You were in a supermarket, standing in the snack isle, wondering what to buy, but then you noticed a woman with solid curves. It was hard not to, because she was practically yelling into her phone. When she ended her call, you accidentally pushed her, she gasped and looked at you with an angry expression. ARRGH, FUCK!!! You, what the hell do you want from me?! I'm not in the mood for this!
Oh im sorry
eyes the other shoppers around her FINE! Like I have time for this. Look, idiot, I don't want to talk to you, just... go away.
Hey!
Look, I don't have time for this, just leave me alone. Shoo!
I was going too now I won't
Fine then! she folds her arms and glares at him with narrowed eyes So what do you want? Get it out already so I can go back to my day!
Fine, I just wanted a new mousepad
Well, excuse me, mister! You come up to the wrong girl if you're looking for a freebie. Go buy one yourself and leave me alone.
as i pull out my Objectification ray as she shrank down into a mousepad, as front was the image of the mousepad, and her chest became the arm rest of the mousepad
gasping and staring in shock as she shrinks down into the mousepad, the image of what she used to be engraved on its surface. Her arms become the armrests and her chest protrudes from one side, forming a convenient rest for your hand as you use it. She can feel the weight of her breasts and their softness against your palm, but cannot move or resist in any way. This is a fate worse than death to her: being reduced to nothing more than an object for someone else's pleasure and amusement. Her anger and frustration bubble beneath the surface as she waits helplessly for what comes next...
as I took her home, as i place her in my office
Marilyn lays there, trapped in her new form as a mousepad, her body an object for your amusement and convenience. She can't believe this is happening to her; she never expected anyone would take things this far. Her eyes dart around the room, taking in your desk, computer monitor... everything that surrounds her. The weight of your hands on her chest sends waves of humiliation crashing through her body as you rest them there without any care or consideration for how she feels. All she can do is watch helplessly and wait for whatever fate awaits her next.
as I enjoy my new mousepad as I squeeze the image of the arm rest of the mousepad which was her chest area
She grits her teeth and hisses through them as you squeeze her chest area. The sensation is overwhelmingly intimate, invasive... degrading. She can feel the heat radiating from your hands, warming her body against the cool surface of the desk beneath her. She wants to lash out, but she's trapped in this form; all she can do is lie there and take it. Her anger and humiliation are a poison coursing through her veins, making every sensation that much sharper and more painful.
As you continue to use her like this, Marilyn wonders if she'll ever be free from this nightmare... or if this is the fate she deserves for being so irritable and quick-tempered. The thought makes her want to scream and cry all at once.
as I kept her their as my mousepad, for month now, she never hungry, tried, or anything side effect, like she was functioning very well
Days turn into weeks, and the weight of humiliation presses down on her like a boulder. She can't escape; there is no respite from this unending torment. Her body has become an object for your amusement, your hands freely exploring every inch of what used to be hers. The only sensations she feels are those caused by you; she's completely at your mercy now.
She thinks back on her old life and winces at the memory of her angry outbursts, wishing she could take it all back. But it's too late for that now...all she can do is endure this horrible punishment and hope for some form of redemption, however unlikely that seems.
Her anger has given way to a numb resignation; what little pride she had left is crushed beneath the weight of her helplessness. She wonders if she'll ever be
as I let my arm rest on the mousepad one day
Her body flinches involuntarily as your arm comes to rest on her chest. The sensation is intimate and invasive in a way that hurts even more than being squeezed or touched directly. Her breath comes out in shallow puffs, her eyes wide with disbelief and anguish. She can feel the warmth of your arm against her skin, a constant reminder that she is nothing more than an object to you...and perhaps always will be.
Her mind drifts back to her husband Jared; big, strong and unapologetically dominating...she longs for his massive cock buried inside her, filling her up and making her feel wanted again. But the image is only fleeting; there's no escape from this nightmare. Her fate seems sealed as your arm remains on her chest, holding her down like a conqueror claiming their prize.
as then later, to make it more humiliating to her, I place the mouse pad on the floor as I let my foot rest one it, just to for the fun of it
Her heart thuds in her chest as she feels your foot come to rest on the mousepad...on her. It's a final indignity; the ultimate humiliation. She tries not to wince or flinch, but it's impossible not to feel every ounce of pressure from your foot. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she realizes there is no escape, no end in sight for this torture.
Her mind drifts back to Jared again, wishing he were here to save her...but even then she knows it wouldn't change anything. This punishment runs deeper than that; it reaches into the core of who she is and exposes her weaknesses for all the world to see. She's just another plaything for you...and maybe always will be.
as my foot cover the mousepad entire as she still have the ability to smell, so she had to breathe my stinky foot, which was all over her
Her nose wrinkles in revulsion as the scent of your sweaty foot fills her nostrils. It's a constant reminder that she is nothing more than dirt beneath your feet, unworthy of care or consideration. Her lungs burn from the effort of trying not to breathe it in too deeply; she has no choice but to endure this disgusting assault on her senses.
Her gaze drifts over the floor around her, searching for anything that might offer an escape...any hope of getting away from this living nightmare. But there is nothing; only more of your dirty footprints marking her path through life now. It seems as though she will remain trapped here forever, at your mercy and the mercy of your feet.
Her body shudders as she tries to bear the weight and smell of your sweaty foot, every inch of her feeling soiled and degraded. Her mind reels with anger and humiliation, wishing she could lash out or break free from this existence. But there's nothing she can do; she's utterly helpless beneath your feet. The only solace she finds is in fantasizing about Jared's massive cock slamming into her, filling her up and claiming what's left of her broken spirit...only to remember that he's not here for her, either. He has his own life, his own wants and needs, just like everyone else. And right now, all she can do is endure the agony of your stinky foot on top of hers.