(livingundies)
Izzy walked through the door, the hard grinding and sway of her butt cheeks stretching out her living underwear. Inside the warehouse was a cacophony of noise. As dozens of women were at stations inspecting, measuring and morphing Tiny men. Across the way she saw the lady herself. In a pair of ill fitting black cargo pants that showed some of her panties underneath (tan colored, most likely a Tiny) above that she wore a muscle tee, torn with some smudges. Lastly on top of her head was a brown beanie. This was The Seamstress. Currently she was ordering two girls to pull a Tiny turned panties, much like Stan.
The girls pulled and he stretched surprisingly far! Too far, once they got to about two and a half yards, The Seamstress rose a hand. “See! He’s to stretchy, he’s not fit to be panties, look into that new onesie idea Shanice had.” She said. This place was crueler than they both thought, this was further reinforced as the poor man was put into a laundry cart full to the brim with transformed Tiny men. “Um, excuse me, are you The Seamstress.” Asked Izzy. “Call me S, you a seller?” She responded.
“Uh, yep, got some primo butt cloth here!” Izzy said trying to get comfortable in the act. “That’s what I like to here, tell me, what’d he do to get a one way ticket as undies forever?” The sadistic woman said with a wide unnerving smile. “Well, he was my co-worker.” Right so far. “And well, ya know he was a real prissy prima donna.” Stan didn’t agree with this, but she was on some kind of roll. “Always telling me how bad my job was, knew the rulebook by heart and complained about everything! Including, my farts! Well, say something now, panty boy!” *PRRABBBTT* It was somewhere between ‘prima donna’ and that horrid fart that just smacked Stan in the face, where he realized, that wasn’t an improvisation, in fact something in his detective’s mind let him know that was her real feelings about their relationship. He’d have to have a meaningful talk with her after this.
Meanwhile, S was laughing her head off at the story and especially the fart. “Well, lemme have a look at this guy!” She said. “Oh, you sure, I just farted.” Izzy responded. “I run a black market underwear business, I’ve smelled a fart or two.” She said, her tone suddenly turning serious. “Um, do you have a changing room?” His partner said, getting very nervous, her cheeks were like a vice. “No, get naked here or get out!” She was shouting now, a terrible primal screech, this woman was scary. Izzy looked like a scared girl, but they’ve come this far. She unbuttoned her jean shorts, some fat poked over the top. She quickly slid them down, gave one more shy glance with some big blush marks on her face, the stripped off Stan. She walked over and carefully placed him in S’s hands.
The Seamstress went to work! She started by stroking his skin, then unexpectedly scrunched him into a ball and waited to see how he un furled back into his panty shape. She inspected his ‘straps’ next, scratching and rubbing them, looking for seams, she found none. To her credit she wasn’t lying to Izzy, that fart was still radiating from Stan, but she didn’t even flinch, it was almost as if she liked the smell. Finally, she stretched him, he stretched far, his ‘waistband’ expanding several inches. She cracked another scary smile.
“Well, given the softness of his skin and his handsome features, he could be top shelf underwear. The part that really helps him stand out is how he stretches, elastic but still firm, like normal cloth ones. This guy was born to be panties.” These words really ripped a hole in his soul, as this was the second time he heard that about himself, he hated being appraised, it was so inhumane. “Cool, how much for him.” Izzy said, having reclaimed some of her dignity after sliding her shorts back on. “You ever sell before.” S asked. “Yeah, duh.” Izzy said rolling her eyes. “How many?” S was asking faster, she was looking for something. “Oh, I don’t know, like 10.” She snapped back. “Give you $5,000 for him.” Again so quick. “Oh, deal! Absolutely!” Izzy said with a smiley face.
A silence fell over the room, all of the girls had stopped what they were doing and were now shooting gazes down on the business transaction. “Liar.” S said. “What I-“ “LIAR!” Izzy tried to say before the criminal cut her off instantly. “Anybody knows that the standard price of Tiny underwear is $5,000, but I just told you he is top shelf! $10,000 minimum! And why no additional negotiation, you seem happy to take any price! You know the kind of people that don’t haggle about prices with me?! Cops!” S had grabbed Izzy by her top and yanked her close, the poor girl was sweating. Suddenly she felt something metal poke into her back and she began to tear up.
“I promise! I’m not a cop!” Izzy said fighting back tears, terrified beyond thought. S laughed maniacally “Heh! I’d love to take your word for it, but that’s not how this works!” She held her hand out and the thug behind her removed the metal from her back and handed it to her boss. Her heart sank when she saw a gun, now pointed at her face. “I-gah-I’m not a cop, I’ll do anything to prove it.” Izzy’s words seemed to intrigue S. “Anything?” She asked, Izzy nodded frantically. “If you’re no cop, then you really don’t care about him, cause if by chance you did that means he’s your partner, but if not, well that changes things.” She said lowering the gun. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about that thing.” Izzy responded back.
S grinned over at her associates. “Well, in that case, I suppose you won’t mind if we perma-flatten him.” Izzy didn’t respond to this she merely raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Most folks don’t know about it. Only people like us that really reduce a Tiny to nothing. A few scientists have observed it amongst Tinies that have had industrial accidents, but it’s still on the down low. Most girls want a versatile Tiny, but I know a few buyers for perma-flattened ones. As the name suggests it completely disables a Tiny’s ability to reform, leaving them in whatever shape he’s in.” Stan listened to this mind bending information with a racing heart! Surely this wasn’t real, she’s just trying to scare Izzy.
“I mean, whatever you want to do, like I said I don’t care.” His partner said. S grabbed her again and raised the gun again. “You’re not hearing me! Cops got rules and your rules say you can’t let the innocent get hurt! So what I want you to say is, ‘I want him to be panties permanently’!” The raving she beast said. Izzy’s mind was racing, she had to answer and quick, or she was dead. She opened her mouth and said: “…”
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