Once she reaches the toilet, a utilitarian ceramic bowl that can only be described as imposing from your vantage point.
Grace lifts you to her face, and smiles with a measure of sadness. "I'm so sorry about this, Todd, I really am. But I just can't risk letting you out of my sight, not for a single second. You've seen how quickly my life can be turned upside down. If I let you go, even for a second, and you get taken from me..." She chokes up a bit. "Well, I don't know what I'd do."
The girl's hand moves downward, dragging you with it, to the hem of her pants, where her hand begins to unzip them. The two gargantuan fingers pull down her zipper to reveal her underpants, a simple pair of white panties.t.
She then begins to pull her pants downward, and as you are attached to her wrist, your body goes along with the motions. From the intimate position of being stuck on her wrist, you're given a very close view of her legs. Although they might appear meaty to others, in your shrunken state, they are colossal columns, tanned and firm from much activity out in the sun, with the occasional freckle.
But it's not long until you're once more pulled, this time up, and you pass by the smooth landscape of her legs before the process begins again with her underwear.
All too swiftly, the garment reaches to below her knees, and her giant fingers grasp the hem of her panties, bringing them down just as her pants had gone. A jarring moment follows, where Grace's fingers catch on her hips, and are yanked downward with a jerk. From the perspective of her wrist, you're offered a close up of the contours and curves of her waist, before the underpants drop down to meet the pants at her ankles. All the while, Grace's blushing face watches you closely, no doubt on the lookout for any amorous expression crossing your face.
"You're not looking, right?" she asks, nervousness causing her to speak at a higher pitch than normal.
"I'm not looking!" you say. "I don't want to look, I promise!"
Suddenly, a new pressure covers you - it's the hand of Grace, blanketing you and covering you entirely. Even though you told the truth, and had no desire to watch her do what nature commands, she has still made the decision to keep you covered until she was finished
Thus safely shielded from witnessing any embarrassment, Grace moves to seat herself upon the toilet, a soft whump accompanying the flesh-on-ceramic action of her descending buttocks. Her hand lifts from your body, leaving you in plain view once more, though you are now facing away from her, towards the exit to the room, the closed door a constant reminder of the perilous escape that you will no doubt need to undergo if you are to avoid becoming the mobile plaything of a girl's burgeoning teen lusts.
"Shit!" Grace shouts. "I could've just rolled down my sleeve and put you back in there!"
Despite your resolve to stay dignified in this awkward situation, you cannot help but laugh. Your hysterical guffaws echo about the tiled walls, a relief from the pressure that has built within you from the day's harrowing events, and they are quickly joined by Grace's chuckles.
"Oh my god," she says. "I'm so stupid."
Almost as soon as her giggles subside, the girl rolls her sleeve down to cover your body once more. Now totally encapsulated by the layers of fabric that made up her shirt and the wrist bracelet, you feel far more comfortable and at peace than you would ever admit out loud.
A noise brings you back from the daydream you were escaping into.
From the narrow confines of her shirt sleeve, you listen to the soft trickle of Grace's urine as it lands in the toilet, as well as her sigh of relief. The stream rises in volume, and you cannot help but imagine the sheer, endless torrents that must be pouring forth from her womanhood. In your mind's eye, you see her hairless vagina, clenching and unclenching to aid its actions. You shut your eyes, hoping to squeeze out the picture, but to no avail - it remains stark in your mind.
Finally, the stream tapers off, leaving only the quiet sound of running water and her satisfied breathing. It isn't long, however, before another noise erupts. It's a quiet, plosive sound, and you do not realise until several seconds after that it is a fart. Shortly thereafter, a squelching is heard, followed by more of the explosive flatulence.
"Seriously, Grace?!"
Your muffled exclamation, softened as it is by the thick fabric covering her wrist, still manages to make her blush. Thankfully, she keeps her comments to herself, and you do the same.
Of course, Grace does have to do her business, and it is not long before she begins to do so. Muffled grunts escape her mouth, and then a squelching fart cuts loose, the rumbling within her belly creating a long, droning sound. From the distant echo it causes in the toilet, a foul log must have dropped, and then another, and a third, splashing in the water below. With the acoustics in the room being what they are, you are provided a constant description of events, from the plops and the splashes of water, to the smell that is wafting to your nostrils even through the material of her shirt.
"Nearly finished!" Grace assures you, a deep flush colouring her face - one you cannot see, but can well imagine!
No other comment comes from you, the fear of saying something incriminating too great. For a few moments, the bathroom is quiet, with only the occasional fart or grunt to break the silence, until it seems she is finally done.
Now, there's no escaping from the fact that, in order for her to wipe herself, her hand will need to approach the area in question, taking you along for the ride. One more time, her arm raises, and her hand appears before you, hovering in mid-air as her fingers reach for the toilet paper.
From the shelter of the sleeve, you peer out, spotting the vast bulk of the toilet paper roll. That single piece of soft material is enough to blot out the rest of the world to your eyes. Her fingers delicately grasp the end of the sheet, and tug to release the paper.
With the paper firmly in her grasp, the colossal hand of Grace lowers, the arm to which it is attached swinging, bringing you along for the ride. Soon, you are a scant few inches away from her pussy, and the girl wipes it gently. While you cannot see much from where you are, you can well imagine what her vaginal area looks like. Still, this proves to not be a problem, as her arm then lifts above to bring her hand behind her, where she wipes her anus. Now, you're only inches from the pungent hole, and you get a very clear view of her asshole.
From this proximity, the foul orifice before your eyes is more disgusting than you would have ever thought possible. Brown sludge still coats its circumference, and the strong odor that arises from the deep recesses of that chute brings tears to your eyes. Worst of all, as her fingers tug another length of toilet paper, and press that soft material to that disgusting hole, you are close enough to observe tiny grains of toilet paper that become lodged in her anal folds. The whole process is gross, and your head spins at the sensation, although the movements of Grace's arm, carrying you to and fro, cannot be helping the matter.
At the worst possible moment, you feel yourself begin to slip out of the wrist bracelet that has bound you. You scrabble and claw at the material, but the struggle is futile, and you watch in horror as you slip from the accessory.
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