His body rose with her since he was deeply pressed against the strip and sweaty butt cheeks. He made no effort to subtly struggle himself off and down the pants leg, but from the outside came two of her long-nailed fingers. They entered through the opening and casted a shadow over his beaten form. One of her fingers kept him pinned against the strip, while the other one gently tugged it away from the crack line. She didn’t stop there. Between her dry fingers, Stool was rubbed back and forth against the strap. He tried to escape, but her fingers kept him clinging to that dirty strap against his will. She continued to play until her itch was gone, and by the time her fingers pulled back, the mini teen looked in horror at his new position.

Somehow, Gloria moved her little intruder lying on her musky panty strip, facing the depths of her anus. The tone of her skin darkened around the sinkhole, and he could see a bit of hair sticking out. The smell was unbearable; filled with the dying stench of repressed shit and spice. Stool was feeling too nauseous to contain his urge to puke, but he didn’t want to make the situation worse. Right when started to think about escape, Gloria pinched the sides of her loose panties and tugged them higher to reach her hips. In full thrust, Stool couldn’t stop the elevator ride heading straight for her anus. His arms flung forward to stop his face from being kissed, but that only caused Gloria to bring her giant index finger through the sweatpants and pushed his face deeper.

He was no match for the mom. He gagged on her trapped butt sweat and was fought his head against her anus. She had to have felt something in her butt, but the fear she might enjoyed it scared him. Was she loving the feeling? Did she not want to ruin the mystery and continue playing with the itch in her ass crack? There was a moment when she held his face right against her hole until he heard the rumbles inside her and choked on a massive fart. His eyes burned from her gases, but the scratches persisted. He had no control of his body and followed the point of her long nail dragging him up and down the crack. At this moment, his life has been reduced to a toy for this woman. Scratching a very bad itch was a pleasure in itself, but if she knew what she was doing, she would stop immediately.

But she wasn’t stopping. Not for a while at least. Her bare feet slapped against the wooden flooring, picking her ass wherever she went. Stool did nothing but wait for her hand to rest so he could catch his breath. His nose knew nothing but the scent of her bowels. He was greased up with so much ass sweat that he needed to blink fast to open his eyes. He never felt more exhausted in his entire life. It didn’t matter if he crawled up and down. Her finger stuck the panty strip firmly between her cheeks that it was flossing her crack.

Could it get any worse? He thought.

Then spanish music began blaring through a pair of speakers. The tempo was fast, and he could hear her legs stomping in rhythm. Her ass began to jiggle side to side, bouncing all around to the groove. To Stool, ten earthquakes all erupted at once and knocked him around as her speed picked up. He was smashed against her meteor-sized cheeks, and they returned the favor by slapping him silly and burying him further. The temperature was rising and caused her asshole to become even more sweaty. He wasn’t just tossed around; his body slid off her skin due to the gloss of her sweat as she danced through six songs in a row. Her panty was absorbing all her sweat that it became some disgustingly soaked hammock for Stool to lie on.

He finally gave in and rested on her wedged panty strap, wrapping himself tight in case she tried to break him apart. He lost track of time by the number of songs her bulbous booty danced to. He could smell nothing but Gloria, and before he got another forceful whiff, the music abruptly stopped, and Stool could hear a door opening.

“We need to talk.” Gloria said.

“Why?” The voice of Marisa lifted Stool’s spirits. She was back, but how was he supposed to get her help from the crack of her mom’s ass? Suddenly, he felt the familiar weight of Gloria return and smashed her fat anus hole right on top of him, releasing a small fart she thought she could conceal. Only Stool would ever know it happened.

“Want to tell me why I found an open plate of cookies in your room?” Gloria scolded.

“Mama, I—”

“I’ve told you countless times that ants can easily crawl through that window of yours. And I thought you were going to take care of your body more.”

“I’m sorry, mama…”

“Ay, mi hija…don’t be such a baby. I’m only looking out for the two of us. Now come here and hug me.”

“Yes, mama…”

Stool could hear the other side of the couch creak, and Gloria’s body leaned forward. It felt like a hug was being given, but Stool was more focused on an opportunity rising. There was a slit opening further down the panty strip. It would lead him directly between her ass and vagina, but if he acted fast, he could quickly roll to the side and slide down her leg. Pulling his arms and legs from the sweaty panties, he quietly stepped down until a slope formed and slid down it until he reached the center. It was pitch black and the fabric started to smell more vaginal. Stool couldn’t stay on his toes while Gloria began to stand up again and fix her panties. He tripped to the side of her vagina and gladly allowed his body to be smushed against her ripe musk.

If it meant getting away from her ass, this was the better compromise. It was a region he was very familiar with. Living off the skank-ish profession of eating out horny girls for weed money, this was hitting close to his old life. This was the first time he’s even been near a more mature vagina, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him off. He could feel the bulge of his cock trying to rub against her musky flesh. Through the darkness, he could envision the bottom side of her saggy lips drooping. He wondered how fast he could make her moan. She would definitely feel him if he tried, but at this size, it was suicide. She’d crush him so fast he wouldn’t get a ‘sorry’ out in time.

“I’m going to take a quick shower, then head to bed.” Gloria said.

“Bed? But it’s only seven.”

“I’m not really going to bed, but…I’ll be in my room.”

“Okay, mama.” Stool could hear Marisa’s sneakers fading away. Was he going to spend the rest of the evening with her mom? Did all those anal scratches and wedgies actually do something for her? He couldn’t imagine lasting the whole night as her toy. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she really was going to rest, which would work to his advantage. All he prayed for was an early snooze so he could finally crawl out of her panties and get back to Marisa’s room.

Gloria walked until she made a full stop, and Stool heard the toilet lid hitting its box. He figured he was in the bathroom, and felt his body descend with her dirty panties and sweatpants. The bathroom lights flooded into his eyes, and they gave him a brief blinding before he stared right under her. His damp cushion rested on the bathroom tiles, and he got a long glimpse of her hairy, naked pussy before she took her seat on the toilet. She pulled out her phone and distracted herself while the stream of piss blasted against the hollow bowl. Her farts were more frequent and expelled all that she was apparently holding back.

If only she wasn’t so clean, Stool imagined the worst-case scenario.

Both her thick, flat soles were tugging themselves off the sweatpants, and she settled her toes slightly above Stool’s face. She never pressed them down, but freely wiggled the dirt and grime caught in between. Stool didn’t try to move. Her phone was blocking her line of sight, and if he tried to escape that focus, she would surely grind him to paste. He waited until she started rubbing toilet paper against her ass and pussy lips before discarding it and flushing afterwards. Stool barely crawled to the side before her pink-nailed toes pressed deep into the panties as she stood. He watched as she pulled off her tank-top and revealed her big breasts and darkened nipples.

The tank-top dropped on his face, adding another fresh layer of stink. He couldn’t see her bending down and balling up all her clothes. Once again, he was encased in black and her bodily scents. He didn’t know what was happening, but the next thing he felt was his whole world falling. It was a long drop, and he landed softly thanks to all the smelly cushion she provided him. Then there was silence, and he didn’t feel truly safe until the sound of the shower cap turned on.

He crawled through her sweatpants and tank-top to find himself in a land of dirty laundry. It smelled like his own room; with clothes he would prolong to wash. He didn’t watch his step and slipped further down towards the bottom. There were tight-knit holes with light breaking through the basket, so he did well to navigate through day old socks and gym shorts that have been stewing in there for a while. It was one of those baskets with a woven lid that could only be opened by a human-sized person. There was no way he was going to break out on his own.

But at least he survived. He didn’t mind waiting till Gloria’s shower was over and she left him all alone in the bathroom. He didn’t care about sitting in the dark and inhaling the ripe scent of dirty underwear. His body was at its limit and rested against a black sock. He wouldn’t mind if he rested in there for the whole night. He was sucked away, trapped against a grown woman’s sweaty asshole, and lived. He wished Diego was there to high-five right now. He needed to feel like some sort of victory was won.

Stool sat there resting his back until the bathroom lights turned on again.

“Stool…?” Marisa whispered.

“Here!” Stool yelled. He didn’t care how much it strained his voice; it was for a good cause. “Marisa, here!”

It didn’t take long for the basket’s lid to open above. She searched with worried eyes, and Stool helped by waving his good arm at her. She spotted him and smiled.

He was saved.