Flattened into a pancake

You couldn’t just stand there and listen to her praise her own "shortstack" status while she looked like that. Her vanity was driving you crazy—it was a mix of being incredibly turned on by the sight of her and the sheer absurdity of having to deal with such a cheeky, transformed version of your girlfriend.

Determined to humble her (and because you couldn't resist the urge to get closer), you didn't go for a graceful martial arts move. Instead, you leaned into your massive, sumo-like build. You lowered your shoulder and lunged forward like a runaway freight train.

It wasn’t so much a tackle as it was a total gravitational event.

"Wait—!" Leni gasped, her eyes widening as she realized the sheer mass of you was coming straight for her.

Oomph!

The impact was heavy and somewhat clumsy. You hit her midsection with your massive bulk, and since there was no one to catch the momentum, you both went sprawling toward the floor. It sounded less like a wrestling match and more like a giant beanbag chair hitting a pile of pillows.

Because of your immense weight and girth, you didn't just knock her down; you practically flattened her. You landed squarely on top of her, your heavy, solid mass pinning her petite frame effortlessly against the floor. Leni was completely smothered beneath you, her small body nearly vanishing under your formidable size.

She ended up flat on her back with you sprawled over her, your weight acting like a massive human anchor. She let out a muffled, breathless laugh—partly from the shock and partly because she was struggling to find enough air to complain.

Leni lay there, trapped beneath your formidable weight. Her wide blue eyes stared up at you, and she looked like a beautiful doll caught under a falling boulder. The contrast was absurd: your massive, powerful physique looming over her petite, curvaceous "shortstack" figure. She was trying to catch her breath, the air squeezed out of her by your heavy torso pressing against hers.

For a second, there was silence as you grinned down at her, feeling quite proud of your successful—if somewhat clumsy—tactic.

Then, the most unexpected thing happened.

Leni’s face scrunched up into a look of mock-annoyance, and instead of a sweet, romantic giggle, a surprisingly gruff, grumbling voice—the unmistakable voice of her old self, Walter—came vibrating from her throat.

"Good grief, son!" she (or rather, he) barked, though it sounded a bit more like a breathless wheeze since you were still leaning on her. "Are you trying to flatten me into a pancake? You're not just a son; you're a walking avalanche! Give a man—er, a girl—some breathing room!"

The absurdity of the sound coming from her beautiful face was almost enough to make you lose your balance again. It was as if Walter’s old-man grumpiness had been perfectly preserved within Leni’s gorgeous new form.

You looked down at her, seeing the struggle between her feminine grace and that stubborn, fatherly attitude. Even while being crushed by your massive weight, she still had plenty of fight in her.