Fated to Become a One Piece
One Foot Tall Fiancé
chapter 14
by
copier
· original author:
azazel8
Your heart dropped as the bikini top you had been paired with was placed beside you and Irina looked at you with eyes that spoke only of possessiveness and not a hint of recognition, the words that poured out of her chilling you to your core. “So, I’d like to have this bikini set fashioned into a one piece please. And, if possible, I’d like you to treat the top so it’s as comfortable as the bottom.” Horrified, you tried to vibrate or at least twitch to remind this oblivious woman that you were more than just an object, but any movement you could muster was instantly crushed out of you as the busty airhead picked you up and started tugging and stretching you to display your gummy qualities. “See. It stretches so well that I just know it won’t break no matter how much punishment I put it through, and the fabric is so comfortable I could swear it’s literally breathing sometimes. Absorbent too.” A single finger ran down your face. “Look, I was wearing these all day and they’re already dry.”
The tailor looked vaguely intrigued, reaching out a finger to run along your form. “Hmm.” She shrugged. “Not sure I’ve seen this material before but I’ll do my best. I’ll fashion the one piece for you and see if I can get it to the same consistency. Should be ready for pick up in about an hour.” That was good enough for Irina apparently as she beamed and offered her thanks before turning to leave with Kimberly. You could have sworn that the eyes of the Smalls matriarch lingered on you for a moment, but soon your only sight of the two was their departing rears as they bounced out of the store, leaving you behind to face the unknowing blonde and her looming attempts to refashion you.
Despite past experience, you had trouble believing that your misfortune was truly this bad as you were lifted again and played with by the curious tailor, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she worked you over with inquisitive fingers, picking at your edges and pinching your face. “Weird. It’s so malleable yet it keeps its general shape, even if the edging could use some work.” You were left hanging from one hand as the other reached down to play with the top, a frown coming to the woman’s face as she confirmed her suspicions. “Not even close. There’s no way I can make the top match the bottoms like this. Not to mention all the other material I’d need to make a one piece. Unless…” Once again gripped in both hands, you were bunched up into twin fists and then pulled hard, groaning silently as you stretched out until the blonde had spread her arms as far as she could.
You could almost see the ideas forming in this woman’s head as her shocked expression slowly twisted into a smile. More than anything, you wanted to call out in protest, but your mouth had been smeared and stretched so badly that you could no longer form words. Allowed to snap back into your previous shape, you could only watch helplessly as Kimberly’s spare top was swept off the counter into a box labelled ‘spares’ and you alone were carried deeper into the store. Abject terror consumed you as deft fingers worked to undo the knots that Irina had tied in your limbs, returning you to a stretched out strip of ‘fabric’ supported by four noodle-like ‘strings’. Slapped down onto a new surface, you stared up at the fluorescent lights above before your vision was blocked by a heavy clamp sliding into place above you. Your last sight was a descending block of metal before it crushed what remained of your face into mush, the rest of your extremities following one-by-one as you felt more clamps fastening you in place, their contoured surfaces scrapping painfully across your flesh.
The vice pressure on your flattened skull gave you such a mind-splitting headache that you almost didn’t notice as the rest of you began to be stretched out worse that you had ever experienced before, more and more clamps being added as each and every part of you was pushed to its limits. Even the edges of your face were seized and dragged away, one freed eye catching a brief glimpse of the moving blonde as she slid another fastener into place before being returned to darkness when the clamp came down, only for the process to repeat all over again for the other. By the time it was over, you felt like parts of your body were miles apart, or like you were in multiple places at once.
As you struggled to focus through the unrelenting pressure of the clamps the first stich caught you by surprise, red hot pain shooting through you as the needle penetrated your skin. No blood flowed out as your gummy body morphed around the metal probe, but your mind alerted you to the intrusion with the same spike of pain that any normal person would experience were a hole to be suddenly punched through them. If you were still capable of the task you would have screamed in protest, but as it was your screaming remained localised to your own mind as that first jab proved to be just one of many. The punctures were interspersed with feelings of your body being twisted and moulded against your will, corded into stronger bonds in some areas while spread out and flattened in others. Clamps were undone and reapplied in sequence as your unknowing tormentor worked her way around, your tortured form slowly beginning to shrink as you were set into your new visage.
Finally the clamps on your head came loose, and strong hands descended to work the vestiges of your face into some new shape. Your unseen mouth was stretched wide while insistent thumbs worked at any trace that you had ever existed, violently scrubbing out any signs of imperfection. The needle returned as your face was inverted and spikes of pain lanced down either side of your skull before a final row of stitches came within millimetres of taking out your eyes. With that, finally, it seemed that your suffering would finally relent. For a moment you almost lost consciousness now that the immediate threat had passed, but the residual pain pounding through you prevented that.
As the seconds ticked by, you waited for your body to start pulling itself back together, hoping that perhaps your natural reformation process would convince the tailor to give you another look and somehow discover your true identity. Soon though, you realised that your contraction had stopped, the stitches catching in your skin and keeping you well spread out. To your horror you found that you were unable to move even slightly. Stretched to its limits and stuck in place, your body was held too tightly now to even allow the beginning of your reformation. Not even the smallest of twitches.
Completely unaware of the horror she had just inflicted on an innocent young man, the blonde ran a single hand along what felt like your back, a slow smile crossing her face. “So versatile. I’d love to have some more of this to work with. Or maybe just to wear it myself.” She shook her head at that last bit, bitting her lip as she suppressed the miscreant thoughts she was having about a customer’s property. Stealing from a customer was an excellent way to get sued and find yourself out of a job and out of pocket, no matter how much she might want to keep her latest masterpiece to herself.
Staring up, you tried to think of some way to communicate to as you were lifted and taken over to the nearest rack to await your ‘owner’s’ return. Hung alongside other outfits, you turned in place for a moment before finally catching sight of yourself in a nearby mirror, a fresh wave of terror washing over you as your worse fears were confirmed. Reflected back at you was a rack of tailored swimsuits, and there, in the middle, a new one piece composed entirely of your tortured, stretched-out, body. If nothing else the tailor knew her trade, not a single stitch line visible to reveal how you were made.
As far as you could tell your face remained as the seat of the swimwear, but had now been spread out to cover a larger surface area. Your eyes and forehead had been folded back to provide a strong waistline and stitched to the back of your skull, so that you were now looking at the world upside down from the back of the suit, while your mouth and nose remained inside. Meanwhile, your torso had been stretched out and stitched together with your arms to cover the abdomen and chest, your shoulders sewn to your temples to keep your face spread and waiting to be filled, while your hands, joined together at the thumbs, had been stitched up and spread out to cup your owner’s breasts.
The blonde had taken a different approach with your legs, focusing on length as opposed to width. Each limb had been stretched and twisted to wrap around the neck and then criss-crossed to form the back of the outfit, periodically stitched back into your sides with each pass. Finally, your feet had been sewn to your forehead on either side of your eyes, completing the get up and sealing you in. Your whole body, stretched beyond its natural limits, had taken on a reddish hue, mixing with the natural tan colour of your skin to produce a gradient of colour that complimented the summer sun.
Horrified beyond measure, you struggled to come to terms with your fate as you watched the tailor move to and fro as she attended to other orders and customers, each ring of the store bell heralding your potential doom as some items disappeared and new ones were added. More than once you caught the blonde giving you a long look as she moved past, sometimes even stopping to compare you to another one piece as she sorted through a box of what appeared to be some surplus stock. Eventually though, the sound of familiar though indistinct voices from the shop front filtered back to you, and your tormentor returned once more to take you from your rack, staring at you for a long moment as she bit her lip once more. Eventually, she seemed to reach a decision as she turned and…
The tailor looked vaguely intrigued, reaching out a finger to run along your form. “Hmm.” She shrugged. “Not sure I’ve seen this material before but I’ll do my best. I’ll fashion the one piece for you and see if I can get it to the same consistency. Should be ready for pick up in about an hour.” That was good enough for Irina apparently as she beamed and offered her thanks before turning to leave with Kimberly. You could have sworn that the eyes of the Smalls matriarch lingered on you for a moment, but soon your only sight of the two was their departing rears as they bounced out of the store, leaving you behind to face the unknowing blonde and her looming attempts to refashion you.
Despite past experience, you had trouble believing that your misfortune was truly this bad as you were lifted again and played with by the curious tailor, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she worked you over with inquisitive fingers, picking at your edges and pinching your face. “Weird. It’s so malleable yet it keeps its general shape, even if the edging could use some work.” You were left hanging from one hand as the other reached down to play with the top, a frown coming to the woman’s face as she confirmed her suspicions. “Not even close. There’s no way I can make the top match the bottoms like this. Not to mention all the other material I’d need to make a one piece. Unless…” Once again gripped in both hands, you were bunched up into twin fists and then pulled hard, groaning silently as you stretched out until the blonde had spread her arms as far as she could.
You could almost see the ideas forming in this woman’s head as her shocked expression slowly twisted into a smile. More than anything, you wanted to call out in protest, but your mouth had been smeared and stretched so badly that you could no longer form words. Allowed to snap back into your previous shape, you could only watch helplessly as Kimberly’s spare top was swept off the counter into a box labelled ‘spares’ and you alone were carried deeper into the store. Abject terror consumed you as deft fingers worked to undo the knots that Irina had tied in your limbs, returning you to a stretched out strip of ‘fabric’ supported by four noodle-like ‘strings’. Slapped down onto a new surface, you stared up at the fluorescent lights above before your vision was blocked by a heavy clamp sliding into place above you. Your last sight was a descending block of metal before it crushed what remained of your face into mush, the rest of your extremities following one-by-one as you felt more clamps fastening you in place, their contoured surfaces scrapping painfully across your flesh.
The vice pressure on your flattened skull gave you such a mind-splitting headache that you almost didn’t notice as the rest of you began to be stretched out worse that you had ever experienced before, more and more clamps being added as each and every part of you was pushed to its limits. Even the edges of your face were seized and dragged away, one freed eye catching a brief glimpse of the moving blonde as she slid another fastener into place before being returned to darkness when the clamp came down, only for the process to repeat all over again for the other. By the time it was over, you felt like parts of your body were miles apart, or like you were in multiple places at once.
As you struggled to focus through the unrelenting pressure of the clamps the first stich caught you by surprise, red hot pain shooting through you as the needle penetrated your skin. No blood flowed out as your gummy body morphed around the metal probe, but your mind alerted you to the intrusion with the same spike of pain that any normal person would experience were a hole to be suddenly punched through them. If you were still capable of the task you would have screamed in protest, but as it was your screaming remained localised to your own mind as that first jab proved to be just one of many. The punctures were interspersed with feelings of your body being twisted and moulded against your will, corded into stronger bonds in some areas while spread out and flattened in others. Clamps were undone and reapplied in sequence as your unknowing tormentor worked her way around, your tortured form slowly beginning to shrink as you were set into your new visage.
Finally the clamps on your head came loose, and strong hands descended to work the vestiges of your face into some new shape. Your unseen mouth was stretched wide while insistent thumbs worked at any trace that you had ever existed, violently scrubbing out any signs of imperfection. The needle returned as your face was inverted and spikes of pain lanced down either side of your skull before a final row of stitches came within millimetres of taking out your eyes. With that, finally, it seemed that your suffering would finally relent. For a moment you almost lost consciousness now that the immediate threat had passed, but the residual pain pounding through you prevented that.
As the seconds ticked by, you waited for your body to start pulling itself back together, hoping that perhaps your natural reformation process would convince the tailor to give you another look and somehow discover your true identity. Soon though, you realised that your contraction had stopped, the stitches catching in your skin and keeping you well spread out. To your horror you found that you were unable to move even slightly. Stretched to its limits and stuck in place, your body was held too tightly now to even allow the beginning of your reformation. Not even the smallest of twitches.
Completely unaware of the horror she had just inflicted on an innocent young man, the blonde ran a single hand along what felt like your back, a slow smile crossing her face. “So versatile. I’d love to have some more of this to work with. Or maybe just to wear it myself.” She shook her head at that last bit, bitting her lip as she suppressed the miscreant thoughts she was having about a customer’s property. Stealing from a customer was an excellent way to get sued and find yourself out of a job and out of pocket, no matter how much she might want to keep her latest masterpiece to herself.
Staring up, you tried to think of some way to communicate to as you were lifted and taken over to the nearest rack to await your ‘owner’s’ return. Hung alongside other outfits, you turned in place for a moment before finally catching sight of yourself in a nearby mirror, a fresh wave of terror washing over you as your worse fears were confirmed. Reflected back at you was a rack of tailored swimsuits, and there, in the middle, a new one piece composed entirely of your tortured, stretched-out, body. If nothing else the tailor knew her trade, not a single stitch line visible to reveal how you were made.
As far as you could tell your face remained as the seat of the swimwear, but had now been spread out to cover a larger surface area. Your eyes and forehead had been folded back to provide a strong waistline and stitched to the back of your skull, so that you were now looking at the world upside down from the back of the suit, while your mouth and nose remained inside. Meanwhile, your torso had been stretched out and stitched together with your arms to cover the abdomen and chest, your shoulders sewn to your temples to keep your face spread and waiting to be filled, while your hands, joined together at the thumbs, had been stitched up and spread out to cup your owner’s breasts.
The blonde had taken a different approach with your legs, focusing on length as opposed to width. Each limb had been stretched and twisted to wrap around the neck and then criss-crossed to form the back of the outfit, periodically stitched back into your sides with each pass. Finally, your feet had been sewn to your forehead on either side of your eyes, completing the get up and sealing you in. Your whole body, stretched beyond its natural limits, had taken on a reddish hue, mixing with the natural tan colour of your skin to produce a gradient of colour that complimented the summer sun.
Horrified beyond measure, you struggled to come to terms with your fate as you watched the tailor move to and fro as she attended to other orders and customers, each ring of the store bell heralding your potential doom as some items disappeared and new ones were added. More than once you caught the blonde giving you a long look as she moved past, sometimes even stopping to compare you to another one piece as she sorted through a box of what appeared to be some surplus stock. Eventually though, the sound of familiar though indistinct voices from the shop front filtered back to you, and your tormentor returned once more to take you from your rack, staring at you for a long moment as she bit her lip once more. Eventually, she seemed to reach a decision as she turned and…
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March 28, 2025
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