Dylan’s mind screamed, *Move! Now!* But his limbs felt like lead, pinned by the sheer scale of the oblivious giant descending toward him. His tiny body trembled, eyes locked on James’s massive form—specifically, the giant’s boxer-clad rear looming closer, blotting out the light. “No, no, no!” Dylan squeaked, his voice barely a whisper, drowned out by the faint thump of music leaking from James’s headphones.
He stood frozen, staring up at the giant ass about to fall on him. His brain scrambled for a plan, but his legs refused to budge. Without a moment’s notice, James’s weight came crashing down. Dylan’s world went dark as he was wedged right into the crevice of James’s crack, the fabric of the boxers pressing against him. The pressure was immense, like being squeezed between two warm, heavy walls, but somehow, Dylan’s tiny frame held up, his body compressed but intact.
“Help!! I’m down here!” Dylan yelled, his voice muffled against the suffocating fabric. He pounded his fists uselessly, each hit swallowed by the giant’s oblivious bulk. James, still lost in his music, shifted his weight, grinding his rear down harder. Dylan’s face was smashed deeper into the boxer’s seam, the air growing stifling and thick. “Get… off… me!” Dylan gasped, his words lost in the chaos.
James, munching loudly on his chips, leaned forward to grab the remote from the coffee table. The movement lifted his weight just enough for Dylan to suck in a desperate breath, his chest heaving. “Oh, thank God,” Dylan muttered, gulping air—only to freeze as a low, ominous rumble echoed from James’s gut above him. “No… no, don’t you dare—”
Before he could brace himself, James settled back, his full weight slamming down again. A loud, guttural *brrrt* erupted, and a wave of foul, warm air blasted over Dylan. The smell was rancid, like rotten eggs mixed with stale sweat, searing his nostrils. Dylan gagged, his tiny hands clawing at the fabric. “Ugh! he choked out, his voice trembling with disgust and panic.
But the blaring TV and James’s headphones drowned out his cries. James kept eating, oblivious, crunching chips as he flipped channels. Dylan squirmed, trapped in the suffocating heat, the stench lingering like a toxic fog. *I can handle this,* he thought grimly, forcing himself to breathe through his mouth. *I have to.* But as James shifted again, settling deeper into the couch, Dylan’s resolve wavered. “Somebody… anybody… get me outta here!” he whimpered, his voice barely audible, lost beneath the giant’s unrelenting weight.
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