Certain death didn’t come right at her word’s command, but the fact that I wasn’t immediately eaten or sat on only meant that she was the creative type; not that ‘death by rhino butt’ was a broad realm of possibilities to calculate, but through the way she glistened her lips, I could tell that she was fighting to contain a few fluids at the many, many she had in mind.
Then, in movements I’d only think possibly if one’s bones were made of gelatin, she swiveled her legs about and capsized from her laid position so she was seated with her backside towards me, her nubby hands burrowing underneath her panties and snapping them apart at their very crux, what little slimming effect their black color may have possessed deleted entirely. This was it. Cow ass, zebra ass, hippo ass, the answer to the eternal question of which posterior-related oblivion the resort may have in store for me was being answered in the form of four stories words of rhino booty, with what were now certified to be my final breaths damp with the musk of air that reverberated off her buttocks’ hide.
With her asscheeks enabled to breathe, Delilah allowed my existence to prolong a little while further to caress herself, kneading upon their sheen with a contented grunt before her hands dove upon me, teeth opening through me as she carried me up to the butt of her tail. Rather than subject myself to the darkness of her cavernous behind, I screwed my eyes shut, refusing to let them open until the silence of death came over me...
Whap!
...but my eyes bugged out in pain as my wrists were arms were forcibly stretched apart, an accompanying snap of rubber following after as I was smacked back-first into the very tip of her asscrack, bound in place with the lace of her panties tied around my wrists.
“Mmmmm...” Delilah hummed to herself, the bed’s frame groaning in relief as she rolled off, planting her fat feet on the floor. Her back to a nearby beauty mirror, she bent over to grab the remaining strap or tie around my ankles, and with a churning of her mammoth thighs, I was gradually sucked into the flesh of her asscrack until she was once again ‘clothed,’ albeit with my painfully stretched body visible by a single tuft at the point her asscrack.
She tested a few steps, her legs kneading my body around and earning a few winces and yelps of pain from my person, but any concern for my skeletal integrity wasn’t apparent by the satisfied grin she was sporting.
“All seventy-five feet of me...” She echoed. “And you know, some say that fashion is also the language of class? The very first words of impression on who somebody truly is?”
“So I take is this fashion-ese for ‘I’ll torture you on the rack if we break up?’” I snarked, but let out a yelp a few octaves higher when Delilah’s panties tightened up, even though she wasn’t moving an inch. Instead, her ass was rising, Iike bread dough, absorbing more of what little could still feel the air...she was growing?
“Ah, yes, I see you’ve noticed I’ve had a bit of a full meal a while ago.” She elaborated, noticing my increased agony whilst she navigated through her closet, peeling through several articles of dress ware before settling on a red dinner dress, which she unveiled and proceeded to pull over her arms.
Forcing her legs into required a while of straining to force their girths inside, on top of reaching around her expansive backside to feed the zippers’ ends together, but getting herself dressed gave me some relief thanks to an open slit that ran along the roof of her behind, her pride to her widest asset likely too large to keep her from being to fancy for it to be somewhat visible, if enough for me to see and breathe.
“And while I’m no doubt certain that you’re eager to see me waltz around free and nude, dear, I’d ask you to keep me clothed. I’m not one to take humiliation well...” She warned, opening her make-up case to begin touching herself up for the night, but followed with a crooked grin that scared me off the prospect of letting go than if she’d came out and threatened to kill me...