After what seemed like an hour of struggle, I gave up and lay immersed in the heavy stockings.  Entagled in the smelly foot-wear of my giantess mom, I felt no progress had been made.  Certainly, no light from the outside of my fabric prison was making its way toward my shrunken form; and if anything, the smell was actually getting worse, suggesting I was either crawling towards the "foot" of the stockings, or inadvertantly inside them!

Defeated and frustrated, I simply relaxed and simmered in the heat generated by my body.  My breath was creating a damp atmosphere, and sweat was pooling around my body.  Indeed, I had shed many clothes during the crawl to make my "slithering" around easier, and now had left only my boxer shorts, which I began to pull off as well in an attempt to cool myself.  Now completely naked, I felt embarrased to be inside my mom's smelly hose--but reminded myself this was all a computer-generated fantasy, at best.

Suddenly, the all-too famaliar "booms" of my mom's foot-falls began issuing around me, shaking the laundry basket.  In the dim light, I couldn't tell what she was doing in the room, but could barely make out a giantess figure standing directly above me.  Before I could brace myself, the basket was lifted and placed violently on the floor, jarring my bones and sore joints.  If not for the clothes laying on me, I felt I would have bounced right out of the basket!

A series of painfully loud "clicks" sounded from high above me, followed by an equally painful "whoosh" of water as my mom began operating the washing machine! My heart leapt into my throat, and in desperation, I began crawling again, frantic to find an exit before my unaware mom dumped me with her dirty clothes into a swirling, soapy whirlpool!

No sooner had I began squeezing under yet another fold of fabric than the whole mess, myself included, was lifted from the basket.  As lumps of hose feel away, I quickly wrenched my fingers in the fabric as I found myself exposed and flying high above the basket, towards the washing machine!

Next to me, my giantess mother now wore a soft-looking white bath robe, presumably having finished her shower.  As she swung the dirty hose towards the machine, I began to pass by her, and noticed a large, open pocket on her robe near her hip.  Without thinking about the possible consequences of falling to the tiled floor from this amazing height, I released my grip and plummeted like a sky diver towards the pocket.

As the world around me rushed by, my blood froze and my stomach lurched.  Either luck or pre-programming was with me, as my legs nicked the lip of the pocket and I tumbled down to the bottom, becoming wedged upside-down and face-first against my mom's right hip.  High above me, the pocket afforded me a tiny view of the ceiling and the occasional glimpse of my mom's cute face as she continued her work.  Stuck on yet another roller-coaster ride, I swayed up and down as she reached in the basket and added more clothes to the water.  Finally, she finished her work and left the room, flipping the light switch and carrying her unknown passanger to an unkown desitination.

Righting myself, I tried to stand but found no footing.  I crumbled into a tiny ball, forced to endure the ride as my mother walked down her steps, each foot-fall reverberating inside my body.

I decided on a new tactic.

"Mom!" I shouted, hoping this holo-mom understood English.

"Mom! I'm inside your pocket! It's me, Rob!"

She continued walking.  Even to me, my voice sounded puny and ineffectual.

What would she do now? Her bedroom was upstairs, suggesting she wasn't ready for sleep yet.

Suddenly, I found myself floating upwards as my mom sat down.  I grasped the curls of dry fabric and crashed hard into her hip as she finished the movement.  Perhaps feeling the little "bump," she wiggled her hips, jostling me around.  She then settled into place and turned on the television, a noise so loud that I instantly covered my ears and grimaced.

Flipping through various channels, my mom was still unaware her tiny, shrunken son--now naked--was inside her robe pocket.  Looking up, I saw her brown hair and right ear.  Occasionally, she would tuck some hair behind her ear absentmindedly.

Pulling on the tufts of fabric around me, I was able to pry loose some frizzy, fluffy cotton and place it inside both ears, slightly muting the television.  I tried to find a comfortable position in the tapered pocket, and eventually settled down deep inside the wedge, prepared to wait.

After a few minutes, my mom settled on a movie channel, and began watching what was obviously a "chick-flick," a romantic love-story whose cliched nonsense reached even my protected ears.  Groaning, I could only hear the story and imagine the scenes.

Time passed.  Every now and then, my mom would shift herself, and each movement filled me with hope that she might put her hand inside the pocket and discover me.  Alas, no luck.

After a while, I noticed a change in her demeanor.  Her body began to heave, and before I could guess why this was so, I heard her sob.  Large booms of crying began to rattle my body, and I could tell from the movie's music that it was a "sad" scene.  Crying more intensely now, I heard a large horn-like blow as she blew her nose into a tissue.  I closed my eyes and put my hands around my ears again to soften the noise, more annoyed than ever at the way movies sucked her into their drama.

With my eyes closed, I didn't at first notice what was coming my way.  I felt an unexpected softeness fall to me inside the pocket, and when I opened my eyes, I was entombed in some sort of weird fabric...a tissue! A used tissue!

Deep inside the tissue, I could see a darker spot where she had blown her nose. 

No! I thought to myself.  Not this!

Another tissue was placed inside, pushing the first further down and bringing me closer to the mucus ball inside! I could even feel a slight amount of heat emanating from the snot. 

I tried curling up into a tighter ball, but this only allowed the first tissue to close around me to a greated degree.  As the minutes ticked by, my mom continued to blow her nose, stuffing more used tissues in her temporary waste basket, and inadvertantly burying her son in the nastiness!

I suddenly yearned for the smelly stockings.  It was then that I noticed the wetness begin to ooze around me, and no further escape was possible.  Trapped like a rat in the maze's dead end, I could only wait as the bottom half of the compressed tissue absorbed more mucus and began to moisten my naked body.

Another tissue was stuffed into the pocket high above me, and now engulfed in me in darkness.  The mucus dribbled onto my right arm, and like a sneaky water nymph, began to find its way to my torso and legs.  The now-cold mucus smelled less than the stockings, but still contained its own pungent odor, like that of sickness.

As the moments went by, I could do nothing as the cold, slimy substance began coating my entire body, leaving only my head free as I pressed it desperately into my mom's hip, almost suffocating myself.  Before long, I was sitting in a pool of slimy fabric and tissue, the mucus having reached between my toes and around my testicles.  Only my chin remained free, and now, as I feared, more mucus began wetting the hair on my head.

"Mom! For goodness sake, please! Help! Stop crying!" I shouted.  No use.

The mucus now dribbled down my forehead and onto my face, and I began gagging as I tried to keep my lips shut.