Yakima's Underwear
My Shrunken Life (Re-Upload)
chapter 21
by
Bobob1
You, with great effort, managed to peel your gaze off of Yakima’s absolutely massive chest, and scrolled your eyes right up to her huge, beautiful face. However, you immediately noticed that her attention was on something above you, and not you yourself. You realized that she still hadn’t seen you yet, which wasn’t too surprising. You cleared your throat and prepared to announce your presence.
Of course, if you had been paying more attention, you could’ve avoided the disaster that struck a moment later. Yakima grabbed her discarded bra and panty with one hand, and lifted the dirty lingerie into the air. One of the cups of her bra swung limply, and your miniscule body was scooped up into the cup in an instant.
You didn’t even have time to cry out in panic as your one-inch form rolled against the fabric of the cup of Yakima’s bra. To make matters worse, Yakima grabbed the cup with her other free hand, pushing her dirty laundry into a more compact shape. The two cups of the bra came together to form one, ludicrously big orb shape, sealing you inside like a pokemon within a pokeball.
Completely oblivious to what she had just done, Yakima strolled out of her room and headed downstairs. She waved hello to her sister, and gave a quick, polite, bow to Claire and Sarah, before heading into the basement. Downstairs, she saw Mary in the middle of emptying in the dryer, and folded still-warm clothes into separate baskets. Mary spotted Yakima right away, and jumped to her feet.
“Do you need me to wash this underwear for you dear?” Your mother asked, smiling.
“I can do it.” Yakima said, not wanting to impose.
“Nonsense. It’s no trouble at all.” Mary insisted, grabbing Yakima’s dirty bra and panty from her. “Besides, I just finished a load of clothes. The washing machine is prepped and ready to go.”
“Thank you so much.” Yakima bowed again, and headed back upstairs.
Unaware of the tiny prisoner contained within the ball of underwear, Mary tossed Yakima’s unmentionables into the washing machine. The bra and panty unwrapped upon hitting the cold, metallic bottom of the washing machine. Your tiny body rolled free, and you quickly scrambled to your feet and looked up out of the metallic barrel you had been dropped into. You opened your mouth to shout up to your mother for help.
Your words cut off immediately as a torrent of dark blue laundry detergent splashed down into the washing machine. Far up above, you caught a half-second glance of your mother, peaceful smile on her face, and the bottle of detergent tipped over into the washing machine. Then, the wave of detergent smacked into you, knocking you onto the ground, sweeping you away. You choked and gagged on the sticky blue substance.
All light faded from inside the metal barrel, as you heard the slam of the washing machine’s lid. You froze in fear, coughing up the last bits of detergent that had flooded into your mouth. A dreadful moment passed, and then you heard the sound of faint clicking, and the press of a button. A shrill scream escaped your mouth as water began to pour into the washing machine, and the barrel began to spin.
As the water filled up the washing machine, and the waters were churned in circles by the spinning barrel, you fought to keep yourself above water. Your efforts were futile though, and you were eventually sucked under the waves with a loud cry. Your small body was tossed round and round, the rushing waters flipping you head over heels repeatedly.
Your body kept slapping against the wet fabric of Yakima’s bra and panties, though you could hardly tell anything apart at this point. You were undergoing intense sensory overload at the moment, and you were on the verge of passing out. Finally, one particularly powerful wave sent you crashing directly into the metal sides of the washing machine’s barrel. Your tiny body was squished flat, and you slipped into unconsciousness as your now paper-thin form floated towards Yakima’s lingerie.
Once the wash cycle had ended, Mary attempted to quickly shift Yakima’s clothes from the washing machine and into the dryer, only to find that the dryer had broken down. Sighing, Mary scurried outside, carrying Yakima’s underwear with her. She approached the clothes line that stretched across the side of the house’s backyard, and pinned the bra and panty onto the line. Thankfully, the sun was incredibly bright today, and the temperature was ninety-five degrees.
Mary strolled back inside, leaving the underwear to dry on the line under the overbearing heat from the sun. Unbeknownst to her, your tiny form was currently adhered like glue to Yakima’s lingerie. Your squishy body, flattened tightly to the fabric of your new guest’s clothing, began to bond with the fabric under the intense heat from the sun. As your unconscious mind slept, your body began to fuse with the underwear, bringing about your terrible new fate.
The question is, where are you bonding to?
Of course, if you had been paying more attention, you could’ve avoided the disaster that struck a moment later. Yakima grabbed her discarded bra and panty with one hand, and lifted the dirty lingerie into the air. One of the cups of her bra swung limply, and your miniscule body was scooped up into the cup in an instant.
You didn’t even have time to cry out in panic as your one-inch form rolled against the fabric of the cup of Yakima’s bra. To make matters worse, Yakima grabbed the cup with her other free hand, pushing her dirty laundry into a more compact shape. The two cups of the bra came together to form one, ludicrously big orb shape, sealing you inside like a pokemon within a pokeball.
Completely oblivious to what she had just done, Yakima strolled out of her room and headed downstairs. She waved hello to her sister, and gave a quick, polite, bow to Claire and Sarah, before heading into the basement. Downstairs, she saw Mary in the middle of emptying in the dryer, and folded still-warm clothes into separate baskets. Mary spotted Yakima right away, and jumped to her feet.
“Do you need me to wash this underwear for you dear?” Your mother asked, smiling.
“I can do it.” Yakima said, not wanting to impose.
“Nonsense. It’s no trouble at all.” Mary insisted, grabbing Yakima’s dirty bra and panty from her. “Besides, I just finished a load of clothes. The washing machine is prepped and ready to go.”
“Thank you so much.” Yakima bowed again, and headed back upstairs.
Unaware of the tiny prisoner contained within the ball of underwear, Mary tossed Yakima’s unmentionables into the washing machine. The bra and panty unwrapped upon hitting the cold, metallic bottom of the washing machine. Your tiny body rolled free, and you quickly scrambled to your feet and looked up out of the metallic barrel you had been dropped into. You opened your mouth to shout up to your mother for help.
Your words cut off immediately as a torrent of dark blue laundry detergent splashed down into the washing machine. Far up above, you caught a half-second glance of your mother, peaceful smile on her face, and the bottle of detergent tipped over into the washing machine. Then, the wave of detergent smacked into you, knocking you onto the ground, sweeping you away. You choked and gagged on the sticky blue substance.
All light faded from inside the metal barrel, as you heard the slam of the washing machine’s lid. You froze in fear, coughing up the last bits of detergent that had flooded into your mouth. A dreadful moment passed, and then you heard the sound of faint clicking, and the press of a button. A shrill scream escaped your mouth as water began to pour into the washing machine, and the barrel began to spin.
As the water filled up the washing machine, and the waters were churned in circles by the spinning barrel, you fought to keep yourself above water. Your efforts were futile though, and you were eventually sucked under the waves with a loud cry. Your small body was tossed round and round, the rushing waters flipping you head over heels repeatedly.
Your body kept slapping against the wet fabric of Yakima’s bra and panties, though you could hardly tell anything apart at this point. You were undergoing intense sensory overload at the moment, and you were on the verge of passing out. Finally, one particularly powerful wave sent you crashing directly into the metal sides of the washing machine’s barrel. Your tiny body was squished flat, and you slipped into unconsciousness as your now paper-thin form floated towards Yakima’s lingerie.
Once the wash cycle had ended, Mary attempted to quickly shift Yakima’s clothes from the washing machine and into the dryer, only to find that the dryer had broken down. Sighing, Mary scurried outside, carrying Yakima’s underwear with her. She approached the clothes line that stretched across the side of the house’s backyard, and pinned the bra and panty onto the line. Thankfully, the sun was incredibly bright today, and the temperature was ninety-five degrees.
Mary strolled back inside, leaving the underwear to dry on the line under the overbearing heat from the sun. Unbeknownst to her, your tiny form was currently adhered like glue to Yakima’s lingerie. Your squishy body, flattened tightly to the fabric of your new guest’s clothing, began to bond with the fabric under the intense heat from the sun. As your unconscious mind slept, your body began to fuse with the underwear, bringing about your terrible new fate.
The question is, where are you bonding to?
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April 23, 2025
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