Misguided Investigation
A Shrunken Roommate (Re-upload)
chapter 17
by
Bobob1
Finished gathering up her freshly cleaned articles of clothing, Quinn hefted her hamper off the ground and headed back upstairs to her room. You and the rest of the clothes were jostled around in her hamper as she trotted up the stairs, but it was honestly heaven compared to what you’d primarily been experiencing for the entire past week. You’d take a plush basket of silky lingerie over the dank confines of Quinn’s gargantuan rear end any day.
Once in her room, Quinn slid out of the simple shorts and shirt she was wearing, as well as the current pair of underwear she had on. She tossed the worn clothes into the newly emptied dirty laundry basket, and while still naked, began putting her freshly cleaned articles away, while also setting aside a new outfit to wear for the day.
Layer by layer, clothes were taken off of you, until finally light shone in and you were revealed to the world once more. Even a full week later, it was impossible to understate the overwhelming beauty that Quinn exuded, breathtakingly nude and towering above you in all her glory. Despite all the torment she’d put you through this last week (none of which she herself could be blamed for), your awe and growing feelings of adoration for her still soared high.
Of course, as she bent down and picked you up, and a small grin crossed her face, some of that love for Quinn faded in place of anxious resignation. Though her soft hands held you delicately as she carried you over to the side of her bed, it was painfully obvious the treatment wasn’t because of your secret sentient nature. No, after a week of hell, you knew Quinn was just excited to wear her new favorite miracle thong again.
Sure enough, after a few more minutes of sorting her clothes into various drawers and inside her closet, Quinn wandered back over to you. Scooping you off of her bed, you caught one more glimpse of Quinn’s beautiful face, a content and satisfied expression written there. The lack of recognition in her eyes still killed you, as you’d truly hoped she would eventually realize the truth and save you. Sadly, for the moment, all Quinn did was lower you to the ground, and then step her feet through the loops molded out of your stretched and contorted limbs.
You’d almost become accustomed to the experience by now, but that didn’t make it any less awful. Your mangled body barely made it up Quinn’s thick thighs and around her scrumptious booty, and as your arms and legs strained at their very limits to hug Quinn’s hips, most of your body vanished right into her butt crack, slipping into a world of heat, sweat, and stench. Everything was darkness and muffled noise, and hot flesh pressed in on you from all sides.
Your oblivious captor merely smiled at the soothing sensation of the stretchy thong settling into place, and with a happier smile then she’d ever show in public, went about slipping into the rest of her attire. Morgan had mentioned going on another run, so Quinn changed into a pair of compression shorts, as supportive a sports bra as one could buy with assets as large as Quinn’s, and a black tank-top.
No sooner had she changed than Morgan burst into the room, looking harried. Out of breath, the frantic brown-haired athlete stammered for a coherent sentence. “Q-Quinn…Quinn! The solvent didn’t work on Hunter!”
Your black-haired tormentor frowned (and also blushed lightly at Morgan having caught her in such an expressive mood). “Well…that’s weird, right? Let me see.”
Morgan thrust out her hands, wherein the green thong that had stolen your identity for the past week was lying. It was still soaking wet from the wash, but that was hardly the most notable thing about it. It appeared to have been burned a bit in a few places, the fabric singed and melting away. No doubt an adverse reaction with the solvent that was never intended for store-bought lingerie to handle.
At the same time, all Quinn had to do was lean forward a bit, and she could spot the clear strings of fabric clinging to the burned marks on the thong. Narrowing her eyes in confusion, Quinn picked the thong out of Morgan’s hands and pulled on it, testing its stability. In seconds, the thong began to fall apart into pieces, and more and more strands of fabric snapped loose.
Morgan slapped a hand to her mouth, face froze in horror, but Quinn only sighed. “This isn’t Hunter at all. It’s not even a tiny. Just a regular thong.” She explained, and Morgan’s rigid posture relaxed. Quinn was still annoyed, however. “This begs the question though. Where is Hunter if he isn’t the thong we all thought he was?”
From the hallway, a cheerful pink-haired head poked into the room. “Are we all talking about Hunter? Can one of us finally wear the little cutie?” Avery giggled, but genuine earnest shone in her eyes, illuminating her true intentions.
Morgan bit her lip nervously, and then looked at her twin sister. “Hey, Avery. You told me that you put Hunter into the wash last week, right? Because you found him on the table, and didn’t even bother to read the note?”
The thinly-veiled insult flew right over Avery’s vacuous head, and she merely tapped her chin in an adorably exaggerated show of thinking. “Hmm…did I do that? OMG, I actually totes forget!”
Quinn glared at her, but more out of concern for you than anger at her roommate. “You don’t remember? Did you even put him in the wash at all? Have we been looking in the wrong place all this time?”
Avery put a hand to her chest, mildly offended. “Hey! It was a whole week ago, you guys! You can’t be super duper cereal about me remembering, can you? Like, I just forget! I remember picking the thong up…oops, I mean Hunter…but then my mind is totes blank!”
Quinn and Morgan facepalmed near simultaneously, and then Morgan groaned out a reply to her sister’s scatterbrained antics. “Alright. Guess we need to dig through our lingerie, pick out every single green thong we own, and put them all in a wash cycle together with the solvent. Sound like a plan?”
Quinn nodded instantly, and though Avery hesitated for a moment with a sulky pout, she finally conceded. The three girls then dutifully picked through their underwear drawers, clean clothes baskets, and also dirty laundry to procure every green thong they could get a handle on. Altogether, they managed to scrounge up about six different green thongs. Morgan, wishing at least one was their wayward tiny roommate, walked off to start the new wash cycle.
Your captor, however, waited alone in the living room, and spared a quick uncertain glance at her hefty posterior, and the comfy, absorbent thong she knew was buried in between all that mass. A single, niggling thought nagged at her to double-check the true identity of her new favorite thong, but after a moment, Quinn forcefully shoved the thought aside.
From the facts that she knew of the situation, you were a completely green thong lost somewhere in their apartment, not the tan thong wedged up her crack and comfortably hugging her hips. She didn’t even begin to consider that the wash cycle had wiped away your green coloring, as she didn’t even know how exactly you’d been dyed green in the first place. Also, the embarrassment of facing the potential truth that she’d been wearing you so intimately for over a week was crushing, and so Quinn ignored her mind’s single hesitant concern, confident it was wrong.
Morgan then strolled back into the room, sighed, and ran her hand through her hair. “What a morning, huh? Still down for that run?” She threw Quinn a lopsided grin, and was a bit stunned to see Quinn shrug in acceptance.
“Yeah sure.” The black-haired giantess replied. “I could live with a bit of de-stressing.”
Morgan nodded eagerly. “Ah, sweet! You’re totally enjoying these runs now, aren’t you? I knew you could do it!”
“Didn’t say that.” Quinn grumbled, but with a small smile. “I’ve just gotten used to them. I walk and swim for hours a day at Sanderson Beach. Running is a similar amount of exertion, just with more effort in less time.” She began to stretch her legs. “Besides, it builds up my stamina, which will probably benefit my work.”
Morgan grinned and laughed. “How analytical of you, Quinn. What else did I expect, though? I’m just glad you’re having fun!” The athletic girl took the lead and slipped out the front door, with Quinn hot on her heels a moment later. After a few more stretches on the front lawn, the two girls took off down the sidewalk, jogging at a brisk but manageable pace, enjoying the wind in their hair and the vigor in their hearts, and drawing no shortage of stares from passerby’s.
Deep in your hellish prison, you were endless ground up by Quinn’s monumental ass cheeks, each step she took decimating your poor body. You were crushed tight from all sides by her hot flesh, dunked in buckets of sweat, and already absorbing copious amounts of bodily fluid and stench. Muffled as the outside world was to you, you hadn’t heard a word of the commotion this morning, and so as far as you knew, this torment was going to be your future for a very long time. And, in actuality, it very well could be.
*****
After the run finally ended, both girls stumbled into their apartment soaked in sweat, but feeling energized. Their enthusiasm faded, however, as Avery met them in the living room, a sopping bundle of destroyed green thongs in her arms. Obviously, not a single one of them was you.
Once in her room, Quinn slid out of the simple shorts and shirt she was wearing, as well as the current pair of underwear she had on. She tossed the worn clothes into the newly emptied dirty laundry basket, and while still naked, began putting her freshly cleaned articles away, while also setting aside a new outfit to wear for the day.
Layer by layer, clothes were taken off of you, until finally light shone in and you were revealed to the world once more. Even a full week later, it was impossible to understate the overwhelming beauty that Quinn exuded, breathtakingly nude and towering above you in all her glory. Despite all the torment she’d put you through this last week (none of which she herself could be blamed for), your awe and growing feelings of adoration for her still soared high.
Of course, as she bent down and picked you up, and a small grin crossed her face, some of that love for Quinn faded in place of anxious resignation. Though her soft hands held you delicately as she carried you over to the side of her bed, it was painfully obvious the treatment wasn’t because of your secret sentient nature. No, after a week of hell, you knew Quinn was just excited to wear her new favorite miracle thong again.
Sure enough, after a few more minutes of sorting her clothes into various drawers and inside her closet, Quinn wandered back over to you. Scooping you off of her bed, you caught one more glimpse of Quinn’s beautiful face, a content and satisfied expression written there. The lack of recognition in her eyes still killed you, as you’d truly hoped she would eventually realize the truth and save you. Sadly, for the moment, all Quinn did was lower you to the ground, and then step her feet through the loops molded out of your stretched and contorted limbs.
You’d almost become accustomed to the experience by now, but that didn’t make it any less awful. Your mangled body barely made it up Quinn’s thick thighs and around her scrumptious booty, and as your arms and legs strained at their very limits to hug Quinn’s hips, most of your body vanished right into her butt crack, slipping into a world of heat, sweat, and stench. Everything was darkness and muffled noise, and hot flesh pressed in on you from all sides.
Your oblivious captor merely smiled at the soothing sensation of the stretchy thong settling into place, and with a happier smile then she’d ever show in public, went about slipping into the rest of her attire. Morgan had mentioned going on another run, so Quinn changed into a pair of compression shorts, as supportive a sports bra as one could buy with assets as large as Quinn’s, and a black tank-top.
No sooner had she changed than Morgan burst into the room, looking harried. Out of breath, the frantic brown-haired athlete stammered for a coherent sentence. “Q-Quinn…Quinn! The solvent didn’t work on Hunter!”
Your black-haired tormentor frowned (and also blushed lightly at Morgan having caught her in such an expressive mood). “Well…that’s weird, right? Let me see.”
Morgan thrust out her hands, wherein the green thong that had stolen your identity for the past week was lying. It was still soaking wet from the wash, but that was hardly the most notable thing about it. It appeared to have been burned a bit in a few places, the fabric singed and melting away. No doubt an adverse reaction with the solvent that was never intended for store-bought lingerie to handle.
At the same time, all Quinn had to do was lean forward a bit, and she could spot the clear strings of fabric clinging to the burned marks on the thong. Narrowing her eyes in confusion, Quinn picked the thong out of Morgan’s hands and pulled on it, testing its stability. In seconds, the thong began to fall apart into pieces, and more and more strands of fabric snapped loose.
Morgan slapped a hand to her mouth, face froze in horror, but Quinn only sighed. “This isn’t Hunter at all. It’s not even a tiny. Just a regular thong.” She explained, and Morgan’s rigid posture relaxed. Quinn was still annoyed, however. “This begs the question though. Where is Hunter if he isn’t the thong we all thought he was?”
From the hallway, a cheerful pink-haired head poked into the room. “Are we all talking about Hunter? Can one of us finally wear the little cutie?” Avery giggled, but genuine earnest shone in her eyes, illuminating her true intentions.
Morgan bit her lip nervously, and then looked at her twin sister. “Hey, Avery. You told me that you put Hunter into the wash last week, right? Because you found him on the table, and didn’t even bother to read the note?”
The thinly-veiled insult flew right over Avery’s vacuous head, and she merely tapped her chin in an adorably exaggerated show of thinking. “Hmm…did I do that? OMG, I actually totes forget!”
Quinn glared at her, but more out of concern for you than anger at her roommate. “You don’t remember? Did you even put him in the wash at all? Have we been looking in the wrong place all this time?”
Avery put a hand to her chest, mildly offended. “Hey! It was a whole week ago, you guys! You can’t be super duper cereal about me remembering, can you? Like, I just forget! I remember picking the thong up…oops, I mean Hunter…but then my mind is totes blank!”
Quinn and Morgan facepalmed near simultaneously, and then Morgan groaned out a reply to her sister’s scatterbrained antics. “Alright. Guess we need to dig through our lingerie, pick out every single green thong we own, and put them all in a wash cycle together with the solvent. Sound like a plan?”
Quinn nodded instantly, and though Avery hesitated for a moment with a sulky pout, she finally conceded. The three girls then dutifully picked through their underwear drawers, clean clothes baskets, and also dirty laundry to procure every green thong they could get a handle on. Altogether, they managed to scrounge up about six different green thongs. Morgan, wishing at least one was their wayward tiny roommate, walked off to start the new wash cycle.
Your captor, however, waited alone in the living room, and spared a quick uncertain glance at her hefty posterior, and the comfy, absorbent thong she knew was buried in between all that mass. A single, niggling thought nagged at her to double-check the true identity of her new favorite thong, but after a moment, Quinn forcefully shoved the thought aside.
From the facts that she knew of the situation, you were a completely green thong lost somewhere in their apartment, not the tan thong wedged up her crack and comfortably hugging her hips. She didn’t even begin to consider that the wash cycle had wiped away your green coloring, as she didn’t even know how exactly you’d been dyed green in the first place. Also, the embarrassment of facing the potential truth that she’d been wearing you so intimately for over a week was crushing, and so Quinn ignored her mind’s single hesitant concern, confident it was wrong.
Morgan then strolled back into the room, sighed, and ran her hand through her hair. “What a morning, huh? Still down for that run?” She threw Quinn a lopsided grin, and was a bit stunned to see Quinn shrug in acceptance.
“Yeah sure.” The black-haired giantess replied. “I could live with a bit of de-stressing.”
Morgan nodded eagerly. “Ah, sweet! You’re totally enjoying these runs now, aren’t you? I knew you could do it!”
“Didn’t say that.” Quinn grumbled, but with a small smile. “I’ve just gotten used to them. I walk and swim for hours a day at Sanderson Beach. Running is a similar amount of exertion, just with more effort in less time.” She began to stretch her legs. “Besides, it builds up my stamina, which will probably benefit my work.”
Morgan grinned and laughed. “How analytical of you, Quinn. What else did I expect, though? I’m just glad you’re having fun!” The athletic girl took the lead and slipped out the front door, with Quinn hot on her heels a moment later. After a few more stretches on the front lawn, the two girls took off down the sidewalk, jogging at a brisk but manageable pace, enjoying the wind in their hair and the vigor in their hearts, and drawing no shortage of stares from passerby’s.
Deep in your hellish prison, you were endless ground up by Quinn’s monumental ass cheeks, each step she took decimating your poor body. You were crushed tight from all sides by her hot flesh, dunked in buckets of sweat, and already absorbing copious amounts of bodily fluid and stench. Muffled as the outside world was to you, you hadn’t heard a word of the commotion this morning, and so as far as you knew, this torment was going to be your future for a very long time. And, in actuality, it very well could be.
*****
After the run finally ended, both girls stumbled into their apartment soaked in sweat, but feeling energized. Their enthusiasm faded, however, as Avery met them in the living room, a sopping bundle of destroyed green thongs in her arms. Obviously, not a single one of them was you.
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April 23, 2025
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