The girl that was standing above you seemed really tall, but that wasn't saying much since you were the height of a seat. She was dressed in a grey jacket and white button up shirt that stretched over and around her sizable bust, causing you to be unable to see her face. As she gracefully flipped up the rear of her grey skirt, you caught a glimpse of her frilly, white panties being pulled tight against her hips and deep into her crevasse. You were so caught up on them that you forgot the whole reason she flipped up her skirt was to plant her colossal caboose square on your face.
You were unprepared for her shockwave, as her wide hips and generously sized ass completely smothered you, smoothing out any imperfections. She'd certainly leave a mark on you, as your face indented and sculpted perfectly to her ass, each half of your face moulding to her ass while your mouth and nose buried themselves between her cheeks. With you now the perfect shape, you clung to her ass as it rippled in place. It felt like jell-o turning into more jell-o. You'd wanted to say something to her, but her weight alone made it impossible to open your lips, never mind they were probably squished together. As if to emphasize her immense weight, the chair you were pressed against groaned and shifted, threatening to collapse. She obviously didn't hear this, as she then, obliviously, ground her ass into you, shifting her weight and getting herself comfortable. You mentally groan from the strain, your body not wanting to flatten any further.
Just then, the bell rang and the girl sitting on top of you started to talk. Her voice was muffled, but since you were connected, it vibrated through her ass and into you, “Alright, settle down everyone. We have a big test today. I hope you all studied because I won't be allowing extra time.”
You mentally sighed in discontent as you figured out that you'd been placed on the teacher, Miss Mason's, chair. You remember her as a pretty hot math teacher, half because she was hot and half because Mary would sometimes ask you for help with her math homework, which always had Miss Mason's name in the corner. While she did know you, she didn't know about your condition, and you don't know how she'd react to finding you under her ass, if she recognized you at all. As you wonder how this kind of stuff always seems to happen to you, you feel her turn and pull you to the right. Her right leg extends forward under her desk, part of her thigh pressing down against you and flattening you further. She then pulls herself towards the desk computer, her weight shifting forward and crushing half of your body even more between the tan, leather swivel chair and her big butt. You mentally cry out as she concentrates her weight forward, pressing down on what would be your crotch. Unfazed and unknowing of your suffering, she types away at her computer while everyone else writes away on their test.
As the seconds ticked by, the room slowly began to heat up. This was in no small part because of the thirty-ish kids sitting in one room, but mostly from the absence of the air conditioner that'd broken the day before. You felt the temperature change first, being caught between a rock and a soft place. Miss Mason was obviously not enjoying the heat either, as she tried shifting around in her chair to fix it. She squishes and grinds her ass into you, trying to find a more comfortable seating position on top of your face, but none of her attempts seem to please her. You try to hold your own and resist her, but you're no match for her posterior's superior strength. With a sudden shift to her side, your body gives out on you and her left ass cheek lands directly on top of what would be your left eye, half your face getting crushed beneath her ass cheek. You groan as your body depresses further against the chair, your body flattening even more under her. She doesn't notice the minuscule change in height or chair cushiony-ness, but she does change her position again. She picks herself up slightly before sitting back down, seeming to taunt you with momentary freedom from her lead filled pillows, only to slam down onto you with even more weight than before. This position change sends what would be your nose and mouth deeper between her cheeks, and with the temperature change, she doesn't even notice.
Soon enough, everyone in the room has begun to sweat and squirm, Miss Mason seeming to do so the most out of anyone. You have the most (or rather, have become the most) unpleasant seat in the house. Miss Mason is silently regretting using a leather swivel chair instead of a cloth one, but since she isn't allowed to leave the class before everyone is finished or class ends, she can't swap out the chair. On top of it all, her sweat had made the chair creaky, so she couldn't move as much without interrupting the students. She wiped her forehead and thought to herself, ‘The next chance that I get, I'm trading chairs with some other teacher. This one is unbearable!’
Meanwhile, you can feel her sweat running along your body. Some of it rolls down her cheek, along you, and onto the chair, while some fall between her cheeks. This sweat had awakened the smells from further within her crevice, and you had a front row seat to it. You try to pull away from the smell of shit and rotten eggs, but your body doesn't respond to you. You fiercely try to retract your nose, wiggle beneath her, anything to stop the smells, but it doesn't work. You know what that means, and you pray to any god that're listening that it doesn't happen. But, sure enough, you feel sweat not coming from the teacher's ass, but from you. You're melting.
Your body slowly begin to liquify underneath Miss Mason. Luckily enough for you, since your nose and mouth are the hottest, they melt first, freeing part of you from a nightmare while simultaneously starting a new one. As you melt, the teacher slightly sinks in her chair again, but she's so distracted by the heat and her emails, that she doesn't notice the slowly pooling puddle under her ass or the slight bit of cheating in the background. Your body pools around and between her cheeks, none of you managing to spill onto the floor, for what that's worth.
Then, with a triumphant button press, the Miss Mason sent the last email and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She looked at the clock, only to realize that there was still fifteen minutes left of class. She looked around her desk for something to alleviate the heat, but she'd left her paper fan at home, and all the papers on her desk were important. Then, she looked down at her lap. ‘Of course,’ she thought, ‘I could use my skirt as a makeshift fan for my whole body. I should probably be subtle, though. I don't want the kids seeing anything.’
Meanwhile, your body had completely liquified at this point, draining entirely into Miss Masons' peach coloured valley, her closed thighs forming a sort of reservoir. You were grateful that you didn't spill on the floor and that your sense of smell had stopped working, but you were still stuck between her ass cheeks. You knew that it'd take a miracle for her not to find you, and a miracle of sorts would happen. From your vantage point of inside Miss Mason's soft, peachy cave, you heard a quiet echo of flapping around you. You blinked and adjusted your eyes, the light being hard to adjust to. Opening your eyes, you saw the back of the chair covered in sunlight, framed by Miss Mason's Mountains. You didn't know why, but this view was calming and relaxing to you. But, because you're so absorbed by Miss Mason's skirt dance, you don't notice what your body is being absorbed into...
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