The solution for how to hide Denver on a pair of their mom’s underwear wasn’t actually that complicated. Unsurprisingly, Heather didn’t wear thongs, although she did have a few pieces of lingerie that were made of lace. Which was the best Jackie could hope for, since it meant Denver could more easily blend in since the material wasn’t plainly textured. After he got tied into place (once again, wrapped up like a mummy), Jackie smeared a droplet of black paint across his body to ensure he’d blend in with the fabric. Between the fact that he was only a quarter inch tall, too tiny to hear, tied up to prevent any movements, was now camouflaged with the underwear, and would be on the inside anyways, Jackie was confident that there was no way their mother would notice Denver.
Unlike yesterday, Jackie didn’t want to mute all of her brother’s senses for his day with their mom. She wanted him to be able to hear everything, and see everything, but in a twist, she wanted to shake things up and cover up his nose instead of his mouth. With no other option but to open his mouth to breathe, she knew it would only be a matter of time until he accidentally tasted something. “Hey, her body will be freshly washed, so it can’t be that bad,” Jackie snickered as she finished blocking his nose, the final step of her plan.
Once Heather was in the shower, Jackie snuck into her mom’s bedroom to place the pair at the top of her underwear drawer, and then quietly rushed back to her room. Denver had to wait in the dark, tied up on the inside of a pile of his mom’s panties, until he heard the shower turn off. A few minutes later, Heather was back in her room, and the first thing she did was open up her dresser to put on a new pair of underwear. Denver hoped that she’d ruffle through the pile and pick something else, but she wasn’t that picky or complicated.
His stomach lurched as she roughly grabbed the underwear and positioned it near her knees before leaning over and sticking one of her legs through the first hole. It all happened so quick; in just a few seconds he’d gone from laying in the quiet dark to speeding through the air at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. His mom didn’t even so much as look at him as her gigantic bare legs dove right by him into the leg hole, with her other leg following right behind.
He looked skyward to see the intimate areas of his own mother looming high overhead, and the chunky ass that was about to spend the rest of the day with. Seeing his mom naked so close-up made him feel even more violated than when his sister had exposed herself to him. Because at least Jackie had known about Denver’s presence, whereas Heather hadn’t the slightest clue of her son’s bondage against the inside of her lingerie. He was like a parasite, about to get attached to his innocent mom against her will and without her knowledge.
She quickly pulled the underwear up, and in less than two seconds he’d gone from observing her from afar to getting thrust between her ass. Luckily, since Heather didn’t wear items as skimpy as Jackie’s thong, Denver didn’t get pushed right up against his mom’s anus. But Jackie had also purposefully picked out a pair of their mom’s panties that were on the smaller side (both in terms of size and coverage), which meant he was still wedged in between her colossal cheeks.
And with that, it became official. Jackie had forced her big brother to get squished against their mom’s ass. For the rest of Heather’s entire 16 hour day, she never once noticed her unfortunate son trapped between her meaty cheeks. Every time she pulled her pants up was an accidental punishment for her poor boy, sending him deeper into the canyon.
Despite being literally held against his will against someone a million times larger than him, Denver felt like Jackie had cut him off from any human contact. After enough hours of staring at it, Denver started imagining that his mom’s anus was an eye, winking at him throughout the day as it unconsciously pulsed every once in awhile. The wrinkled hole, more battered-looking than his sister’s, drilled itself into his brain from having looked at it for so long.
To add insult to injury, Jackie made sure to suggest plenty of foods throughout the day for her mom to eat, picking out ones specifically designed to not only make their mother gassy, but produce the stinkiest kinds of gas possible. Previous to Denver’s experience with her, he naively assumed that people couldn’t really taste air, especially with their nose plugged. But every fart she unleashed broke that belief down more and more. He could taste the warmth, he could taste its bitterness, he could even taste its density.
The only alleviation from the humidity was the anxious chill brought on by a thought that came to his mind: she was feeding him. He was sitting there, with his tiny mouth forcibly opened just a few relative feet away from her domineering asshole, compelled into accepting all the toxic gas she had to offer. Heather didn’t even know it, but it made her maternal nature that much stronger; he was the helpless little baby, and she was the loving mother who spoon-fed him his meals. She cooked up a helping of sour, milky farts for his breakfast, a cascade of burrito fumes for lunch, and a buffet of her signature, pollutive asparagus gas as his dinner. While the rest of his family got to enjoy the meals for what they were, he was merely handed the airy scraps, infused with all the unwanted chemicals. His stomach growled and ached for proper nourishment, but it was the decree of his little sister that he only be allowed to consume his mother’s farts for the entire day.
By the time night finally came around, Denver was convinced that two full days of inhaling dozens of hours worth of his own family’s farts had stained the inside of his lungs, like a smoker’s. He didn’t know if he was imagining it or not, or how many weeks (or months?) it would take to get rid of, but he was convinced that every time he exhaled, he could still smell the stench of their colon mixed into his breath. They had marked him. Transformed him.
When he went to sleep that night, the only thing he could think of when he closed his eyes was his mom’s asshole watching over him. Without literally any other experience throughout the day other than being imprisoned with Heather’s anus, his mind had no other events that it could reflect on like people do when they go to bed. He saw his mom’s ass, he heard his mom’s ass, and the faint taste of his mom’s ass was even on his tongue still. Even though the nights had been meant to be a reprieve for Denver, he was unable to keep from remembering every aspect of his mother’s butt. With no chance for a mental escape, he was watched over by the omnipresence of his mom and her titanic, stinking, thick and heavy ass. For the rest of his life, every time he would see his mom’s ass, he would be reminded of the time that he’d been trapped down there while she was blissfully ignorant of his plight; the most disgusting part of Heather’s body owning her son for a day. A day of torture, but a lifetime to remember it.
And that wasn’t even counting what he’d get to do with her tomorrow.