Ironed Man (Part One)
One Foot Tall Fiancé
chapter 6
by
copier
· original author:
phantomstriker
“Wow! Sophie did a number to this, huh? Better wash it real good!” Cassie declared with a wry smile on her face. Not a trace of recognition shone in her brilliant eyes, nor did Cassie spare you a second look as she tucked the cushion under her arm. Your body was pressed into her stomach as she strolled from the room, wholly oblivious to just how close she was to her poor, squashed fiancé. Still flattened and crushed, you couldn’t call out to her no matter how hard you tried.
You were bounced up and down as Cassie descended the stairs and headed for the washroom. She passed the rest of her family along the way, and each Smalls woman was totally unaware of who Cassie was escorting to the washing machine. Sophie just sat on her chair giggling at her social media feed, the picture of perfect innocence and joy. Never in a million years would she, on her own, guess what she had done to you.
In the washroom, Cassie flipped open the lid to the washing machine and dropped the cushion in. It landed flat, with you facing outward and up, allowing you a few more fleeting seconds to gaze up at your beloved giantess fiancée and beg her to notice you. Sadly, Sophie’s ass had smeared you a good deal into the cushion, obscuring your recognizable features, which resulted in you failing to stand out to Cassie during her quick glance.
Instead, you could only watch your fiancée turn on the freezing water, pour in some detergent, then slam the lid shut. Soon, only the roaring of the water and the rumbling of the spinning bin filled your senses, and quickly you and the entire cushion were submerged and lost in the churning sea of the washing machine.
However, for some inexplicable reason, fate was shining down on you that day, as only a minute into the wash, your face caught on a miniscule, sharp protrusion in the side of the bin. Presumably some chip in the metallic surface, it dug into your squishy chest like a knife, generating excruciating pain. At the same time, the metal chip digging into your body held you in place, even while the spinning bin and rushing waters pushed the cushion along its rotation.
In seconds, your body, unable to be in two places at once, was ripped cleanly (albeit painfully) from the cushion, freeing you from the imprisonment Sophie’s bubble butt had forced upon you. With less holding you down, you too popped free from the clutches of the metallic, jagged point, and started blowing around in the water like a little weightless feather helplessly adrift. Still, it beat being glued to the cushion.
Before you could truly celebrate, however, the spinning bin slowed down as the lid to the washing machine was opened once more. Under the water, you couldn’t hear or see anything, but up above, Cassie had an armful of sweaty workout clothes, courtesy of Maddie, who had recently finished an intense exercise routine out in the yard. Seeing as how the wash was already going, she’d asked Cassie to add her stuff in with the cushion, and Cassie graciously obliged.
Compression shorts, panties, a sports bra, and socks splashed down into the bin, which Cassie then closed again. The bin picked up its speed of rotation and water flow once more, and soon your body was smacking and crashing against the wet fabric of Maddie’s clothes at a breakneck pace. Each impact slightly squished you into whatever you hit, before the flow of water inevitably pulled you away.
When the washing finally subsided and Cassie returned once more, you had just been thrown into an impact against the pair of blazing red panties Maddie had apparently been wearing while exercising. You splatted into the back of the panties, near the middle-left, facing out. While tumbling aimlessly around the bin, you’d partially reformed, and now mostly resembled your old self, albeit cartoonishly squashed into a spread-eagle position.
Lifting out the panties, Cassie unfortunately held them away from her, and was thusly unable to see you once more. She merely tossed them into the dryer along with everything else from the wash. Starting up the drying cycle, you and the rest of the wet clothes, along with the seat cushion, started to be blasted by hot air and tumbled about. The entire process lasted another hour.
As the dryer wound down, you noticed with no small amount of worry that you were still quite stuck to the panties. You hadn’t reformed in the slightest, and in fact felt even more glued to the fabric. Every attempt to so much as twitch was futile, and you were similarly incapable of speaking. All you could do was shift your eyes from side-to-side, and just barely managed to blink. You could only hope that was enough to be noticed.
Unfortunately, fate was apparently finished throwing you a bone, as it wasn’t Cassie who opened the dryer, but Kimberly. The older woman grabbed the panties you were stuck to, along with the other clothes, and brought you out into the light of the washroom. She folded and laid the sports bra, compression shorts, and socks in a basket filled with other similar articles of clothing, clearly destined for Maddie’s room. For some reason though, she kept you in her hands.
The purpose dawned on you a second later, and you began internally screaming. Against the wall of the washroom, Kimberly had set up an ironing board, where a red-hot iron was already plugged in and heating up. You fought with every last ounce of your strength, even as Kimberly laid the panties out on the ironing board, with you facing up at her towering figure above you. You blinked furiously, and shifted your eyes around so much it’d be comical in a less dire situation.
You were bounced up and down as Cassie descended the stairs and headed for the washroom. She passed the rest of her family along the way, and each Smalls woman was totally unaware of who Cassie was escorting to the washing machine. Sophie just sat on her chair giggling at her social media feed, the picture of perfect innocence and joy. Never in a million years would she, on her own, guess what she had done to you.
In the washroom, Cassie flipped open the lid to the washing machine and dropped the cushion in. It landed flat, with you facing outward and up, allowing you a few more fleeting seconds to gaze up at your beloved giantess fiancée and beg her to notice you. Sadly, Sophie’s ass had smeared you a good deal into the cushion, obscuring your recognizable features, which resulted in you failing to stand out to Cassie during her quick glance.
Instead, you could only watch your fiancée turn on the freezing water, pour in some detergent, then slam the lid shut. Soon, only the roaring of the water and the rumbling of the spinning bin filled your senses, and quickly you and the entire cushion were submerged and lost in the churning sea of the washing machine.
However, for some inexplicable reason, fate was shining down on you that day, as only a minute into the wash, your face caught on a miniscule, sharp protrusion in the side of the bin. Presumably some chip in the metallic surface, it dug into your squishy chest like a knife, generating excruciating pain. At the same time, the metal chip digging into your body held you in place, even while the spinning bin and rushing waters pushed the cushion along its rotation.
In seconds, your body, unable to be in two places at once, was ripped cleanly (albeit painfully) from the cushion, freeing you from the imprisonment Sophie’s bubble butt had forced upon you. With less holding you down, you too popped free from the clutches of the metallic, jagged point, and started blowing around in the water like a little weightless feather helplessly adrift. Still, it beat being glued to the cushion.
Before you could truly celebrate, however, the spinning bin slowed down as the lid to the washing machine was opened once more. Under the water, you couldn’t hear or see anything, but up above, Cassie had an armful of sweaty workout clothes, courtesy of Maddie, who had recently finished an intense exercise routine out in the yard. Seeing as how the wash was already going, she’d asked Cassie to add her stuff in with the cushion, and Cassie graciously obliged.
Compression shorts, panties, a sports bra, and socks splashed down into the bin, which Cassie then closed again. The bin picked up its speed of rotation and water flow once more, and soon your body was smacking and crashing against the wet fabric of Maddie’s clothes at a breakneck pace. Each impact slightly squished you into whatever you hit, before the flow of water inevitably pulled you away.
When the washing finally subsided and Cassie returned once more, you had just been thrown into an impact against the pair of blazing red panties Maddie had apparently been wearing while exercising. You splatted into the back of the panties, near the middle-left, facing out. While tumbling aimlessly around the bin, you’d partially reformed, and now mostly resembled your old self, albeit cartoonishly squashed into a spread-eagle position.
Lifting out the panties, Cassie unfortunately held them away from her, and was thusly unable to see you once more. She merely tossed them into the dryer along with everything else from the wash. Starting up the drying cycle, you and the rest of the wet clothes, along with the seat cushion, started to be blasted by hot air and tumbled about. The entire process lasted another hour.
As the dryer wound down, you noticed with no small amount of worry that you were still quite stuck to the panties. You hadn’t reformed in the slightest, and in fact felt even more glued to the fabric. Every attempt to so much as twitch was futile, and you were similarly incapable of speaking. All you could do was shift your eyes from side-to-side, and just barely managed to blink. You could only hope that was enough to be noticed.
Unfortunately, fate was apparently finished throwing you a bone, as it wasn’t Cassie who opened the dryer, but Kimberly. The older woman grabbed the panties you were stuck to, along with the other clothes, and brought you out into the light of the washroom. She folded and laid the sports bra, compression shorts, and socks in a basket filled with other similar articles of clothing, clearly destined for Maddie’s room. For some reason though, she kept you in her hands.
The purpose dawned on you a second later, and you began internally screaming. Against the wall of the washroom, Kimberly had set up an ironing board, where a red-hot iron was already plugged in and heating up. You fought with every last ounce of your strength, even as Kimberly laid the panties out on the ironing board, with you facing up at her towering figure above you. You blinked furiously, and shifted your eyes around so much it’d be comical in a less dire situation.
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March 28, 2025
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