Ass-istant Sam, Rigmarole


Written By Septia.


A supple darkness, and the velvet air of boak wood and varnishing oils confined him. Come the morning hours Sam had gotten accustomed to the clothes drawer: the laundry was fresh, the dark let him drift off, and a sensation of belonging was settling in the 'fibers' of his – currently underwear-shaped – body. A sensation that Sam fought against once dawn had granted him consciousness once more. He'd been left struggling with these sensations in silence for what felt like hours. Until just a few moments ago, when the outside had begun to stir. 
	“Haaaawwmnf…” 
	First just a yawn, along with the tension and slackening of metal springs. Thuds thread across the floor outside. Running water, scrubbing, gargling… morning sounds. He could imagine himself back home: A weekend morning, Sabra woke up before him… and the muffled noises passing through was not because she was simply in the other room, rather than the current predicament of being trapped in a cabinet. It was comforting to think that.


Soon enough, though, the tremors would make their way over to him. His world shook as the drawer slammed open, exposing him to a wall of light, obscured by the contours of a woman, reaching for him.
	The pinch of thumb and forefingers pinned Sam on wide display for Lina to scrutinize. Thumbing into his fabric to feel out his texture, stretching him out to test his elasticity. A sense of water and oil pinched into him from her grasp; if she had just washed up, then it hadn't been thorough. 
	Sam looked at Lina, attempting to convey his situation with a face frozen by fabric a lack of mouth. He really did just look like a pair of, fairly high grade, goofy print panties… Ally had really put him in an unfavorable position… and all because of him being implicated in an act he had no agency over. 
	Lina's expression was a bit difficult to judge. Without her glasses she was squinting to make out Sam, this along with her charcoal blue hair hanging down to frame her ashen pale face, all this gave Lina an aura of innocence. Laid bare, fresh from slumber, in the comfort of her own bedroom. 
	Once given some time to contemplate her face, Sam's attention was drawn by the iron grip of Lina's raw attraction: Her body laid sculpted in a manner hooking his gaze in, to wander an epic journey along the untold expanses of curves across her manifestation. More than attraction, Lina radiated a sheer gravity… Sam had in his days become, acquainted with a lot of girls on the heftier side – A few more than he had wished for – though Lina was a class of her own. Her stomach was plump and jutted out round and perky, playfully hiding under the embrace of the melons bounding free from her torso in a weighty dune of fat. To say her hips were massive was an understatement, those drumstick-thick thighs sloughing out of her silhouette to give off the impression of a square by themselves. Thin ripples arched across the thighs as she shuffled in place; the ripples of her motions were wide, but whipping past so quick along the highways of taut feminine bulk. Her ashen skin gave her the impression of a paper figure, cut with as wide a margin as the sheet allowed. Lina was adorned with the kind of plush padding that didn't ask ‘if’ it could smother someone, but rather how many they could smother at once…
	Lina flashed a smile, “You pass~,” she mused. 
	For an instant emotions erupted inside of Sam: the acolyte granted permission to enter a sacred temple of worship. Except the temple in question was Lina's body. Her words instilled this honour. Yet, as he was lowered down her frame, feeling her thread in her legs through his form, he was reminded of the nickname Lina had given her own ass before she'd found him at the clothing store: The Grindstone. 
	Sam felt his malleable fabric start to meet resistance up Lina's frame -Cthhhnng- Stretching under the blossoming girth of her thighs, digging into her soft skin while she had his far ends hooked securely under her thumbs. Droplets of water dribbled down the overhang of blubber on the thighs right above his hemline, trickling down across his frame with a tint of musk interspersed within. She smelled of ground-up tangerine seed: a tinge of comfort and familiarity shrouding the strange odour… After a night of being left alone,the barging weight of her fair skin strained his senses. Crawling up her thighs at a pace that he could never fully adjust to the girth, leaving him bulldozing into her pudge with a fair muffin top cresting his hem. Frame stretching, sprawling out wider and wider. He surpassed the zenith of her thighs, and begun to dip inwards, to the crevices, segmenting her legs from her torso, sinking in over her hind, squeezed by pressure from all around him by the magnitude of Lina's stacked thighs and ass… 
	“And huuup,” she mouthed, hoisting Sam's brim up over her navel, letting the underside of the Sam-ties slot into place at her crotch with a clap of a cutlet dropped on glass -Dtllcllllttnng-, and released his hems to bury in the canyons of soft meat -Cltlthhngns-. 
	Sam's world shook and vibrated as he was clapped into the role of Lina's panties. Shaking as his surroundings trembled from the ripples of his intrusion. The mountains of blubber rising around him and straining out his backside with the truckload of heiney he sprawled over. Then came another hurdle, her backend… protruding with defiance out from the back of her thighs in a bold intention to contour, the thick rump started to stretch Sam thin. The more pressure she forced raising him up, the more of the avalanche of ass barrelled down into the confines of his warping skin… contorting and building under him as she loaded him with luscious lard, and Sam was made to accept the falling folds of fat…
	Lodged with his face plunged into her lap, the mountainous thighs clamped over him. He got glimpses of light as Lina walked, putting on the same suit he'd seen her wear yesterday… a veil of blackness in supple Laytex, closing up around her chub… If Lina's body was a temple, then it was to be his cage. 


~ 1 ~


Lina took a deep breath, adjusted her headphones, and triggered her stream's opening transition. Entering her stream with a melodic, sultry tune to her voice, dripping with implications as it played with each syllable: “Howdee~. Welcome to Lina Smith's smithy, a lil' forge for one big gal. So, hope you don't mind, I'd offer an apology for how, mm, c-cramped it is it is to join…” Lina mused as she leaned back in her cozy seat, making a show out of gyrating her hips down the cushion. 
	Sam felt the pressure rise in waves around him, grinding him down to be sandwiched between skin and laytex. The broader patches of her skin remained clean, though in a rubber suit the stains of hard work lingered. His face and body were crammed with the salty tang of a stagnating workout. And the gyrations kneaded him back deeper, grabbed up in the clefts and recesses of her frame where grime held up to avoid a quick wash… A syrupy squeal came from deposits of old funk gumming in into him from the bottom of Lina's canyons -Chrlrlrlptghnnnsh- A similar crack and crinkle to when you'd pull off soaked socks after a busy day out in the peak of summer… Only Sam was the foot, and this sock wasn't coming off anytime too soon -Shhfgllptsh-. 
	“But, getting mighty intimate of a bundling with the admission for all you boysangoirls. So many of you here, I'd already, have to be careful where I swing mah thing, or I'll have to spend all day tomorrow patching up the 'you' shaped imprints on mah walls~.” Lina used with her chat that responded in eagerness.
		Live Chat
		“Reporting for smithin' duty.” 
		“Hey Lina.”
		“First stream I caught live~.”
		“The beloved is here.”
		“Goddess Lina Graces us with her presence.” 
	“Oh yeah, mah presence can be a lot to take in, huh?” she said and leaned back, toying with the zipper resting at the peak of her chest, giving a small window to her cleavage. The zipper balancing on the zenith of her butt, threatening to roll over the edge and let the twins bound free. 
	Massaged in the center of the dank mirth of soapy flesh mixed with tanned rubber and salty jerky, laid poor Sam. He was mashed into to the seat once more, the weight of her body combining across him, struggling at his fabrics… Where usually tension could be released by his naturally elastic and malleable body, being stuck and imprinted with the Bhuj formula left him stiffer, the weight of her rear kneading him out under he chair strumming back and forth through his body. He was less clay, and more a weave of rubber bands echoing the roiling tension of congested meat. 
	“Ah, well aren't you all just a' stale bunch? Come now, I'll get the furnace going and warm you all up together, hmm? Howsaboutit? First, had to head out on another panty raid yesterday,” Lina said as she adjusted herself forwards and prepared to move over to the game they had lined up for the morning. “Oh, what ever could the matter be, chat? Don't tell me… you've all went and gon’ dull on me? Can't have that… Come now, ye poor, dull sods, and report… to the grindstone~.” Lina hoisted herself out of the chair, turning till her black-clad hind laid on display. She raised up a sheet of plexiglass fitted in a notch on her table. She let her hind inch closer and closer to the blank surface. “Ready back there~?” 
	Sam was practically buoyant once Lina rose he jiggled along with the motions of her rear, feeling his back more exposed as she bent over, folding his front taut into her crotch, until… He was thrust and pummel of pressure clapping into him, flattening his texture firmly over the breadth of Lina's ass as it was pinned flat with the with a tremor golem's footstep tudding down -Dddthhhnnnddddtwp- Sam was overcome with a salvo of kneads.


Lina squeezed her laytex-covered hind against the transparent pane, letting her massive dumptruck come to a flat, grinding halt bunched up against the flat surface. The plump, voluptuous hams having their curvature interrupted into a taut pair of flat ovals clapping into the glass. The pane framing the magnitude of her ass, and still having droves of fat bound over the edges of the window and swell up like dollops of dough around the rectangle.
	“Might have ta put up a new goal for a bigger grind window. Everyone out there, you dull lil’ things, line up for the grindstone. I want your sorry butts sharp and attentive for mah stream now. I ain't letting my ass go off-screen before every single, one of you's sharpened up to the task, alright, just, fmmsmg, get in there~,” she mused, letting her gyrating hind toy with the pane and her audience alike. “That, oooo, ought to do it,” she said and bumped the hind back into the pane one last time. “Y'all warmed up? Then we gotta strike that iron. And we've got a treat to play today…” Lina mused as she slumped back into her seat with a fat -Sqppllsch- clench of battered meat, directing her fans to the game. 
	Sam was barely allowed a moment to breathe before she was back on her ass, and it didn't seem like she'd be moving, now Lina was saddling in for the long haul. 


~ 2 ~


Over the course of the stream Sam was put through the ordeal of feeling the clean and delicate skin gradually mature in musk. Sam was left baking in the the clutches of her lap with the growing condensation of body odor invading his senses. Every quarter-hour or so when Lina would adjust herself in her seat he would get a tactile reminder of the building humidity, the squall of sweaty flesh growing moist -Vrrgllssh- and humid -Chhrrllptsh- and then wet -Kpluurstcch-, steaming in her enclosed smokehouse of lard and jerky cured with her own musk. All this whilst Lina yammered away with chat. 
	“Better be catchin' you all hydrating,” she called out. 
	To which Sam was only soaked in the freshly mixed brine percolating underneath Lina's suit. And saltwater did little to service his own hydration… 


Lina panted to herself, wiping some sweat off of her brow. Starting to feel worn out. She glanced at the time, she'd passed the six hour mark a good while back… “Time be thine and mine cruel mistress alike,” she announced to the audience.
	Throught he haze of developing body odour, Sam heard Lina talk about rounding off the stream. He focused his will towards her, sending thoughts of changing into clean clothes for the afternoon. It would be his one possibility of relief and a promise of cool air. 
	“I'll be taking this stream, back to the deep tin in my smithy, back in the forge~,” she said with lust drooling down her words. “Ooh I know chat, I trust everyone watching me is above age, but, can't be too sure. We will bring the next portion of the stream, over to Purple Door. Where pretence is discarded, an' I can share, all of mahself, without worry. You'll all see me in the forge, letting loose some steam, buh bye~,” she waved goodbye to the camera with a sly wink. 


The stream went down. Lina sighed. “Boy, do I need it. Cooking in this thing~,” she mused and shifted herself down, adjusting the back of the chair to fold down into a relaxed pose. Dragging her wireless mouse along the armrest she started up the stream again, on the more, adult centered site Purple Door. Seeing the viewers trickling in, she moistened her lips. “If it isn't mah sharp lil' boysengirls, today got quite steamy, huh? I'm all worked up, white-hot…,” she mused and flipped a latch under the zipper clutching back her chest. -Zrrrtspsh- The metal latch sprinted down her form, breasts ballooning out of her suit and parting the sea of laytex, her belly peeking up through the cleft of dark rubber, the clasp reaching all the way down to her crotch. She played with the zipper against her Sam-ties, scrubbing into it and covering it with her palms, bit by bit revealing her crotch, shifting up to let her pussy press through Sam and protrude in the silhouette of her snatch. 
	Sam shuddered as she caressed him, plastering him to the form of her honeypot, dipping a finger against him, grinding it up and tracing her snatch. She rubbed, gently, but rolling her knuckle to dip down his fabric and grind against her sex. 
	“Gosh, you wouldn't believe, how hanging out with all of you, my sharp lil apprentices, gets me worked up. Me and mah, fat, thick ass,” Lina mused as he swatted against the laytex cocoon still wrapped around her hind. “Could I use your support, just to offload some of the strain of carrying this body around all day? Mmfs, if you're strong enough… you won't even be squashed flat under my ass, you are all strong boysengirls, aren't cha?” she teased, zooming in with a remote, and shuffling in the seat to get her crotch in the shot. 
	Sam laid covered under her eager fingers playing the boarders of her pussy like a violin, but could feel the excitement building, the sticky tones of whey musk from the streamer combining with the ocean-brine of her damp flower.
		Live Chat
		“So hot.”
		“Hot as balls.”
		“Work it Lina, no one works the 'forge' as hard as you.”
		“This is strangely relaxing?”
		“Oh no my goddess, don't pancake me under your juicy ass~.” 
	Sam saw the chat scroll by, all reverent of the show Lina was putting on, whilst he soaked in sweat and lust, grinded and tugged around her hips. Would he be like them, if he was just an observer? Instead of condemned to the trenches of the mountain range of glutenous curves known as Lina Smith? It was harder to enjoy the sights, when you were reduced to an implement of the show, a prop, and judging by her ass's nickname, perhaps not for many more of these performances… 
	“MmmmOOooooo there, right, there…,” Lina wheezed, gasping between words to stifle her breath as she plowed her digits down into the Sam-ties and into her folds, her hips bucking upwards to her hand, riding the waves of pleasure washing through her body, whilst Sam grew damp, matte and dripping with the tangy fragrance of her sex. Its mellow taint warped and filtered through the oozing, preserved sweat welling up from around the opened suit. The little breath Sam was deigned still passing through the atmosphere of funk wafting off her frame… and laid on display for an ever adoring audience, that couldn't care less for him… besides, maybe the curiosity, of seeing how hard she'd grind him down… 


~ 3 ~


“See y'all at the donothon, and, and try to stay sharp even until then, right? Or you'll know what you'll have to make me do~.” 
		Live Chat
		“o/”
		“Don’t gooooo”
		“Till next time.”
		“Kinda late, did I miss anything?”	
		“Bye bye.”
The stream shut down. And Lina leaned back; a pale white body partially welling out of her black laytex suit, a crab bursting through its molt. “Bunch of horndogs~,” she mused, brushing down her frame, as pride welled up in her voice, “mah horndogs…~”


“Heey, are you done in there, or what?” 
	Lina's gaze lingered on he door. “Who wants to know?” 
	“Someone tired of chat hogging my girl~.” The sweet voice teased as the door began to open. 
	Sam… recognized that voice… But, it couldn't… 


Yanamai swayed the door wide open, sauntering in on the pile of girl chub and rubber that she adored. “Aww, already had your fun for the day? You look like a spread piece of toast down there~.” 
	“And what, you're going to dress me up in butter, you fancy chef of compliments?” Lina mused back. 
	Mai snickered and leaned over Lina's body. She was a modestly plump subject in her own right, but she looked quaint in comparison to the curvaceous mattress of a girl beneath. Reaching back behind Lina’s head and puckering up her lips. “Was thinking… more in the manner of a sloppy street toast slinger~.” 
	Their lips joined, Yanamai's vigor fed into her lover through their embrace, tongues entangling in a well practised dance routine.
	Once Lina could get a word in, she nuzzled up her head, cheek to cheek with her sultry assailant. “Too brazen, sugar, can't just come bargin' in. Might've still been on the air~.” 
	“Could just say I'm your hired hussie, they'd believe it. You know they would, they'd eat out of your ass if they got the chance.” 
	“So brazen,” Lina mumbled, “so bold.” another kiss. Longer, pressing and grinding their bodies together. Mai letting her hand wander, cupping chub, petting her belly, sliding down that canyons of a thigh gap and…that…feeling… She prodded harder… That, fleshy texture, but, not quite fleshy… Like kneading putty but, supple. She grasped it. 
	“Sugar, you want to dive that deep so soon? Iron's still hot, don't mind, cramming into bed, would you~?” 
	Mai turned to face Lina, hastily torching the perplexedness plastered on her face in another kiss. “While the forge is still chugging, yeah~,” she mused. 
	“Let me help,” brushing over their head, Mai discarded her sweat matted clothes, and while staying near the edge of the bed, brushed down her partner's legs, helping her out of her underwear… and… yes… As she slid that familiar texture down her lover's ample thighs… she recognised the face staring back at her. Yanamai smirked at the sight of the sweat and lust soaked fabric, bearing her teeth in a full grin. Usually, it would be awkward to meet your ex right on your current partner… This, proved one of those rare exceptions…