"You will be my seat."

"Follow." Abra motioned as she took a few giant steps. Texas had to break into a full sprint to keep up with her, the thick rugs making every step just that little bit more tiring. Thankfully her destination wasn't far. The witchdoctor took a step to the side and revealed a modest stack of pillows. Texas winced a little. She'd seen the witchdoctor sit there when she met her the first time. Already a sense of dread came over the weasel.

Abra looked down smugly at her victim, relishing the fun she was about to have. She clears her voice and proceeds with the most serious tone she can muster. "Communin with de spirits be long and arduous. But with you squirmin beneath me, it'll be dat much more bearable." A cruel smirk snuck onto her face as she watched Texas' hopes get dashed. "Now climb up on there and prepare yourself."

Texas was about ready to cry out in frustration. What had she done to earn this? Could this madwoman not see that her profession was filled with conmen? How was the weasel supposed to know there's at least one real witchdoctor out there amidst that sea of impostors? It wasn't going to matter, apparently. Unless Texas wanted to stay tiny, she had to do what the cheetah wanted. She **** her expression into a wry smile. Things could've gone a lot better, but they already had plenty of opportunity to get worse. At least it's just the witchdoctor about to sit on her. That dainty figure was a blessing compared to the likes of Roxxie or Georgia. If those bandits had found her at this size there's no telling what they'd do. Vivian would probably keep her as a pet or something. Many of her foes might even just eat her. The weasel shuddered at the thought. None of that mattered for now. She'd clambered up the soft pillows and was looking up to Abra, who seemed eager as ever to get back to meditating.

The witchdoctor looked down at the sheriff one last time before taking her position and gently seating herself. Texas was spared having to endure her bare ass, but the flowing silken dress did little to hide Abra's figure. She might be dainty, but from Texas' perspective her ass was bigger than Georgia's right now. At least the cheetah looked like she'd actually take a bath on the regular, sparing the weasel from the abhorrent stench most of her foes prided themselves on. The soft wall of Abra's rear descended, planted firmly in the stack of pillows and burying the weasel between a butt and a soft place. The small lump formed in Abra's seat squirmed slightly, Texas trying to adjust herself to the oppressive weight.

"Dat be good, little sheriff. You keep wrigglin for me and de spirits might forgive your other transgressions." She looked at the hourglass. Almost a quarter of the time had already expired just getting the weasel to run across the wagon and take her place. With only about ten minutes left Abra began to lean onto her new cushion, grinding her rear down on the tiny sheriff. She got more and more animated, determined to trip the weasel up when suddenly...

Pffffffrt

"Oops, my apologies." Abra said insincerely. She stood up a little to hear the weasel cough and wheeze.

Texas was treated to a lungful of pestilent gas. No more than a small toot for the cheetah, it felt like a smelly hurricane at the sheriff's small stature. "Dammit, what th' hell was that about, you varmint!" She spat out in frustration, but her blood ran cold when the witchdoctor responded with laughter.

"Dat... be fifteen more minutes of submission." She crowed gleefully, planting her butt straight back down. Texas could only manage a look of horrified realization before disappearing beneath Abra's backside once more. The cheetah chuckled to herself before continuing her meditation, watching the hourglass and flipping it once the sand had run out. She could only hope this little incident was the start of many more extensions.