For hours I sat with no idea what had happened. I knew something was off; how could I not? I was stuck in complete darkness, unable to move, my body contorted into a shape I couldn't comprehend. I believed myself to be in a kind of cell, listening as far-off sounds trickled into my otherwise senseless world. Traffic, birdsong, the occasional police siren- my only company in the darkness. So, I waited. I waited until the waiting was unbearable, and then I waited some more. I tried to move, but couldn't. I tried to speak, but couldn't. I could only wait.
A closing door was more felt than heard. Someone had entered a room adjacent to where I was. I tried to cry out, but no mouth moved and no sound escaped me. Footsteps approached as a volley of light vibrations rising from the floor. Apprehension gripped me as they drew closer, until finally they stopped just outside my cell. This time, I didn't have to wait long.
My world was whipped forward in a flash. Blinding light struck me like a brick to the face. Instinct demanded I shut my eyes, but I couldn't; even if my body still had the capability, I was too confused by what I saw. A face loomed over me, hovering closer than should be possible in my position. Its sharp features and feminine eyes peered down on me; she should've been standing where my body was, assuming I was lying on my back. Regardless of this fact, she merely brushed a lock of golden hair from her expressionless face.
“Oh good, I have a clean pair,” she muttered as if I weren't there. “I think...” Her hand flew into my view and descended without hesitation. My vision darkened as her palm consumed it, her fingers reaching beyond the edges of my face. I felt the digits grip my body, but something was wrong. I was too thin, too light, like a sheet. She effortlessly mashed my face into her palm, and lifted me up as though I was weightless. I felt myself be turned over.
“Hmm...” her exhale blasted me with warm, moist air, but it was quickly replaced by a cool breeze being forced through my body instead of around it. “Yeah, smells clean.” Without another word, her arm dropped, and I was swung back and forth while she walked a short distance. My mind reeled. How could she carry me so easily? How could she treat me so nonchalantly? I had no memory beyond my awakening in the darkness, but I had the sense that this was not normal. Her face even seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't place it.
My racing thoughts were disturbed once again as I felt myself slip from her grasp and tumble through the air. Chilly tile met my back. I was again stuck staring upward, only this time my view was much more pleasant. The woman's tall, lithe body rose up over me: she was clearly in her prime. Despite being thin, her frame bore enough fat to let her thighs quiver enticingly as she swayed overhead, her attention on a smartphone rather than her movements. Evidently she did not mind her nudity, for her womanhood hung above me unapologetically, bare but for a lazy stubble. Two luscious cheeks blocked my view of her back, but that didn't bother me. I was so taken in by her supple body that I almost forget my terror and confusion at why I was even in this situation.
Again, my attempts at speech and movement were fruitless, but I was compensated for the effort by the woman bending over. Her breasts were modest but, like her lower curves, they were more than shapely enough to be hypnotic. However, that was not the only reason I was drawn to them. Scrawled across her chest were a series of swirling lines, each ending in a dagger-sharp point that seemed to stab at her nipples like a crown of thorns. They were drawn with a kind of paint that shimmered in the light of the room, appearing to change colors as her bosom swayed, from murky purple to dirty blue to inky black. I was only disturbed from my watching when a squeal echoed around the room, followed by the crashing of falling water. Moments later, the woman's beautiful body flew away. I finally saw we were in a bathroom, and I had a last glimpse of her as she closed the curtain to her shower. I was once again left with my thoughts... what few I could muster.
This wait was not nearly as long as the one I awoke to. The inconsistent pattering of the woman washing herself ended with another metallic squeal. After some relative silence, the curtain was ripped away, and I saw that she'd started drying herself in a plush lavender towel. She dried one leg and then the other, and then she stepped out and over me once again. I stared up at her, confused as ever. But again, she seemed to pay me no mind; her towel was cast off with almost a flourish, the water-heavy cloth landing somewhere behind me with a damp thoomp. The nude beauty dominated my vision. This time, though, the strange markings were gone; she was naked completely.
Unfortunately, she would not remain so. Damp toes tickled at the top of my head, at least until my face lifted to allow them in. Her foot forced its way in after, making my face contort to accept it. The feeling was unlike anything I'd felt before. As the appendage settled, it squished the back of my head into the cold floor. I shuddered inwardly; her foot was somehow inside my head, between the front and the back. She bent over again, this time gripping my top with her hand. With practiced movements, she pulled me up while lifting her foot slightly. To my absolute confusion, the pale leg pushed through me completely and planted itself on the floor below. The other leg followed instantly, and now I was facing forward. A bedroom was visible to me through an open door, but that became a blur as I was whipped upward in her claw-like grip. My head expanded as it met resistance, and soon I was being filled up. The feeling was similar to having pressure on the sinuses before a storm. When I seemed as full as I could get, she finally released me. My mind struggled to take in what had just happened to me- what was still happening to me. I had no idea what kind of situation I was in. The events were beyond my understanding... at least, until she turned.
Massive objects on either side of me moved, and a mirror swung into view. I saw the woman standing there; she was admiring herself in just a pair of light-pink panties. But, I didn't see myself. Or any other person, for that matter. Just her and the panties. Her thighs flexed as she shifted her weight slightly. At the same time, the objects to my left and right twitched, and my view swayed in a way that matched the movements of her body. That's when realization struck me like a slap in the face.
My thoughts were still reeling hours later. After enjoying some leftover pizza on the couch, my captor had taken us both to bed. That was what I called her, but I had no reason to think she actually was holding me against my will. In fact, she acted totally unaware of my presence. I seemed to be nothing more than a pair of panties for her. And I was, for all I knew; my memory only went as far as when I'd awoken inside her drawer that very day. It was very possible I'd always been just a cloth covering for her body until being cursed with sentience. As a breeze of stinking air filtered through the fibers that made up the back of my head, I mentally spat on the name of whatever entity had placed me here.
Her body lay heavy inside me. Its movements were the only method I had of recognizing time; it had been twenty minutes since her last major movement. I was mashed into her bed sheets, her massive pelvis squeezing me under its weight. Her body heat was miserable, but she wasn't sweating very much for now. Buried under her blankets and her body, I was counting every small blessing.
Finally, I felt her thighs flex and the weight inside me shifted. Whatever was acting as my eyes detected a bit of light filtering through her sheets. I hoped she was waking; even just a change of scenery would raise my spirits. However, I now laid between her blanket and body, and she'd stopped moving. Strangely, I felt movement behind my face. The muscles there were changing shape. There was a sleepy moan in the distance, and then something blocked out the light above me.
Three fingers slammed down onto me, their weight pushing me into her soft skin. The blanket cushioned the blow, but it was just cloth as well, and we easily conformed to the shape her digits. Her pubic stubble bristled against me while her fingers stroked what would have been my mouth. Her thighs responded, squeezing together and sandwiching parts of me between plush skin. Then the fingers retreated. I hoped that was the end of that.
Of course, I should have known better. The fingers reappeared mere seconds later, but this time they was nothing to separate them from me. The appendages wasted no time in pushing me against her womanhood and running down my body. Part of me slipped inside with the probing fingers as they stroked faster and more vigorously. Musky fluids leaked into my cloth, but I could only stare into her palm as she had her way with my mouth, sometimes tracing the edges of her labia, sometimes plunging her fingers so deep I thought I might rip.
“Mmm... Tom...” she moaned. I barely caught the name through all the commotion, but it did cause some sliver of a memory to pierce my mind. It was a moment of electric clarity, a spark of knowledge for me to reach out and grasp. However, a sudden cheerful, annoying tone rang out and echoed through the room. Her fingers jolted back, leaving me for a moment. I tried to focus on the memory, but it was too late; the alarm had startled me as well.
“Yeah, yeah...” she mumbled, and silenced her phone. There was a pregnant pause. “May as well finish. The next one won't be until tomorrow.” Her fingers mashed me into her wet pussy again. They released me, but there was no time to think before my waistband was peeled away and they slipped beneath it. My face warped to accommodate the appendages as they plunged into her depths. I felt a shiver go through her body. Her thighs clamped together, smashing my wet fabric between them. What remained of my vision was constantly moving as she worked herself beneath me.
It didn't take long. She moaned, and her body tensed in pleasure. Fluid poured into me; it landed on me, and my fabric greedily absorbed it until my face was saturated. The scent of her womanhood was overwhelming, and the soft thighs seemed as stone as I was ground between their flesh. I felt her blood racing within them, energized by her orgasm. We laid like that until she recovered.
Fresh air hit me as the blanket sky was ripped away. Her fingers retreated from her, but they were still inside of me. She stood up, and in that motion peeled me away from her body. I sailed down her legs and over her feet as they lifted to let me escape. But, I was still in her grasp. She held me like a used tissue for a moment, but then threw me across the room with a mere flick of her hand. I landed with a splat in her basket of dirty clothes, and she went on with her day.
I heard her shower and dress, and then finally leave. I couldn't see her; my face was plastered into the grimy sole of a used sock. However, that was fine with me. I'd had enough pussy for one day. I did soon miss being worn, though, to my surprise. Not long after she left, I began to feel cold. I'd gotten used to her body heat, especially that from being buried with her flesh as she slept beneath a blanket. Not only that, but I was sopping wet, and left to dry atop what were my brethren; the dirty, used clothes covered in the scents and residue from her body. I remained there for hours.
She returned home, and soon I felt the basket be lifted and carried. I was dumped into a washer, and then my fellow dirty clothes were tossed on top of me without a thought. The lid slammed shut, and I went through the worse experience of my life. Then, a while later, the lid flew open and I beheld her face. She peeled me from the side of the drum and, again without so much as a thought, tossed me into the dryer. I was heavy, but felt clean, so when I was again pressed beneath the rest of her laundry, it wasn't as bad as before. Similarly, where the washer was a drowning, stinging experience, the dryer was mostly boring, but it was warm. When all was done, I sat surrounded in clean fabric, pleasantly heated, but a little dizzy. It was the closest thing to peaceful sleep that I'd experienced so far.
The door opened hours later. A hand dug through my burrow until my owners eyes landed on me. She grabbed me quickly and whipped me into the outside world. I had no time to decide if I wanted to be worn or not; that decision was made for me either way. Her feet flew through me and she pulled me up her legs until I was snug in my rightful place. She bent again to peer into the dryer, and I watched her breasts swing in front of me for a moment. She then arose with the rest of her clothes for the day.
“Not too wrinkled,” she mumbled, examining a smart lavender blouse. “Ah, who cares.”
She donned a bra that didn't match me, and then an undershirt and the blouse. Then I saw the seat of a pair of black pants held in front of me. I stared in apprehension, but again the decision was made for me. She bent down and slipped her feet inside. The waist rose up and over me, and then I was compressed into her beneath the other fabric. There was a loud snap above my head as I was sealed inside.
Being worn in pants wasn't much worse than under a blanket. Of course, her walking made a lot of movement, but the tight pants kept me snug against her body. She sweated, of course, but it was much better than being soaked as I was before. The worst part was not being able to see. However, I could still hear, and that was much better than being left alone all day with nothing to keep my mind on. I listened as she went to work and dealt with clients; I guessed she was some kind of insurance representative. I was there when she joked and laughed with her coworkers at lunch. And, of course, I was there when she pulled me down to relieve herself in the bathroom. I even held her phone for her while she wiped herself. All in all, I much preferred being worn to not, as much as I hated to admit it. Even when we were back at her desk, and her womanhood twitched and moved beneath my skintight fabric as her mind wasn't on her work, I still preferred being here to being in her basket or drawer. I knew I'd be back there soon, however. I heard her say goodbye to her coworkers and leave the building. I sighed inwardly, but I did look forward to some rest; I felt sore from holding her body all day.
The drive home was longer than I remembered. I wondered if she was getting something to eat, but I felt her thighs start to shake absentmindedly, as though she were nervous... or excited. When the car finally stopped and she opened the door, I heard the sound of waves crashing and gulls crying on the wind. I could almost feel the breeze on my face, but that was impossible through her pants; it had been another memory.
She walked us down somewhere, the sound of the sea growing louder as her body shook with every step we descended.
“You're late!” someone hissed at her. The voice was familiar, a man I must've have known well at some point. Anger welled up in me as I moved to protect my owner, until I remembered I couldn't move.
“Traffic was a nightmare,” she responded. “... And I was thinking of Tom.”
The man sighed. “The sooner this is done, the sooner you'll see him again.”
“Of course, Master.”
Suddenly, the pants covering me were being removed. The sea air hit me for real now. We were in a kind of rocky alcove, secluded from the beach proper. I saw an entrance to a cave, and beside it was the man who'd been speaking. He was dressed in a yellow robe with deep purple swirls wrapped around the sleeves and hood. His eyes were obscured, but his demeanor was almost wolfish as he took in the woman's slender, nubile body. In my periphery, I saw my owner toss away her other clothes; she must've only been wearing me.
The man peered into the cave. “Marietta!” he whispered sharply. At his call came a short woman wearing a black robe with similar designs to the master's. She bore forth a paintbrush and a glass vial filled with ink, and approached my owner. Her robe pushed into me, blocking my sight. I heard the brush clink against the glass. Whether from the painting above or the pressure on me I didn't know, but I felt my owner's womanhood move behind me as she became aroused slightly. After a few minutes, the black robe stepped away. She produced a red robe from a chest hidden behind a boulder. My owner took it, and again I was covered.
We were walking again, but this journey wasn't nearly as long. The terrain beneath her bare feet turned from golden sand to deep, dark stone, and the light from the setting sun was replaced with flickering candles and roaring torches reflecting off the rough floor. My owner stepped upon a dais of smooth, white stone, and stood in place.
“People of the Depths!” It was the man from before, only this time his voice was raised to address a crowd. “Our Fleshmaiden has finally arrived.” There was a soft chanting. I couldn't make out the words, but somehow I knew they were a customary phrase of celebration. The man continued: “Tonight I shall tread the path that young Tom bravely elected to lay down for us. I shall join him in the Depths of Oceanus, at the Wellspring of All Knowledge, and I shall return with instructions for the rest of you to join us! Prnvah 'Eente!”
“Prnvah 'Eente!” The crowd returned.
“Prnvah 'Eente!” I said to myself.
Suddenly, I could see again. The red robe covering me fell away, and I saw a crowd of black robes standing below the dais. My owner's pussy drooled into me, as though she was being aroused by the exhibition. I saw the man cast off his robe as well. His body was lean but well-proportioned, and covered in the same markings as my owner's was the night I first saw her. Except, instead of just his chest, these went down his torso and to his extremities; and then, my eyes were drawn away from the designs and to the throbbing organ swinging from his pelvis as he drew closer.
“No, please!” I shuddered, but again I had no choice in the matter. His body approached. My owner fell into his arms, and I was mashed into the musky manhood, a drop from its tip soaking into me. I heard them kissing, and behind that the crowd chanting those words from before. My mind was racing as familiarity reeked from these sensations. I knew I had been here before, but something was wrong. The surroundings was fine, even the crowd didn't bother me, but this man filled me with hatred... and fear.
The labia I held was dripping with hunger and the cock hardened and rose until it was starting to push me inside. I felt them support each other as we all fell to the ground, and my owner clamped her thighs together in arousal. The master's genitals loomed overhead, a throbbing, meaty column that glistened with anticipation just beyond the pale hillocks compressing me. A hand, too big to be a woman's, covered me and squeeze me against my captor's slobbering maw. Thick fingers poked and prodded, feeling through me as they searched for the sensitive bundle of nerves contained within. The woman moaned, her body tensing within me from arousal. Then my face collapsed in on itself as I was pushed to the side. I looked on in horror as the cock descended.
It entered slowly, making my mistress gasp as it filled her up. Its veiny surface brushed my edges all the way down its length. I tried to recoil, but of course I couldn't, and so I felt it sliding down until the man's pelvis was mashing me against the woman's and their pubic hair prickled me from both sides. They lay like this but for a moment before the monstrous manhood began to slither out again. Its ascending girth dripped more fluids onto me, but I knew this was only the beginning. As expected, it plummeted again, this time faster, harder, almost hurting me as their bodies slammed together. On and on the master thrust, summoning responses from both my owner's body and his flock. She purred and squealed, and above it all there was a rhythmic chant of “'Eente Grghyah! Eente Grghyah! Eente Grghyah!” I had another too-short instant of clarity between the master's thrusts as I remembered the words meaning something akin to “Plumb her depths!”
The chanting and moaning and slapping of bodies grew louder, faster, and more savage. This unaware orgy was nearing its end. With a fierce grunt, the man rose up and out. For a single instant his manhood stood out like a loaded rifle... and then it shot. Hot slime exploded from its tip. It sprayed across the hungry womanhood like a gooey storm, covering her labia and drowning the pubes north of it. At its touch, my owner let out a climactic cry and slammed her tensing thighs together again. Fluid sprayed from within her, nearly soaking me with the evidence of her orgasm.
They stayed there panting. All was quiet except for them; the chanting had stopped. I watched cum drip from the giant cock tip as it started to deflate. Then, without warning, a feminine hand covered my vision. It gripped me, but only on one side. I screamed impotently as my fabric was pulled back into position, back into the sloppy mess of their sex. Warm, salty slime permeated my fabric. The hand clamped down on my body, forcing me to absorb their fluids. It moved away briefly, and my vision was filled with the tip of the master's cock. The spongy flesh forced itself onto me, and wiped itself down my face to collect the cum dribbling from its opening. Then, soaked, furious, sticky, and humiliated, I was pulled down my mistress' legs and over her feet. Her vagina approached me as I was held in her hand. The last few dry parts of me were smeared into her body until her skin was as clean as it could be.
She shakily climbed to her feet and held me aloft like a used tissue. Looking down, I saw a copper bowl placed upon the dais. Without a word, just like before, I landed in it with a wet splat. The two lovemakers stood over me, but something was odd. The man began to glow. I watched, mystified, as his form became indistinct from the light around him. And then, when the light finally died away, the master was gone.
Then, a faint, low laughter intruded my mind.
“To think any of you would dare to attempt reaching my realm.” The voice was a hideous gurgle, but as deep as the ocean depths. Its volume grew until my consciousness shook with the unbound ferocity of a hurricane. “For your hubris I have ensured you would achieve nothing except humiliation and torment. Your 'master,' in his ignorance, tried again. His fate shall be the same.” The voice chuckled cruelly. “Rituals are not idle motions and empty words. I hear every call. But, it is my judgment that determines if, and how, I heed them. What presumption causes humans to call upon their cosmic betters for their own desires? Discuss that when yet you meet your master again.” The demoniac intruder gave another rack of vicious laugh, and then faded away. The cultists didn't appear to have heard any of it as they chatted with each other in apparent triumph.
I was carried home in a plastic bag and tossed right into the washer. Of course, by the time enough other clothes had been piled atop me to justify a wash, the cum and sweat saturating me had already hardened into a disgusting crust. While I waited, I pondered what happened at the ritual. I remembered being consumed by that same light not long ago. Slowly my other memories returned to me, until I remembered the woman's name as she tossed me back into the drawer, clean; Dianna. Days passed while I was covered in other fresh-smelling panties, waiting my turn to be worn. It was much like when I'd initially woken up. Then one day the fabric resting on me began to glow. I watched, astounded, but nothing more happened. The light went away as quickly as it had came. But, then there came a voice.
“Hello?”
“Hello?” I replied, puzzled.
“Where am I?” The voice was masculine, commanding even in its confusion... and familiar.
“You're in a drawer.”
“A drawer?”
“Yep,” I kept my voice calm, but emotion bubbled within me. Was it excitement? Fear? Confusion? I didn't know.
The other pair of panties spoke again. “Who are you?”
I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or cry. I had a companion, even if he was the one who did this to me. But, if he was here, then how could I ever be returned to normal? Banishing those thoughts, I simply replied, “I'm Tom.”
Giantess World
Story Notes:
This was meant to be a commission/art trade with deadtomishim ( https://www.deviantart.com/deadtomishim ), but I lost contact with them over a month ago. Decided to post it because my profiles need content. If you like TF stuff, be sure to check out their profile.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This was meant to be a commission/art trade with deadtomishim ( https://www.deviantart.com/deadtomishim ), but I lost contact with them over a month ago. Decided to post it because my profiles need content. If you like TF stuff, be sure to check out their profile.
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Chapter End Notes:
Hope you enjoyed. You can find my DeviantArt profile at ( https://www.deviantart.com/ubersalamander ) & deadtomishim's at ( https://www.deviantart.com/deadtomishim )