tf virus ch. 13 cont.
Giantess/Transformation Short Stories
chapter 15
by
copier
· original author:
lifesaver
Your heart—or whatever passed for it in your current form—sank. “The… washing machine?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.
Charlotte bit her lip, her guilt evident. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I was already planning on doing a load of laundry, and I thought…” She trailed off, her hands still resting on you. “I mean, it’s the easiest way to get you clean, right?”
You didn’t respond immediately, the reality of what she was suggesting sinking in. The washing machine. A cold, mechanical process that would toss you around with no regard for your comfort or sanity. The thought was enough to make your seams crawl.
“I… I was hoping maybe you could clean me up in the shower,” you said finally, your voice hesitant. “With you. I mean, it would be… more personal. And maybe less… intense.”
Charlotte’s brow furrowed, and she looked at you with a mixture of surprise and discomfort. “In the shower?” she repeated, her tone uncertain. “Oliver, I don’t know if that’s… I mean, it’s a little weird, don’t you think?”
“Weird?” you countered, your voice rising slightly. “Charlotte, I’m literally your thong. I’ve been stuck between your cheeks all day. I think we’re way past weird at this point.”
She winced, her hands dropping to her sides. “Okay, fair point,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But still, it’s just… I don’t know how to clean you like that. And the washing machine would be so much easier.”
“Easier for you,” you pointed out, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “But what about me? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be thrown around in there? To be submerged in water and soap and then spun at a hundred miles an hour?”
Charlotte’s expression shifted, her guilt deepening. “Oliver, I… I didn’t think about that,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know how else to do it.”
You sighed, the tension in your seams easing slightly. “I get it,” you said, your voice softer now. “It’s not like this is a normal situation for either of us. But… can we at least try something else? I mean, can’t you just… rinse me off or something?”
Charlotte hesitated, her gaze flickering between you and the pile of laundry. Finally, she nodded, though her reluctance was still evident. “Okay,” she said, her voice a little resigned. “I’ll try. But if it doesn’t work, we might have to… you know… reconsider.”
You didn’t respond, the unspoken threat of the washing machine looming over you like a dark cloud. But for now, you were willing to take whatever small victories you could get.
Charlotte straightened, her hands moving to your waistband again. “Alright,” she said, her tone more decisive now. “Let’s get this over with.” She tugged you down, peeling you off her body with a careful but firm motion. You felt the cool air of the room hit you, a welcome relief after hours of being pressed against her skin.
She held you up, her nose wrinkling slightly as she surveyed your crumpled, sweat-soaked form. “You really are a mess,” she muttered, though there was no malice in her voice. More like resigned amusement.
You didn’t respond, too focused on the sensation of being free from her body, even if only temporarily. Charlotte turned, carrying you toward the bathroom, her steps slow and deliberate. She set you down on the edge of the sink, her hands lingering for a moment before she turned to the shower.
As she adjusted the water temperature, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she’d be careful, gentle. Maybe you’d finally get some relief from the day’s ordeal.
Charlotte stepped into the shower, the steam already beginning to fill the room. She turned back to you, her expression unreadable as she reached out to pick you up again. “Ready?” she asked, her voice soft.
You hesitated, the reality of what was about to happen hitting you all over again. But there was no going back now. “Ready,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.
Charlotte nodded, her fingers tightening around you as she pulled you into the shower. The warm water hit you immediately, the sensation both soothing and overwhelming. You clung to her hands, unsure of what would happen next.
And then, as the water cascaded over you, Charlotte’s voice broke through the haze. “Oliver,” she said, her tone both apologetic and resolute, “this might… get a little awkward.”
Charlotte bit her lip, her guilt evident. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I was already planning on doing a load of laundry, and I thought…” She trailed off, her hands still resting on you. “I mean, it’s the easiest way to get you clean, right?”
You didn’t respond immediately, the reality of what she was suggesting sinking in. The washing machine. A cold, mechanical process that would toss you around with no regard for your comfort or sanity. The thought was enough to make your seams crawl.
“I… I was hoping maybe you could clean me up in the shower,” you said finally, your voice hesitant. “With you. I mean, it would be… more personal. And maybe less… intense.”
Charlotte’s brow furrowed, and she looked at you with a mixture of surprise and discomfort. “In the shower?” she repeated, her tone uncertain. “Oliver, I don’t know if that’s… I mean, it’s a little weird, don’t you think?”
“Weird?” you countered, your voice rising slightly. “Charlotte, I’m literally your thong. I’ve been stuck between your cheeks all day. I think we’re way past weird at this point.”
She winced, her hands dropping to her sides. “Okay, fair point,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But still, it’s just… I don’t know how to clean you like that. And the washing machine would be so much easier.”
“Easier for you,” you pointed out, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “But what about me? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be thrown around in there? To be submerged in water and soap and then spun at a hundred miles an hour?”
Charlotte’s expression shifted, her guilt deepening. “Oliver, I… I didn’t think about that,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know how else to do it.”
You sighed, the tension in your seams easing slightly. “I get it,” you said, your voice softer now. “It’s not like this is a normal situation for either of us. But… can we at least try something else? I mean, can’t you just… rinse me off or something?”
Charlotte hesitated, her gaze flickering between you and the pile of laundry. Finally, she nodded, though her reluctance was still evident. “Okay,” she said, her voice a little resigned. “I’ll try. But if it doesn’t work, we might have to… you know… reconsider.”
You didn’t respond, the unspoken threat of the washing machine looming over you like a dark cloud. But for now, you were willing to take whatever small victories you could get.
Charlotte straightened, her hands moving to your waistband again. “Alright,” she said, her tone more decisive now. “Let’s get this over with.” She tugged you down, peeling you off her body with a careful but firm motion. You felt the cool air of the room hit you, a welcome relief after hours of being pressed against her skin.
She held you up, her nose wrinkling slightly as she surveyed your crumpled, sweat-soaked form. “You really are a mess,” she muttered, though there was no malice in her voice. More like resigned amusement.
You didn’t respond, too focused on the sensation of being free from her body, even if only temporarily. Charlotte turned, carrying you toward the bathroom, her steps slow and deliberate. She set you down on the edge of the sink, her hands lingering for a moment before she turned to the shower.
As she adjusted the water temperature, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she’d be careful, gentle. Maybe you’d finally get some relief from the day’s ordeal.
Charlotte stepped into the shower, the steam already beginning to fill the room. She turned back to you, her expression unreadable as she reached out to pick you up again. “Ready?” she asked, her voice soft.
You hesitated, the reality of what was about to happen hitting you all over again. But there was no going back now. “Ready,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.
Charlotte nodded, her fingers tightening around you as she pulled you into the shower. The warm water hit you immediately, the sensation both soothing and overwhelming. You clung to her hands, unsure of what would happen next.
And then, as the water cascaded over you, Charlotte’s voice broke through the haze. “Oliver,” she said, her tone both apologetic and resolute, “this might… get a little awkward.”
229 views
·
March 28, 2025
Log in to comment