“Oh, shit, look at you, all cute and purple and lacy,” Liz’s words were heavily slurred as she pulled open the curved door to the all-glass transformation chamber. She took a few drunken steps, revealing her naked lower half from below the oversized t-shirt that she wore.
As the effects of the familiar transformation process wore off, so did the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol I drank in the last hour. My mind returned, but not all of my memories, not clearly anyway. I recalled talking about what she was going to turn me into next. After all, she had used her experimental transformation machine to shrink me down to eight inches tall, turn me into a rubber male sex doll for her to fuck, and a few others besides. I’ll admit I’ve grown to enjoy the transformations.
The fact that Liz towered so high over me, and the fact that I couldn't move, shook loose a memory. We were talking about something we had never tried, her turning me into an article of clothing. I was intrigued by the idea but was always nervous about it. So after we both ended up VERY drunk, I guess we made the choice to just dive in…
Now that my mind had been allowed to settle back into my body, I was able to look around my surroundings. I caught a glimpse of what must have been my body, though it was not flesh and blood, but a solid purple color. Since I was in the center of a glass tube, I could subtly make out reflections of Liz and myself. I could see her holding something, holding me. As she started to lift me, I could make out the general shape of my new body. I was roughly triangularly shaped with what looked like a couple openings…
“You are just the cutest little pair of panties aren’t you?” Liz said as she picked me up by what was apparently the ‘hips’ of my new form.
Her words dawned on me… she had made me into a purple pair of lacy “cheekster” panties. I grew nervous as she lifted me into the air. She wasn’t exactly tall, but to my new size, I might as well have been on the roof of a tall building.
As I moved, the surrounding air flowed past and even THROUGH me. To an onlooker, I probably barely moved at all, but even with the slight movement of indoor air, my entire body shifted and waved in ways I never could have before. Every movement coursed through my entire being, not hindered by tight muscles or rigid bones. It was unsettling, but I’ll admit that I never felt more physically relaxed in my entire life.
I shudder ran through me. I remembered talking to her about “starting slow” with the clothing transformations. I would have much rather been that oversized t-shirt the first go around to see if I actually enjoyed it. Of course, I didn’t have the voice to tell her this now that my body was reduced to a scrap of cloth. Liz mentioned working on a way to communicate with the transformed person, but she hadn’t perfected it yet.
“You feel so soft,” Liz started, any more words cut off by a yawn of alcohol-inspired drowsiness. “Let’s get you wrapped around my pussy.”
While still standing in the eight-foot-tall glass cylinder, she lowered me down and lifted her foot. I expected her giant foot to step down on me hard, but instead it passed right through, it was a weird sensation. We had gotten into all kinds of sexual shenanigans before today, so being so close to and between her legs was familiar, but this time she was an absolute giant. She even appeared bigger than when I was eight inches tall.
“Woah!” Liz muttered above me as she almost lost her balance before her foot hit the ground. I panicked for a moment, not sure how her tripping while half in me would end, but luckily she leaned up against the glass wall and regained her balance. Soon after she stepped into me with her other foot.
Without warning she pulled me up her legs, in a wild ride with a mix of sensations. I could feel the smooth warmth of her legs pushing across my fabric, sending shivers down what used to be my spine. But as I moved further up her legs, the girth of her thighs strained me more and more, introducing an uncomfortable stretch. The thought, and the view, of her approaching pussy sent a shiver through me. Fear and anxiety fought with my undeniable excitement at the prospect of being so up close and personal with her. I couldn’t decide if I wanted this, or if I would have rather been returned to my human body. Of course, I had no way of protesting either way…
In an instant, she had settled me around her hips, my body pressed up against her both in front and back. It was such an odd feeling to be stretched over her so intimately. Every part of my body was taut to the point of being smooth. The relaxed feeling from earlier was gone, replaced by a subtle, but ever-present stretch. It was like I was holding a pre-workout stretch: It was uncomfortable and felt right on the edge of being painful. That alone wasn’t that bad, but I quickly realized that I could not relax my body. I was stuck in that edge-of-pain stretch.
I could feel her skin as if my entire naked body was pressed up against her. I could feel the warmth and smoothness on every part of my body with no exception. It felt comforting and sexy at the same time, but also incredibly teasing, almost as if she was lightly brushing my cock through a pair of jeans. I was very well aware of the fact that I could feel the outline of her vagina.
“Ooh you fit so nice,” Liz cooed, stepping out of the machine. As she moved, my body shifted and stretched, almost as if I was getting a deep tissue massage and the masseuse was moving parts of my body for me. “I really should just find boys to be all of my clothes,” she joked, her voice still heavily slurring.
The feeling of her body moving so fluidly inside me was like nothing else I had ever felt. It was… sexy in a way being so close to her. Though also a bit humiliating. My entire existence, all the years I have lived and all of my skills and knowledge I gained was thrown out the window as I was used as nothing more than undergarments for my drunk friend-with-benefits. It occurred to me in that moment just how little I actually knew her. Sure I knew her body extremely well, but our relationship, such as it was, centered around our sex lives. Hell, none of my friends even met her.
Liz stumbled her way upstairs, falling over herself several times on the steps, sending panic through me every time, thinking I was going to end up slamming into the wall, or stumbling down the stairs. As an object like this I wasn’t even sure I could feel pain, but given the sensations of stretching and pinching I was feeling as she moved, I assumed that pain was still on the table.
She finally made her way up the stairs and dropped down hard onto the couch. As she fell, panic gripped me at the feeling of freefall. I hit the cushion hard, her ass pressing down on me, plunging me into partial darkness. The trapped heat from her body had already started to increase. The feeling of her sitting on me wasn’t exactly painful, but certainly was uncomfortable. It felt as if I was sitting in a too-small car seat with Liz sitting in my lap.
Liz pushed back into the couch, shifting her hips toward the front until her ass nearly fell off the front. Directing my vision upwards, I realized that from this position I couldn’t even see her face past her boobs. My world was literally just Liz’s nether regions.
She ran her hands down her body, starting from just below her chest, a long sigh slipping from her lips as she bucked her hips into her hands. For a moment, I felt the mildly calloused skin of her palms run over me, before they continued their journey down her thighs.
“You feel so good,” she sighed. “So sexy, wrapped around me…”
I felt her body heating up as she rocked her hips again, her hands making their way back up, brushing over me, and drawing a line just outside her womanhood. Liz’s left hand continued up to her chest, where she grabbed roughly at her tit through her shirt. I sighed as I felt her right hand sliding over her pussy with me trapped between.
She moaned through closed lips as she moved her right hand over herself, pressing me ever so gently against her. In addition to the growing warmth, I could detect something else, a certain moisture seeping into me. It was like I was feeling the first drops of sweat from a workout, though I knew what it actually was.
Both hands continued to explore her own body, gently at first, but becoming more and more frantic, as if desperately searching for an illusive itch. Liz groaned above me, her body moving in a wave starting from her head and working its way to her knees as her hand pressed harder and harder into me.
Despite everything, I couldn’t help but be a bit turned on by all of this. While I couldn’t see her too well, I could feel every sexually charged movement and hear every grunt and moan. Above me, her hand gripped ever harder at her chest, though I was quickly distracted as her right pointer and index finger separated from the rest of her grip and worked themselves in a circular pattern.
I was no stranger to womens’ bodies, so I knew that she was circling her clit. I groaned to myself as the fabric of my body was pushed deeper into her, my increasingly moistening body pressed into the contours of her intimate parts. I felt every single movement of her fingers as she expertly played her organ like a musical instrument, her whole body responding in kind.
Liz sucked in a series of quick breaths in her climb toward bliss, her fingers becoming ever more forceful with me. I winced internally as discomfort turned to pain at her rough treatment. It didn’t help that the wet heat from her body increased steadily, soaking my form with her animal fragrance.
Above me, Liz grunted and bounced her body against the couch, her movements betraying the frustration edging its way into her sexual bliss. The novelty of witnessing her self-indulgence was starting to wear off as it felt more and more like she was beating the shit out of me.
With a swift movement, her left hand practically flew down to me. Her fingers roughly pushed my fabric aside in their desperate search for her opening. As my cloth pressed against the smooth skin of her inner thigh, I realized just how wet she had made me. I couldn’t help but think of what I was reduced to. Up to this moment, I was sharing an intimate moment with my not-quite-girlfriend, but now I was just an obstacle, a scrap of cloth between her and her sexual pleasure. The word ‘scrap’ wasn’t lost on me either, as I grew nervous that her rough masturbation could rip my new body into uselessness.
Liz pushed her fingers deep into herself without so much as a warm-up, moaning and grunting like an animal. I had a front-row seat, watching her fingers push her flesh apart so close in front of my face that I could barely focus my vision on it.
I’ll admit that some of my arousal returned watching that spectacle. But as her movements became ever increasingly desperate, that too began to wear off. The heat emanating from her body was intense, only made worse by my relatively small size.
“Goddamn it,” Liz muttered, pulling both hands away from me before practically leaping up off the couch. I was so startled by the quick movement that I didn’t even register the relief from her furious masturbating.
Liz rushed through her house, almost jogging in her haste to get to wherever she was going. A few steps away from the couch, she shifted her hips uncomfortably, quickly brushing me back into place over her vagina. Despite the stronger smell and taste that my new position assaulted me with, I was glad that she wasn’t beating the hell out of me anymore.
I watched as we arrived in her bedroom, a place I knew all too well. Granted it wasn’t the only place I banged her brains out, but still. Without hesitation, Liz opened the top drawer of her dresser and grabbed out an object that I was also very familiar with: her battery-powered ‘massagre’ that she used a few times to supplement my equipment.
Liz wasted no time, she crossed over to the bed, threw off her t-shirt, and rolled to the center of the bed. I heard the vibrator click on as she squirmed her way into position on her back. I flinched internally at the speed at which the vibrator approached me, instinctually fearing that it would smash into me like a car.
But when the toy touched me, it was a different feeling entirely. I screamed to myself as intense vibrations ripped through nearly my entire being. It felt like someone strapped me to a seven-foot-tall jackhammer. The vibrations coursing through me not only shook me painfully, but completely disoriented me. My view of the room went completely blurry, causing my head to spin. I even started to get motion sick.
Oblivious to my pain, Liz moaned and rocked her hips feverishly, the vibrator working its powerful magic. She rubbed it hard against her clit, again pressing me into her body and reintroducing me to her various juices. The intense vibrations, pressure and once again growing heat left me in a state of dazed pain. I prayed that she orgasmed quickly so I could be done with this torture.
I was vaguely aware of her increasingly loud moans and grunts as her body writhed on the bed. It seemed as if every muscle she had was working overtime to press that toy into her clit. I knew, from experience (painful experience), that it’s harder for Liz to orgasm when she’s drunk, but I could tell she was determined to get it done.
Finally, her breathing quickened in that ever-familiar way.
“Oh shit, shit, shit, shitshitshit…!” Liz shouted before her voice gave way to a primal scream of pure sexual pleasure. Not that I thought it possible, but I felt myself becoming even wetter as her orgasm forced even more of her liquid into me.
Unfortunately for me, she kept the vibrator in place for a moment longer, riding the aftershocks of her orgasm. Finally, with a deep sigh, she turned off the toy and dropped it weakly on the bed next to her.
I sighed in relief, glad that the ordeal was finally over. As I let myself relax, I looked up at her to see just the naked underside of her tits, her entire body motionless. She also hadn’t talked to me or even acknowledged me at all since the couch. She was going to turn me back, right?
When I heard the subtle sound of her gentle snores, a chill ran through me. Goddamn it! Liz forgot about me! As I thought about the prospect of spending the night wrapped around her, I became acutely aware of just how disgusting I felt. I was soaked with her sweat and cum, the smell and taste penetrating my entire being.
Liz laid motionless for some time. It was evening after all, and she hadn't bothered to turn on the lights when she came in here. At one point, I grew excited as she shifted and groggily rolled off the bed. I was holding my breath, metaphorically of course, for her to remember me and turn me back.
To my dismay, she just went into the bathroom, and slipped me down her legs before sitting down hard on the toilet. I would have turned red in the face at the humiliation I was experiencing. I already felt like an object to be used but, being crumbled up at her dirty, unwashed feet while she used the toilet was the ultimate insult. She was always shy about using the bathroom, preferring to run the water so I wouldn’t even hear anything. But now she didn’t even care about me enough to be embarrassed.
I shouted at her in my head as she concluded her business, stood and pulled me back up. Despite knowing that Liz had in fact wiped herself after peeing, I couldn’t help but feel disgusted being so close to where urine exited her body. I was convinced that I felt the residual heat from her stream.
Oblivious to my thoughts, Liz quickly washed her hands and dropped back down in bed. I was plunged completely into darkness when she pulled her blankets up to her neck. Looks like I was here for the night.
Turns out that you can’t sleep as an object, so I was aware of the entire night, not that I could tell how much time had passed. Finally, after an eternity, Liz stirred. I felt her sit up and pull the blanket off herself, exposing me to the blinding light of what must have been at least ten in the morning. I directed my gaze up at her, not even able to admire her otherwise naked body as I watched her intently, waiting for her to remember what she did to me.
But as she rubbed the hangover out of her eyes, recollection never seemed to come. Instead, she simply got out of bed. She put a t-shirt back on and wore me through her lazy weekend morning routine, finally stripping me off when she climbed into the shower.
I screamed to myself as Liz left me sitting in her hamper with the rest of her discarded clothing. She really did forget about me, the drinks of the night before must have clouded her mind.
I sat in the hamper for days, buried in the smell of her dirty clothes, before she finally loaded me into her washing machine. I didn’t need to breathe, but still felt like I was drowning as I was tossed around with her clothing. The drier was no better, the heat nearly unbearable and the spin dizzying.
This was my life for… who knows how long. She would occasionally wear me, subjecting me to the heat, sweat and more before abandoning me in the laundry again. I held out hope that she would eventually recall what happened that night and return my humanity.
Many days I found myself trapped beneath tight leggings or jeans, steaming in the moisture of her sweat as she went about her day. Sometimes I got lucky and she wore a skirt, so at least I could see SOMETHING and get some airflow. Even other times I was wrapped up in her tight bike shorts and taken on a run or a trip to the gym. These were by far the worst as the smell and sweat was overbearing. Either way I ended up stewing in her smell for days before being sent back through the hellish laundry machines again.
But then one fateful day as I lay discarded on her floor, worn but not in the laundry just yet, I heard her voice coming from down the hall.
“One of my partners actually really enjoyed it. But then one day I just never heard from him again,” I heard her say.
She pushed the door open and walked in, carrying a dildo, and wearing a pair of high-tech earbuds. Living in her underwear drawer, I was very familiar with her various sex toys, but I had never seen this one before.
I put together what was happening: She had turned a man into the dildo, and was talking to him, listening to his responses via the earbuds. Hearing her reference me gave me hope that she would turn me human again. But then she continued…
“Or I forgot to change him back from being my panties, I can’t really remember. I got REALLY drunk that night. The chances are actually pretty high if I’m being honest...” Liz shrugged her shoulders.
And that was it then. She had indeed forgotten about me completely. I knew enough about her machine to know that all she had to do was put me in the chamber and hit “Restore” and I would be returned to my true form, and that this restore function had no effect on objects and people that had not been transformed. So even if she thought that MAYBE she had trapped me as panties, she could have restored every pair until she found me.
But no, she didn’t even care about me enough to spend less than an hour checking her panty drawer…
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