When I found that genie in the cheap bottle at that garage sale, I thought I had struck the jackpot. Three actual wishes, anything I wanted? I was set! Being a teenage girl desperate for a boyfriend, I made my three wishes: Be cute forever, be a star, and get into a boy's pants. In hindsight, I definitely could've phrased wish three any number of other ways, but that's what I went with. Also in hindsight, I guess all three of my wishes were granted, albeit in the most twisted way imaginable. With a simple snap and a sinister grin, I was torn from my body and life by the evil genie.
When I woke up, I first noticed the feeling. On one side, I felt some kind of fabric sheet touching my body; on the other, a thin sheet of cold plastic kept me from falling to the floor below. Meanwhile, it felt like my own body was rolled unnaturally into itself, and I couldn't budge a single muscle to free myself from my own contortion. I didn't really even feel like I had any muscles to move, instead feeling like a flat sheet with three holes in weird places that didn't coincide with any human body part I could think of. Overall, it felt quite claustrophobic in my sudden confinement. What the hell was going on?
Next, I noticed my surroundings. I couldn't see too much other than blackness where my vision folded in on itself; there was, however, a design of some sort blocking part of my view of the outside world. Wait, were those words? Yeah, reversed words written on a clear layer of plastic that I could only feel myself pressing against. I couldn't quite read what the words said, but reading wasn't exactly my priority when I realized I was in a store. A massive, dark department store that I could see a little bit into from an unusually low viewpoint. I guess they were closed for the night, but why did everything look so damn huge?
I couldn't tell how long I was trapped in the dark in the massive store, but finally, mercifully, the lights suddenly turned on. My eyesight adjusted to the change in lighting, and I realized that I preferred the dark. After all, the darkness hid the truth of my situation. A few minutes passed, and I saw a worker walk by my area. A worker that was possibly a hundred times my size.
My surroundings weren't huge; I was tiny. I was in the boys' clothing area of the store, and I realized to my horror that I definitely wasn't human anymore. I didn't know what I had turned into yet, so I took some time to figure it out as workers and the first couple customers walked by. The fabric touching me inside my plastic prison meant I was probably made of fabric as well. The plastic meant I was in a package as part of a multi-pack, and the three holes in my body... Well, while I was still rolled up, I couldn't really tell where they were, so they were still a mystery. I couldn't look around very much, only being able to see out of the front of the package.
So, what comes in a multi-pack? Socks were out, they only had one hole each. Undershirts had four, so not that either. Then I remembered the wishes I had made. Be cute forever, be a star, and... get into a boy's pants. Oh fuck no, this isn't what I meant! Was I seriously nothing but a pair of boys' underwear? The fabric, the multi-pack, the three holes in my body... Everything checked out. But what about the other two wishes?
Another wish would be understood when I realized what kind of customers were looking in my area: Mothers and fathers with younger sons, probably between ages 4 and 9. I guess that's how I'll be cute forever, since I'm so small that most people will find me cute for that reason alone. Not that most people will ever be able to see me. After all, a little boy showing off his underwear is immediately chastised for being indecent. Oh shit, I was gonna be WORN someday...
An entire day went by with nothing really happening other than seeing more members of my former species walking by, paying me no more mind than a simple piece of merchandise deserves. The last customers left, the workers closed the store, and the lights turned off again, leaving me in darkness. That second night seemed endless as I pondered my future. No longer was I a teenage girl in her last month of her senior year of high school, having just turned 18 a couple weeks ago. Instead, I was a piece of fabric designed to be wrapped around a kid's waist, probably manufactured a month or so ago.
The lights turned on again, the worker from yesterday walked by again, and customers started trickling in. Another day, another 24 hours of being left alone to my thoughts, constantly spiraling further and further into despair, wishing that something - ANYTHING - would happen already.
Finally, something DID happen. A mother appeared in front of me, with her son following close behind. The kid couldn't be older than five. As he pointed directly at me, I saw the mother's massive hand reaching towards me. "You want these ones?" she asked her son as I felt her fingers squeeze the plastic packaging I was trapped in. The little boy nodded excitedly with a wide grin on his face. "I thought so, you certainly like your stars," she continued.
"SPAAAACE!!!" the huge kindergartener yelled out as I was dropped roughly into a shopping cart. Was this hyperactive child seriously going to be my owner? The mom-and-son duo pushed the cart I was in through the store, slowly burying me in other things they were going to buy. I still had a little bit of light filtering through everything, but it was uncomfortable to feel so much weight crushing me against the bottom of the cart.
It must have been almost an hour having the air crushed out of me when the weight started lessening. As items were mercifully lifted off of me, I finally saw full light again. The incessant beeping of merchandise being scanned was terrifying to me, knowing it would be my turn soon. Finally, the woman grabbed my package and lightly tossed me onto the moving belt. I could only stare at the slowly moving ceiling as I was automatically drawn toward the worker at the register. Not even looking at me, the male employee - who would've been cute to me if he wasn't so much bigger than me - grabbed the package I called home, lazily dragging me across the counter as the annoying BEEP filled my hearing. Nonchalantly grabbing my prison, I was dropped into a shopping bag with a few other pieces of clothing. My vision was now forced against a galaxy-print t-shirt the boy excitedly picked out earlier, the shirt that should've been adorably tiny now totally dwarfing me. A few beeps later, I heard the employee give the total of $138.96, and the slide of a debit card. With that, it was official: I had been purchased. I had no clue how much I cost them, but the idea that my entire life was now worth a tiny portion of that total was crushing to me.
The bag was lifted - shifting my vision to face the kid's new shark-print swimming trunks - and dropped back into the cart to be brought outside. I could feel the difference in temperature, going from the air-conditioned department store to the late-May heat outside as I was wheeled toward my inevitable new life. The cart came to a halt; I heard a vehicle's trunk being opened, and I felt the bag being lifted then dropped into the awaiting car. Now with my vision forced against a floral shirt the mother got for herself, the trunk was slammed shut, leaving me in darkness once again. I heard the car being started, and I felt the light rumble as the family left the parking lot to go home.
Some impossible-to-measure length of time later, I felt the car come to a halt, then heard the low rumbling of the engine die down as it was powered down. The trunk was lifted open, and light flooded in. The bag I was in was lifted out of the trunk, then handed from the mother to her son to carry in. As my prison was swung wildly back and forth by the hyper boy who was now my owner, I felt a shift in temperature once again as I was carried into my new home.
"Alright Ollie, put your new stuff away," the mother said, which was followed by an "Okay Mommy!" from my new owner. My clothing comrades started being pulled out of the bag, leaving only me and the other things bought for the boy, whose name I now knew was Ollie. The bag was picked up, more wild swinging ensued, and I was soon thrown onto the floor. Now I could see the light through the mostly-opaque plastic, and I could tell I was in the little boy's bedroom. I felt the other clothing being pulled from the bag, and I could see the boy's silhouette through the bag putting them away. Finally, he came to the bag one last time, and I felt his hand grab my package and pull me out of the bag.
As he roughly tore the plastic packaging open, I tried to take in as many details of my new owner as I could. Light skin, short jet black hair in a cute bowl cut, bright ocean-blue eyes, a light smattering of freckles across his face... This 'Ollie' was a cute kid, anyway. He made the decision to put each of my fellow packmates away one at a time, so I got to see what the others looked like. One was black with blue bands and sports-based designs; the other was plain white with dark blue bands. I must have been the ones with the star pattern, explaining how my final remaining wish had been granted. His hand - which was finally something smaller than me - grabbed me, and instead of carrying me to his dresser, he dropped me onto the floor. What was he doing?
I would get my answer when he unsnapped his shorts and let them fall to the floor. Next, he grabbed his current underwear and pulled them down as well. Shit, he was about to put me on, wasn't he? I could do nothing but watch as he bent down over me, reaching his hand out and grabbing me once again. He held me by my... waistband... and, slightly stretching my fabric, lowered his right foot into my right leg hole. Following with his left foot, he started pulling me up his legs. I felt the smooth, hairless skin start rubbing against my unwanted leg holes, his thighs slightly stretching them wider, until I reached his waist. With a light snap, he let go of my waistband, forcing me to hug his pelvis against my will. I watched from my unwanted new point of view as Ollie bent down to pick up his shorts, pulling them back on and covering me.
As he redid the snap, I was once again trapped in darkness. This was a very different darkness from being in a closed store, however. Instead, my vision was locked against the inside of a pair of shorts, with no light whatsoever coming from the front. A slight glow came from somewhere beneath me, where his legs came out of the shorts' leg holes, but nowhere near enough to let me see anything around me. Not that there was anything to see except an expanse of dark blue denim. With the unseen change in clothing completed, I felt my owner's legs' movement as he dashed out of his room.
I no longer had any real context as to what Ollie was doing outside what little I could hear through his shorts. There was a lot of movement and a lot of heat that didn't come from the body inside me, so I assumed he was playing outside. He would occasionally reach for my backside to undo a wedgie, but that was the only direct interaction I got from him. My day consisted of my fabric being stretched and wrinkled repeatedly to conform to my child owner's movements, all the while sitting in near-complete darkness, having only muffled vocalizations from Ollie and the other kids to keep me company. I could feel his sweat slowly soaking into my lightly absorbent body as he played with his friends.
At one point I felt the heat around me dissipate, having heard the words 'hang on' and 'go' through my new denim prison. I felt the constant movement suddenly cease, and I was suddenly thrust into the light once again. For the second or two I could actually see anything, I stared forward at the toilet I found slightly below my point of view. With a sudden realization - and disgust - at what was happening, his hands grabbed the front of my waistband and forced me back under his now-slightly-roomier shorts. While I was relieved I wouldn't have to watch the act, I could still hear the gross liquid hitting the back of the toilet bowl, before slowly petering out as the stream subsided. I was roughly tugged back over the offending appendage, then plunged into darkness once again as he snapped his shorts and flushed the toilet. Unfortunately, being a young child, he didn't exactly finish cleaning after himself, meaning that not only did I not hear the tell-tale signs of someone washing their hands, but I could feel - and smell, and taste - the leftover waste liquid soaking into my fabric. Yeah, it was gross, but I supposed that this was just another horrifying aspect of my new existence.
Finally, I heard various goodbyes as Ollie headed back inside. For a while, I stopped being able to tell what was going on as most noises around me were too quiet for me to hear through my wearer's shorts. I was forced through another bathroom trip, then felt the child slowly walk to his bedroom. Suddenly, I heard Ollie undo the snap on his shorts, then watched as the denim fell out of my vision. I heard more shuffling of fabric, and saw his light blue sleeveless shirt fall to the floor. I was finally going to be taken off!
Turns out, I wasn't so lucky as to be freed from this child's waist. Instead, I watched from my pelvic point of view as Ollie climbed onto his bed, laying spread-eagle on top of the covers as he continued to cool down from his fun day in the heat outside. I was forced to stare up at the ceiling, my view shifting slightly every time my wearer moved around. "Goodnight Oliver," I heard his mother coo from the doorway. "G'night Mommy," the boy replied, followed by the lights being turned out. Great, more darkness in my life.
Or so I thought. As the main light disappeared, it was replaced with the soft blue glow of a nightlight, as well as the pale yellow of glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling I was forced to stare at. I could even see a big, glowing moon in the corner of the room This kid REALLY seemed to like his astronomy, and now I was technically part of his space collection. As gross and humiliating my new position was, at least my owner was near-unbearably adorable. I clung to Ollie as he slowly drifted off to sleep, turning slightly onto his side.
Perhaps half an hour later, light came into the room again as his mother opened the door. "Are you asleep, sweetie?" she whispered, careful not to awaken the potentially sleeping boy. After a few seconds of silence, she came in holding a light star-patterned sheet and carefully placed it over her son, and I was left mostly in darkness. A dim blue glow still lit up my surroundings, so I could see Ollie's thighs approach me as he shifted in his sleep, curling up under the new cover. Over time, I felt his body heat warm up the space around me, and his light movements came to a halt, sleeping into the kind of restful sleep I would never know again.
As it happens, clothing doesn't sleep. I remained in the dark for several hours, the uncomfortable scrunching of my frontside and stretching of my backside paired with the constant rise and fall of Ollie's breathing truly cementing my complete helplessness and dependence on this five-year-old boy. Left to my own thoughts, I tried to distract myself by thinking of my family. I had been like this for two days now; how were they handling my disappearance? Did they even know I was gone, or did that genie erase my old self from existence? I would give anything to be able to see them again, but I knew that would never happen. I might not even be in the same area, and even if I was, I would never know, being hidden under a kid's pants and all.
As time went on, I started being able to see sunlight filtering through the sheet covering Ollie and me. Finally, the boy wearing me stirred in his sleep, starting to wake up. I helplessly continued conforming to his midsection as he removed the sheet, sitting up on the side of his bed, then hopping off to start the day. Finally able to see more than my owner's legs, I was along for the ride as he trudged to his dresser, picked out a new outfit - including new underwear - and carried everything out of his room and into the bathroom. Being able to see as my wearer walked was disorienting, my vision constantly bobbing up and down and swinging slightly from side to side, while also feeling his leg movements scrunching and stretching my fabric to and fro.
Reaching the bathroom where his mother was already waiting for him (I must not have been able to hear her waking him up), Ollie dropped the clothing onto the rug by the door. Then, grabbing my waistband, he finally slid me down his legs and dropped me to the cold bathroom floor. Feeling the child's body heat quickly leaving my body, I simply sat in an unnatural heap on the floor as he was given a bath by his mother, slowly accumulating moisture from the now-humid air and floor. I couldn't do anything other than stare at the ceiling, listening to my owner and his Mom being the family I will never have again.
Once they were done, the mother lifted Ollie out of the tub to help dry him off, with several drops of water landing on me and absorbing into my fabric. I watched as my owner was dressed by his mom, looking rather dashing in his Sunday best. As Ollie ran out of the bathroom, his mother reached down to pick me up. Now crumpled in the grown woman's gigantic hand, I was suddenly in free-fall as she dropped me into a laundry hamper. The lid closed, and I was forced into darkness once again, with the feeling, smell and taste of dirty clothes all around me. With that, I was left in relative peace to consider my situation. While being worn while Ollie was sleeping wasn't too bad, the rest of the experience of being clothing was absolutely not worth it. He may have been adorable, but why did I have to be OWNED by him? And while the first day was fairly uneventful, he was only five years old. What other kinds of fresh hells awaited me?
I would find out several days later, after being buried in at least three days of outfits from the mother-and-son duo. My days of darkness and boredom were suddenly interrupted by movement as the container I was in was lifted and carried somewhere else. After the loud thumping steps that signified a staircase being descended by my carrier, the hamper was set down on a hard surface. As clothing above me was removed from the hamper, I was finally exposed to the light and open air, and the mom's hand reached for me once again. Momentarily crumpled into a loose ball, I was unceremoniously dropped into a large space with a lot of light colored clothing, then thrust into darkness once again.
I heard a couple beeps, then a loud, low rumble filled the air around me. As I heard water pouring in, slowly soaking me through with the soapy liquid, I realized that I was in a washer. I was being washed like the dirty laundry I was. I felt myself begin floating in the water, then I heard an ungodly thunking noise as my surroundings began spinning. Completely unable to resist, I found myself swept up in the action, forcing the dirt, sweat and other unwanted substances out of my fabric. As this continued for who-knows-how-long, I found myself quite happy that I couldn't see anything; this unwanted ride was dizzying enough just feeling my body swirling around, lightly colliding with the rest of the laundry and eventually finding myself plastered to the wall of the rapidly spinning drum inside the washing machine.
Finally, the movement stopped sometime after I became unstuck from the side. As the water drained out of the machine, the clothing around me settled on the bottom, squishing me between several other items. I never saw the light come back or the mother reach in, but I felt the ball of clothing I was stuck inside of being lifted out of the washer and thrown roughly into a different machine. A door closing and some beeps later, the new machine whirred to life, spinning the wet ball I was part of around the chamber. The air inside started heating up, and the slowly-drying ball separated piece by piece. Soon, I started being flung around the dimly-lit space, seeing out of the windowed door on the front of the machine I now knew was a dryer. I couldn't really gather many details though, as my drying body fluttered weightlessly around the machine. Flying past my ever-shifting vision were various pieces of clothing, most of which were significantly larger than me. Camisoles, t-shirts, tanktops, socks and panties belonging to the mother; shirts, socks and other underwear belonging to Ollie... simple pieces of clothing being flung around a dryer, and I was one of them.
Eventually, as my now pleasantly warm, clean and fluffy-feeling body settled on the bottom of the dryer under a few other layers of clothing, the heat subsided as the dryer powered down. My dizzying rides finally over, I heard the door being opened by the mother. Handful by handful, she grabbed the clothes in the dryer and dropped them carelessly into a laundry basket, with me going along for the ride along in a handful with a cami, two mismatched socks and a pair of panties. Once again, I was slowly buried under several layers of clothing. The constant light-to-darkness cycle was sure getting annoying...
The laundry basket carrying me was set down on the floor, and I felt the weight on top of me get lighter and lighter, until the last layer was removed from me and I could see again. The mother's gigantic hand reached for me once again, absent-mindedly smoothing out my fabric before setting me on top of a pile of Ollie's clothes. My fleeting moment of vision was ended once again as one of my owner's shirts was placed on top of me, and the weight slowly increased yet again as more of his clothing was sorted into my pile. More darkness followed as my pile was picked up by the colossal woman, then placed on a flat surface. The weight lessened bit by bit until the shirt covering me was lifted away, neatly folded and carried out of my sight. Able to see fully again, I discovered that I had been taken back to Ollie's bedroom.
Finally, the mother's hand reached for me again, grabbing me by my waistband. My lightly swinging body was carried to the deep blue dresser, the top drawer of which was slid open by my carrier. The drawer contained balls of socks and a few pairs of pajama pants, as well as a small pile of fellow underwear. I was turned over to face the mother, then carefully lowered on top of the white-and-blue pair. Gently set down in my new home, the drawer was left open for a while. My vision-giving light wasn't to last though, as another pair of underwear was soon lowered on top of me, leaving me in the damn darkness again. Another minute or so passed, and I felt the drawer slide shut, the loud thud of wood-on-wood sealing my fate. This little drawer in a child-sized dresser would be my home for the forseeable future. It would be two more days until I would be worn again, so I relaxed while there was absolutely nothing to stimulate my mind.
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It's been a year since I made those stupid wishes, and I've been nothing but a little boy's pair of underwear ever since. Sure, the kid's adorable, but do you know how disgusting little kids can be? I've been through everything: Being worn; being washed; the slow, mind-numbing days in the dresser drawer. Not to mention Ollie's bodily functions; sweating, farting, bathroom breaks, urine stains, poo streaks - the whole gambit. He's even wet the bed through me a couple times, and let me tell you, there's few feelings in the world more uncomfortable than that warm, salty liquid soaking through me, then having that gross liquid slowly cool down and dry, leaving my fabric cold, clammy and temporarily stained a tell-tale light yellow. Then the bleach used to get rid of that stain... Fuck, it stings so badly...
Something else about little kids that I didn't think about earlier is the fact that they don't exactly stay little. Over the past year, I've felt my fabric slowly strain more and more every time Ollie wears me, my owner being in the middle of a growth spurt. I've felt my threads stretch out permanently, and the elastic in my waistband and legholes start to painfully snap where it can't handle the little boy's expanding circumference. In short, he's starting to outgrow me, and I'm wearing out fast.
I realize that someday, holes are going to start forming in my fabric, and I'm going to be deemed unfit to wear. I'll be taken permanently away from Ollie, then... what? Am I thrown in a rag bin to be used for housecleaning? Or will I just be thrown away, discarded like the worthless piece of worn-out clothing I'll be? Either way, I'm sure I'll end up in a landfill somewhere eventually, left to decay in the middle of a mountain of fellow garbage, buried and plunged into darkness one last time, never to see the light again.
For now, I think I still have a few good months left in me before any of that happens. Until then, I'll just continue doing my job as little Ollie's favorite pair of underwear. This morning, the last pair on top of me was removed to be worn by my child owner, leaving me on top of the pile in his underwear drawer that I call home. I've heard something about a summer camp coming up in the next couple days, so I probably won't actually be worn tomorrow. Instead, I'll be packed away in a suitcase to be worn at camp, then left in a bag of dirty clothes for a few days before I'm washed again.
Ollie forgot to shut the drawer I'm in after getting dressed, so I'll actually be left in the light for a few hours. Not that I can see much from my vantage point, only being able to stare aimlessly at the star-studded ceiling until his mother comes in and closes the drawer, leaving me in darkness again. It's moments like this that I have to make the most out of. Everything else about my existence is pure hell, even if I've mostly gotten used to the life of a tiny piece of clothing.
I still can't believe my entire existence is owned and controlled by a six-year-old boy...
