Attendance (Patreon)

The booming voice of the college professor echoed above the poor student pinned to her seat, appearing as nothing more than another speck of lint on the rapidly aging chair she'd used for several years now. Her voice worbled with anxiety as she addressed the class, all the while the students pitiful attempts to free themself were completely crushed beneath the massive weight of her ass.

Dottie, meanwhile, was completely unaware of her unintentional captive. The Student's goal to reach higher ground was achieved after their arcane mishap, hoping they could garner their teacher's attention from her seat. Unbeknownst to them, however, was Dottie's sheer inability to notice anything around herself while on the brink of panic. And while she'd been working on such anxieties in therapy, being assigned as a professor for an entire class of fresh, new mages was taxing on her psyche to say the least.

Perhaps this is why she continued shifting in her seat. With each lapse in her prepared speech she fumbled through, she'd give a slight gulp and readjust her posterior, shifting side to side, forward and back, or standing for but a moment only to bring her massive behind crashing into her seat once more. All the while, the student beneath her was tormented by their teachers malevolent cheeks, half-believing such continuous shifting and fidgeting had to be an intentional attack on the tiny.

As Dottie began rattling off names, hands slowly raised around the room, before falling to the student's name. She waited a moment, the silence in the hall causing her to shift backwards, rolling the one she'd been awaiting an answer from completely beneath her backside. She called a couple more times, with varied inflections and pronunciations, wedging the student further between her cheeks with each nervous shift.

Getting no response, her mind raced as to why a student would skip their introduction to her class, only for her to cease the depreciating thoughts and practicing what she'd learned in therapy. Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, she stiffened her posture and composed herself as she continued with role call. All the while, the tightening of her posture include her buttocks, sucking the tiny straight up between her clothed crack as her dress wedged itself deep between her asscheeks.

Upon completion of her role call, Dottie stood up from her seat as though to seal the student's fate, as her butt wobbled back and forth as she walked throughout the room, passing out her syllabus, writing on her chalkboard, and anxiously pacing about; all the while not a student could ignore the clear definition of their teacher's gargantuan glutes as they shook too and fro, accentuated by her form-fitting dress and clear wedgie she refused to fix out of either pure embarrassment or obliviousness.

The only thing unnoticed by all was the poor tiny missing their first day of class as the thick, fleshy walls intent on grinding them to dust blocked out all sound...