After the brief, blinding flash of light compared to the pitch-darkness of the watery pipes, you found yourself at the end point on your unexpected and chaotic journey.
You were floating in a puddle of ice-cold water, steadily filling up a gigantic metal barrel-shaped container. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that you were in the slowly-filling center of a washing machine, and the only washing machine you knew of at The Oasis belonged to the lifeguard staff themselves. As such, you didn't waste a second screaming out for help, praying someone like Selena would wander by momentarily. Because, obviously, if the washing machine was filling, that meant someone was actively preparing to use it.
However, your plan immediately went south as a shadow passed overhead, and some light was blocked out by a hand holding a little plastic cup. A second later, and a green liquid descended from the heavens from that plastic cup, and you let out a muffled shriek as a downpour of laundry detergent splashed down into the watery puddle you were paddling in. The detergent slammed into you, soaking you to your bone, and temporarily shoving you under the water. Even when you re-broke the surface, you had to expend precious seconds coughing and gagging, trying and failing to clean the sticky detergent goop off of you.
By the time you even remotely recovered, you glanced back up to find the glow of the laundry room ceiling light again blocked, but this time by the eager smiling face of a brunette girl. You recognized her in a heartbeat as Phoebe, another of the lifeguards at The Oasis.
Phoebe, just about the age of your daughters, had always been a handful, but she was a good employee. Probably the most spunky, energetic, and go-getter girl on the planet, but her enthusiasm for life was matched in equal measure by her ditzyness and her oft-overworked single brain cell trying valiantly to make it through each day. Surprisingly, she was actually pretty competent around tinies most of the time, but she could still be easily distracted into causing chaos. More than once you'd ended up crushed to her curvy, shortstack body, and almost always because she had the attention-span of a goldfish. At least she would always wholeheartedly apologize, and unlike a certain other ditz from your past, didn't misconstrue your accidents around her into misguided attempts at flirting.
You cupped your hands around your mouth to scream up to Phoebe...only for Phoebe to be her Phoebe self at the worst possible time.
"Water, check! Detergent, check!" The hyperactive girl said aloud, in her typical 'what's an indoor voice?' voice. "Suits and towels...coming right up!"
Declaring her plan right over top of you (as was far too common with Phoebe, many such incidents incited by her coming about simply because the girl was always babbling, her low voice overpowering nearby tinies screaming for her attention), Phoebe failed to spot your tiny naked body swimming in the drum of the washing machine. She then dipped out of sight, only to return a second later with an almost adorable look of concentration on her face as she had to stand on her tiptoes to even see up into the washing machine. But whatever humor might've been there was quickly dashed as Phoebe's face was blocked out by a mammoth amount of lifeguard swimsuits and used towels, which were summarily dumped into the machine and right atop you.
You screamed anyway, even though you knew you didn't have a chance in hell of actually getting Phoebe's attention now, and then you were buried under the mountain of clothes and fabric.
Instantly, you get smushed to the first item to hit you, especially as it sopped up water and got heavier, and then the other items pushed down on it further. That item happened to be a white towel, which was the new color of choice for towels at The Oasis. It had been Grace's idea to use towels that were so snow-white in appearance that any tiny stuck to them would stick out like a sore thumb, unlike the previous flesh-toned towels, or more typical red towels that could still be a problem if a tiny's body got burned enough by the sun to blend in anyway. As far as you knew, the white towel idea had been a smash hit, multiple tinies ending up smeared to them rescued in short order. Grace, as usual, was a brilliantly sharp girl when it came to looking out for her fellow affected.
Although, it wasn't as if you were necessarily in a mood to compliment them with your entire nude body crushed under one. Just about the only saving grace in your scenario was that the towel had crushed your back, so you were facing outward.
Except, even that little consolation became a stab in the back once Phoebe slammed the washing machine lid and properly started the spin cycle, as since you were facing outwards, you had to properly endure every torment the towel itself did. You got smushed along the smooth metal lining of the barrel, ground into the bumpy curved ridges at the bottom of the barrel, waterlogged with an unending barrage of whirlpool waves as you spun for the next hour, and slapped in the face over and over again by the other items of clothing in the machine. It was a chaotic, painful mess.
More concerning, though, was a strange tingling sensation that kept racing through your body as the spin cycle went on. It was a weird tickling, that kinda hurt and stung a bit, and you couldn't place your finger on what was possibly causing that. Regardless, it felt like your body was reacting to some sort of stimulus, potentially chemical-based, and your naked flesh almost felt like it was on fire. It was far from comfortable, but worse was your total inability to really grasp what was going on in the confusing watery spinning torment and darkness of the washing machine. You'd have to wait until it ended...but for some reason, you felt a sense of dread.
When the wash cycle came to an end, you were predictably pretty much glued in place to the towel. In fact, your malleable body had been kneaded out a bit, and you were now a smeary blob about five-inches in diameter, smushed right into the center of the towel. You went unnoticed as Phoebe bundled up the sopping wet items and tossed them into the dryer, where you then endured another hour long tumbling procedure that succeeded in drying and baking you even more onto the towel, a towel you soon realized was Tinex. Probably Just Jacobs brand, and it's Tinex nature would make you stick to it even easier. You'd probably need outside help getting free.
Thankfully, now you were in a position to praise Grace's ingenuity, as your tanned skin would obviously contrast with the snow-white towel and get you noticed and rescued instantly. It'd be a bit humiliating to be freed while smushed and naked as you were (and you prayed to the gods that it wasn't Hope who found you, as she'd be thrilled to have you naked before her to tease), but at least this whole incident would be wrapped up in short order. Just another bump in the road that was your life.
And yet, as your dry, warm, and fluffy towel was pulled out of the washing machine by Phoebe, and unrolled to hang right in front of her face, no semblance of recognition shone in Phoebe's eyes. She didn't look at you in shock or confusion at all, nor blow your eardrums off with a loud proclamation of 'oh my gosh, a little tiny, oh no!'. Instead, she just smiled right at you, almost dreamily.
Phoebe let out a sigh. "Ooh, yay! I love when the towels are all soft and stuff! And right in time for my patrol shift!"
Then she unceremoniously crammed the towel under her arm (smashing your face right into her armpit), folded up and properly distributed the rest of the items she'd washed, then folded the towel over her shoulder and began strolling off with a happy skip in her step.
Panic seized you, married with utter dumbfoundedness at why Phoebe had failed to spot you. But your confusion didn't last long, as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror Phoebe passed...and your heart broke.
The reason you hadn't stood out to Phoebe was because you weren't visible at all! The towel, despite you being glued to it, looked like a pure white towel, with no discrepancy caused by your body at all. The horrifying reason came to you a minute later. The detergent Phoebe had poured into the washing machine had screwed with your body! That had been the fleshy burning sensation you'd felt! The detergent chemical had gotten absorbed into you, and bleached your entire body white! You blended in near perfectly with the towel now, and aside from your beady-little eyes blinking out frantically to call for help, all the rest of you was practically unnoticeable!
If given enough time, you knew you could reform enough of your body to appear more noticeable, like reforming your smushed lips to scream out for help. Or, if even more time passed, your skin would surely fade back to normal. But you were glued onto a damn towel! What were the odds that you'd be given even a few minutes of peace when there was such a bevy of giantesses at this waterpark eager to dry off their sweaty bodies? And if you kept being put into the washing machine, that accursed detergent would just keep bleaching you into infinity! Your mind flashed you the possibility of this very moment being the first day of the rest of your life, and your heart and mind screamed with fear!
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