Looking smart for Kimberly
One Foot Tall Fiancé
chapter 8
by
copier
· original author:
kentwolf
"WoW, this would be amazing fabric for that formal skirt Kimberly wanted" You heard the colossal woman say, a smile on her lips as she spoke the words that filled you with a cold dread. Hearing that, you tried desperatly to twitch or squirm, any sign to this lady that you were not mere stretchy fabric, but a person who did not want to become a garment for his future mother in law. Unfortunatly for you however, Irena's ass had punished your body so intensely and for so long, you had no energy left to twitch after pulling free from her. She laid you out on the tabletop, smoothing you flat as she estimated your length and size. All you could do is stare up at her helplessly.
Wanting to see if she could make this sheet of fabric stretch a bit bigger, Irena turned on a small iron and when it heated up within thirty seconds, she ran it smoothly over you. You mentally cried out in pain as the heat and pressure burnt and crushed you, Irena putting pressure on you to try to make you stretch out, which worked. It also turned you slightly pinkish from the heat, though Irena failed to notice this in her eagerness. You didn't even have time to close your eyes as the iron ran over them, burning you and blinding you briefly. When your vision came back, you discovered your eyes wouldn't close, the pressure and heat had effectivly crushed them open, unable to move your field of vision or blink at all.
Once that was finished, Irena hummed to herself as she expertly began folding you at the edges, carrying you over to her sewing machine. Your vision swung around as she moved you, unable to see where she was taking you as she laid you face down. You felt a pinch before the deafening sounds and stabs of the sewing machine springing to life. Irena calmly feeding you through the machine as she worked on the hem and seams of the skirt she was making. If you could speak right now you would be screaming out in pain as each stab of the needle threaded you to the rest of you. Your body throbbed with the heat of residual pain as she held you up, checking you hung right and weren't stitched wrong.
With a smile, she nodded to herself and carried you over to a bowl, which she filled with something that smelt bad, like bleach. There was a reason for that of course, it was bleach. With no thought about the fabric in her hand, she dropped you in the bowl and stirred it slowly with a wooden stick. The bleach stung you all over, especially the eyes that you couldn't close. However, there was nothing you could do, the stitching that held you in this new shape was also effectivly stopping your body from reforming. All you could do was try to endure your bleach bath.
Somehow, you managed to remain concious as the hours passed, Irena had only stirred you occasionally, likely going off to do other things and coming back now and then to check on your progress. Eventually however, she fished you out with the stick and let the residual bleach drip back into the bowl. She admired her work. If you could have seen yourself, you would be panicing more, though thanks to the bleach everything was a stinging blur at the moment. You were totally bleach white. As white as a sheet of paper, as white as freshly fallen snow. No visible features of any kind.
She left you pegged up to dry out over night, you're vision slowly returning, though the room was dark anyway. You tried to move, to squirm, but you could barely twitch at all, your stitching holding you tight. You tried to pass the hours thinking about getting back to Cassie and her family. You couldn't believe this woman had mistaken you for cloth, but given your state at the time, it wasn't unreasonable. Eventually morning came, you heard the distant sounds of Irena and her family having breakfast and doing things around the house, before she returned to the room and your limited field of vision.
"Right, lets get this skirt finished shall we" She said to herself, clapping her hands as she strode over to you. You felt her fingers feel at you, checking you had dried out as she smiled, before unclipping you from the pegs.
You felt weird as she suddenly tucked you inside out, leaving you to stare at the pure whiteness of your own body. You were shocked to see it, but the pain of sudden pins distracted you. You felt some sort of soft fabric being pinned against your back before once more, you were taken to the sewing machine and put through that torture. Once that fabric was firmly stitched to you, you heard a zipper being undone, more painful pin pricks and then more stitching. When she flipped you the right way around again, you were now a real skirt. Your "fabric" made the outer layer, with a inner layer of soft, silky satin and a little silver zipper to the side. You now looked the part of a formal skirt. Irena admired you once more.
"Kimberly is going to love wearing this to work." She said proudly. She tucked you over one arm as you realised how screwed you were, if you really looked like the real thing, how long would it take for someone to find you...would they find you?
Wanting to see if she could make this sheet of fabric stretch a bit bigger, Irena turned on a small iron and when it heated up within thirty seconds, she ran it smoothly over you. You mentally cried out in pain as the heat and pressure burnt and crushed you, Irena putting pressure on you to try to make you stretch out, which worked. It also turned you slightly pinkish from the heat, though Irena failed to notice this in her eagerness. You didn't even have time to close your eyes as the iron ran over them, burning you and blinding you briefly. When your vision came back, you discovered your eyes wouldn't close, the pressure and heat had effectivly crushed them open, unable to move your field of vision or blink at all.
Once that was finished, Irena hummed to herself as she expertly began folding you at the edges, carrying you over to her sewing machine. Your vision swung around as she moved you, unable to see where she was taking you as she laid you face down. You felt a pinch before the deafening sounds and stabs of the sewing machine springing to life. Irena calmly feeding you through the machine as she worked on the hem and seams of the skirt she was making. If you could speak right now you would be screaming out in pain as each stab of the needle threaded you to the rest of you. Your body throbbed with the heat of residual pain as she held you up, checking you hung right and weren't stitched wrong.
With a smile, she nodded to herself and carried you over to a bowl, which she filled with something that smelt bad, like bleach. There was a reason for that of course, it was bleach. With no thought about the fabric in her hand, she dropped you in the bowl and stirred it slowly with a wooden stick. The bleach stung you all over, especially the eyes that you couldn't close. However, there was nothing you could do, the stitching that held you in this new shape was also effectivly stopping your body from reforming. All you could do was try to endure your bleach bath.
Somehow, you managed to remain concious as the hours passed, Irena had only stirred you occasionally, likely going off to do other things and coming back now and then to check on your progress. Eventually however, she fished you out with the stick and let the residual bleach drip back into the bowl. She admired her work. If you could have seen yourself, you would be panicing more, though thanks to the bleach everything was a stinging blur at the moment. You were totally bleach white. As white as a sheet of paper, as white as freshly fallen snow. No visible features of any kind.
She left you pegged up to dry out over night, you're vision slowly returning, though the room was dark anyway. You tried to move, to squirm, but you could barely twitch at all, your stitching holding you tight. You tried to pass the hours thinking about getting back to Cassie and her family. You couldn't believe this woman had mistaken you for cloth, but given your state at the time, it wasn't unreasonable. Eventually morning came, you heard the distant sounds of Irena and her family having breakfast and doing things around the house, before she returned to the room and your limited field of vision.
"Right, lets get this skirt finished shall we" She said to herself, clapping her hands as she strode over to you. You felt her fingers feel at you, checking you had dried out as she smiled, before unclipping you from the pegs.
You felt weird as she suddenly tucked you inside out, leaving you to stare at the pure whiteness of your own body. You were shocked to see it, but the pain of sudden pins distracted you. You felt some sort of soft fabric being pinned against your back before once more, you were taken to the sewing machine and put through that torture. Once that fabric was firmly stitched to you, you heard a zipper being undone, more painful pin pricks and then more stitching. When she flipped you the right way around again, you were now a real skirt. Your "fabric" made the outer layer, with a inner layer of soft, silky satin and a little silver zipper to the side. You now looked the part of a formal skirt. Irena admired you once more.
"Kimberly is going to love wearing this to work." She said proudly. She tucked you over one arm as you realised how screwed you were, if you really looked like the real thing, how long would it take for someone to find you...would they find you?
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March 28, 2025
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