Extended Commitment - Panties TF
Tags: Panties TF, Inanimate, Caption, Panties
DescriptionIf you want to make a suggestion or have an unique idea join the Discord ServerPart 1 | Part 2 | Part 3Extended Commitment - Panties TF'Seven months... seven endless months of constant intimate contact,' Eckbert's consciousness rippled through his fabric form in the hamper, recalling his…
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Extended Commitment - Panties TF 'Seven months... seven endless months of constant intimate contact,' Eckbert's consciousness rippled through his fabric form in the hamper, recalling his descent into this stretched, stained existence. Those first few weeks had been intensely arousing. Every brush against Lieselotte's intimate areas sent electric tingles through his transformed being. The way she'd adjust him throughout the day, fingers sliding along his edges, the pressure and warmth of her most private places it had been intoxicating. 'God, those first few nights with Friedhelm...' Even now, the memory made his fibers quiver. The raw passion, feeling himself stretched aside as they coupled, being soaked in their combined essences. He'd been horrified yet aroused beyond measure. But as days turned to weeks, the constant stimulation began to dull. What had once been exciting became routine. The daily grind of panty existence wore on him morning dampness from Lieselotte's arousal, afternoon sweat, and evening passion. Rinse and repeat. His mother's visits were both torture and his only link to his former self. She'd deliberately brush against Lieselotte when his aunt wore him, knowing exactly where he was. "Those panties really do look painted on," she'd comment with that knowing smirk. "Almost like they're alive..." 'Enjoying being pressed against your aunt's bottom, darling?' Brunhilde would tease. 'You wanted to be close to her - now you're closer than any nephew should be.' 'Mom, please... I can't take much more. The constant friction, the fluids, the smell...' 'Oh? But you seem to twitch so nicely when she touches herself. I've been watching, you know. Such a naughty pair of panties...' Time began to blur. He'd fade in and out of awareness, sometimes "waking" to find days had passed. His consciousness grew sluggish, thoughts becoming more fabric-like. He'd catch himself focusing on the texture of Lieselotte's thighs or the particular way her arousal soaked into his fibers. The daily routine became his whole world: Morning dampness as Lieselotte grew wet from dreams. The rough friction as she walked to work. Afternoon sweat pooling in his crevices. Evening passion leaving him stretched and soiled. Night bringing new fluids, new stains, new sensations both pleasurable and horrifying. 'I used to be someone,' he'd think during lucid moments. 'I had a body, a life... didn't I?' His mother's magic had worked its way deep into Lieselotte's psyche. She became obsessed with her "lucky panties," wearing him constantly despite the growing stains and odor. Even when Friedhelm complained about the smell, she'd become defensive, protective. The morning sickness incident had been a new low. Feeling her heave and strain, the acid splash... yet still she wouldn't wash him. He was crusty, stained, and reeking, but her attachment only grew stronger. 'Maybe this is all I am now,' he thought as his consciousness began to fade again. 'Just Aunt Lieselotte's favorite pair of panties...' 'I miss being able to move,' Eckbert thought listlessly from the hamper, his once white fabric now a disturbing collage of yellowed stains and crusty residue. The last time he'd had anything resembling a cleaning was when Lieselotte had dabbed at him with a damp cloth two months ago. His mother's last telepathic conversation still haunted him: 'Getting quite comfortable being your aunt's intimate wear, aren't you?' she'd teased. 'I see how you stretch to accommodate her movements. Such an... attentive nephew.' 'The things I've experienced, Mom... the fluids, the friction, the constant grinding against...' 'Isn't this what you wanted? To be close to her? To feel every intimate detail of her body?' Her mental laugh had been cruel. 'Though I must say, you're looking rather worse for wear.' The worst part was how his consciousness had started slipping. Sometimes, he'd fade out during particularly intense moments like when Friedhelm was especially rough or when Lieselotte's arousal soaked him completely. He'd "wake up" days later, finding new stains, new stretches in his fabric. 'Last night was the final straw,' he mused, remembering Friedhelm's disgusted face. "Lieselotte, these panties REEK! We're visiting your sister-in-law tomorrow. Please, for the love of God, wear something else!" The argument had been explosive. Lieselotte had clutched at her sides, protecting him, refusing to change. The morning sickness incident, her vomiting on their neighbor's prized roses, finally broke her magical attachment. Now here he lay, crusty and alone, wondering if his mother would finally end this punishment during the upcoming visit. 'Seven months of being stretched, soiled, and saturated with every fluid imaginable...' His fabric form trembled as a new thought struck him: 'What if she leaves me like this? What if I end up in the washing machine? Will I survive being spun and soaked? Will I finally dissolve into nothing?' The house's s
