Armin adjusted his posture slowly, relaxing into the chair with a low sigh of satisfaction. The room was quiet save for the soft creak of wood and the barely audible rustle of cloth against the cushioned seat. He let his full weight settle downward, the sensation beneath him still shifting slightly.
He tilted his head, smiling.
“I can still feel you squirming, Annie… You really do deserve that 4th spot”
he said aloud, voice edged with an almost fond mockery.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees, but never letting the pressure off. “Sasha and Christa were already gone by this point” he said, his eyes narrowing, thoughtful. “ They gave out so much faster….”
The grin that followed didn’t reach his eyes.
“I wonder…” His voice trailed off before the smile curved deeper. “I wonder how much it will take?”
Annie’s form, nearly flattened under the oppressive weight, twitched faintly. An unconscious spasm of survival more than strength. Her body was pinned between cloth and chair, lungs starved of air, bones groaning under pressure.
Armin rolled his hips forward slightly. “Let’s see how you handle this.”
He began to grind his weight down, slow at first, then firmer, deliberate. His movements sent fresh waves of agony into Annie’s crushed limbs. Her body, delicate and helpless in its reduced form, offered no resistance. With each motion, her ribs gave another creak, her frame slowly yielding under the ceaseless assault.
“Still holding on?” Armin asked lightly, breathing a little heavier, not from effort, but enjoyment.
The pain was unrelenting. Annie’s mind swam with pressure, heat, and humiliation, her thoughts fraying at the edges. Somewhere between reality and delirium, her body nearly gave out, her vision darkening
And then, suddenly, light.
Her mouth broke the surface. Air.
Her head, damp with sweat and tears, had slipped into the narrow cleft between Armin’s cheeks, still trapped, still powerless, but able to breathe. Her gasps were shallow and pained.
She tried to speak.
“I… just wanted to—” she croaked, barely audible, her words quivering with pain and desperation.
But the moment shattered.
Without so much as a pause, Armin leaned back once more, shifting his weight fully onto her again. A soft, final scoot sealed her head back into its fleshy prison. The world went dark once more.
“I’m not done yet,” he said quietly, adjusting his posture for comfort.
The chair creaked again.
And the test continued.
