[Inanimate TF] Taste of Her (Patreon)

After being transformed into a pair of panties Max is completely at the mercy of his new mistress. 

~

At first, Max had assumed he’d become used to the darkness; but he was wrong. It had been a week since Claire had seduced him before stealing away his human body; transforming him into a pair of red silken panties with no control over his own movement. He’d been helpless as she held him in her palm with a victorious grin, unable to do anything but watch as she carefully folded him away into a draw filled with other such apparel.

He would have completely lost track of time were it not for Claire’s morning ritual; for a few glorious moments the darkness was lifted as she opened the drawer and looked down at him and his fellow panties. Each day he would fill with nervous excitement when he heard her footsteps approach begging and pleading for her to pick him though he knew it was pointless; unless they were touching she couldn’t hear his voice no matter how hard he tried. For the past week she had taken great pains to make a show of selecting a different pair, umming and ahing over them, gently taking each set in her soft fingers while ignoring him. It had been so long since he’d felt the warmth of skin against his fabric, let alone the wetness or taste of pussy that he now lived for. He felt as though he was going insane surrounded by nothing but clean fabric; the gentle floral smell of soap was torturous. If he really strained, sometimes he could get a whiff of that heady female smell from one of the pairs fortunate enough to have been picked but more often than not they were too clean; Claire was meticulous after all.

The soft padding of feet approached his prison, if he still had a heart it would be pounding in his chest. Bright morning sunlight flooded his senses as the drawer was pulled open, Claire’s beautiful face appearing above him with a cruel smile.

“Let’s see.” She smirked, finger against her lip.

Those lips were so soft, it had been so long since he’d been graced with the feel of them against his folds, he could scarcely remember it. He ached to be touched, it had been so long, even a finger would do!

“I’m feeling pretty horny today.” She announced, seemingly to herself but Max knew this was all a show for his benefit. “I’ll want something that can absorb a lot of my juices…”

‘Me!’ he cried out, ‘please pick me!’

God, he wanted to taste her. He needed it so badly! As a pair of panties, it was the closest thing he could get to gratification and it had been so long.

“Plus, if I am going to get myself off while dressed, I need something soft.” She mused, running her fingers along the carefully folded underwear, “Something nice and soft to feel against me.”

Her fingers were approaching, dancing featherlight across his fellow panties toward him. So close, just a few more seconds…

She stopped, fingers hovering over the pair next to him, so close could almost feel the warmth of her skin less than an inch away.

“These would be perfect.” She purred, gently picking up the soft black panties by his side.

Max wanted to scream in frustration, he’d been so close! Claire was gazing down at him; eyes teasing and smile wide. She knew exactly what she was doing. She made a show of it, pulling on that pair of panties so they sunk into the cleft of her ass; the angle of the drawer made it somewhat hard to see but Claire ensured he could glimpse enough to further his torment. Once they were on, she bumped the drawer closed unceremoniously with her hip, shutting him back in the darkness with nothing but the smell of cheap laundry detergent for company.

~

It had been almost two weeks since she last touched Max, ever since turning him into a pair of her panties Claire had been enjoying his growing desperation. He couldn’t hear his voice but she could almost sense his neediness each time she opened the drawer and refused to even lay a finger on him. The domination was intoxicating, each morning after her little show of power she was so desperately horny she had to go and masturbate almost immediately, some days she even sat up against the chest of drawers to do it; letting him hear and maybe even smell her as added torture.

Such games could only sustain her for so long however and she was growing bored and unsatisfied; it was time to mix up the game. This morning she approached the drawer fully naked and proceeded with her usual routine; picking up everything but Max, making sure her heavy breasts came to rest on the drawer itself so he could appreciate them in full before finally, plucking him between thumb and forefinger and raising him to her face.

‘Thank you!’ his voice was so desperate, ‘Oh thank you mistress, I’ve missed your touch so much!’

Claire chuckled to herself; were still capable she’d think he was about to cum from this simple contact alone. Gently, she rubbed the tiny swatch of fabric between her fingers as if in thought.

“I haven’t decided to wear you yet.” She replied, increasing the pressure of her fingers slightly. “Afterall, last time you weren’t very appreciative. You really should be more respectful.”

‘I will be!’ There was fear in his voice now, ‘Please, please put me on it’s been so long.’

“I think you can do better than that…” Slowly she began to lower her hand toward the drawer again.

‘No! Please! I need you, I need to taste you, feel you around me. My only purpose is to adorn your body, please give my life meaning!’

She felt the wetness growing between her folds; hearing a man reduced to her plaything was so arousing and she was going to milk it for all it was worth.

~

It had been so long since he’d been touched Max felt almost drunk on the sensation, just having a tiny corner of himself held in her fingers felt like nirvana after so much deprivation. The idea that she would toss him back into the drawer was torture and for a moment, he feared she would but then, to his utter relief, she pulled him toward her.

“That’s more like it.” She whispered; he was close enough now to feel that hot breath ripple across his fabric.

Slowly, she looped her fingers through the other side of him, stretching his form out so much it almost hurt but he cared not, all he cared about was how good it felt to be held by her again, how soft the skin of her feet felt brushing against his inner lace as she stepped into him. Gradually, she raised him up her legs more warm skin resting against him as she did so. He treasured the curve of her legs and thighs as his inner lining started to stretch over her round ass till he was hugging it fully, waistband snapping into place over her hips.

It was almost maddening to suddenly have so many sensations again. He felt himself sink into the cleft of her ass and pussy. He cried out with joy as his soft front came to cup the curly hair, that heady smell that was undeniably female flooding his senses. Claire adjusted herself, running a finger over his stretched fabric and pushing him ever so slightly to part her folds. Warm pussy juices settled into his fabric and he felt a familiar wave of lust pass over him. As panties, he could not cum, he could only sit within her, surrounded by intoxicating wetness knowing he would never be fully satisfied. He could however, experience pleasure and Claire's finger slowly stroking back and forth, tracing her folds through his fabric was ecstasy.

“That feels good, doesn’t it Max?” She breathed, he could hear the desire in her voice and it turned him on even more.

‘Yes.’ Anything to ensure she didn’t stop.

“You love this don’t you? Being my panties, it’s so much better than being a man.”

‘I love it.’ Max admitted, the wetness was now coming in stronger, soaking into him further so that he could taste it.

It was delicious, he wanted to drink it.

“Do you want to turn back?”

Despite everything, Max hesitated. He was so turned on and knew there was nothing he could do about it, if he could just turn back once in a while to cum…

Claire’s finger stopped and her voice turned harsh.

“Admit it, Max” she ordered, “Admit you don’t want to turn back! You’re nothing but my toy, remember.”

‘I am!’ He wouldn’t make that same mistake again, ‘I’m sorry I hesitated mistress, I was just so caught up in the taste of you.’

“Oh?” She continued her soft ministrations on him, if he could have, he’d have sighed in relief.

“Maybe you need a further lesson in obedience.” She mused, pressure increasing, “Maybe I should take your voice entirely, or your memories. Maybe then you’ll appreciate me more and this gift I have given you.”

‘No please, don’t do that!’ Despite how turned on he was by her dominance he couldn’t lose what little of his human self remained. ‘I’ll be good, I will be a good pair of panties for you.’

“You’re nothing. Mine.”

‘Yours.’ He was rewarded with a flood of pussy juice, the smell and taste was all over him now.

“You’re not even human anymore, everybody else sees you for what you really are, my sexy red panties.” She taunted, “You’re just a piece of cloth to cover my crotch, something I use to pleasure myself.”

As she said those final words her finger poked his fabric upwards enough that a tiny swath of it sunk inside her wet hole. The pleasure was intense, were he able Max was sure he’d be cumming.

‘Do that again!’ he begged, ‘Oh please mistress, let me bring you pleasure.’

Claire gave a breathy moan, repeating the gesture and then again.

“Tell me what you are.” She groaned; he could feel her pussy clenching around him.

‘You’re panties. I’m nothing by an adornment so that others can admire your sweet pussy. I never want to be anything else.’

Claire groaned as wetness squired from within her right into his folds, soaking him totally and filling him with even more unfulfillable pleasure. He soaked in as much as he could, revelling in the taste and sensation of her lips pulsing with the satisfaction he could never feel.

“Good job.” She purred, giving him one last stroke, “I think you deserve a reward; I won’t even clean myself up before work.”

‘Thank you, mistress.’ Now he would be able to smell and taste her all day.

~

Max was forced to see the world upside down as she walked, legs gently rubbing his fabric against her skin. He could feel the pull of her hair where the juices had dried, stretching him subtly as they moved as one. He had become like Claire’s second skin, forced to conform to the shape of her ass and mound, so soaked through his fabric clung to her. He told her these things in the hope that it would please his mistress, until finally she ordered his silence.

His view of the outside world was blocked by the business skirt she wore to the office and so, without any better options for entertainment he turned his vision inwards to his lining so he could admire her pussy up close. As a man, he could never appreciate a woman this way; he could look and touch sure but it was an entirely different matter to fully encompass her. To be able to feel and see every inch of soft pink skin and dark hair, in a way he almost washer pussy. Had she cleaned herself up afterwards he would be feeling his silky fabric glide across her soft folds but thanks to all the extra moisture he stuck to them, moving with her and rubbing against himself. It was tortuously pleasurable.

As she sat he felt himself crushed between the chair and her pussy, his fabric stretched to thin he almost felt himself disappearing within her. He was pinned in place, unable to do anything but drink in that sweet juice that dripped from her hole. Every now and then she would clench her legs together, hugging him further and stimulating every part of his form. He thanked her, as a good pair of panties should and drank in the smell and warmth of her skin.

~

Concentrating on work was an impossible task, knowing she was sitting here in an office full of her colleagues with what amounted to a man between her legs at all times. He was especially demure today, thankful for everything stroke and squeeze she gifted him. Clearly, he was afraid she would lock him back in that drawer for weeks on end if he wasn’t perfectly behaved, a not unsustained fear she had to admit.

She’d always loved wearing naughty underwear to work. The idea of having a lacy thong or sheer bikini briefs on under her sensible skirt was such a turn on. She loved to imagine her boss taking her in for a private meeting, only to rip off her clothes and see the sexiness hidden beneath. While other women were content to undo an extra button or two she went the extra mile and then some. Knowing Max was crushed between her legs, forced to submit to her at all times excited her in a way that no lingering glance ever could.

~

By the end of the work day Max had settled in, feeling cosy and warm pressed up against Claire’s pussy. He was almost sad when it came time for them to leave but he was rewarded with the gentle sway of her hips against his fabric, so it wasn’t all bad. She made her way to the bathroom and he hoped she was going to reward him further with another session of masturbation but instead she diligently ignored him, changing from her professional outfit into something far more scandalous. From his point of view he was unable to appreciate the full outfit, but the tight leather skirt she slipped on was cool against his damp front and pressed him into her even more.

Once again, he turned his attention inwards, admiring her up close as they travelled, his bottom exposed to the cool night air. The sound of a heavy bass reached him and a few moments later he could feel its thrum, passing up Claire’s legs and into him. The slightly vibration causing the hair to tingle and pulse in time with the music. There was a creak as a heavy metal door swung open and the bass was joined by loud guitars and drums; they must have been at a club of some kind. Claire’s form shifted ever so subtly to the beat and the cold night air was replaced with that hot humidity that could only be created by a tightly packed room. Even through the pussy juice he could smell the alcohol and sweat that permeated the air; it was the smell of drunken Saturday nights and wild afterparties, intoxicating.

Claire began to dance, he could feel that tight skirt pressing up against him as she twisted, her legs lifting him further into her cleft until he was basically a thong. Her ass cheeks bounced with each jump, taking him with them as they jiggled and squeezed. If she was bothering by his riding up, Claire didn’t show it in fact, she began thrusting her hips in such as way that he moved even further into her. Despite its tightness he even felt the slight rush of air every few moments as it began to slide down the curve of her hips, exposing his pretty pink waistband. A tiny embroidered heart rested just above the centre of her ass, calling attention to both it and himself. He could see, through the blur of moment, eyes staring at him, admiring both he and his wearer. He loved the attention, these people would never know he was here, a permanent voyeur.

It didn’t take long before a man approached Claire and Max felt a sense of pride fill him; he’d done a good job, he’d been a good pair of panties. The man gripped her hips and subsequently, him. He revelled in the feel of those rough hands as they brushed against him, so firm and strong. It felt as though the formalities of flirting went forever; the man took his time, buying Claire drinks and stroking her ego between dances. Max could feel sweat beginning to soak into his lining for her exertions but occasionally the man would grab her ass or hips, giving him some much needed stimulation as a reward.

Finally, there was a burst of cold air from below as Claire and her suitor left the club. Once again Max was thankful for her pussy, its warmth protected him from the chill at least on the inside. Once they were in the taxi his vision was further blocked as he was crushed up against her and the leather of the skirt. He could guess from her movements and the muffled sounds though, that they were making out. Hard. He ached with jealousy. Then there was movement, the sound of a car door closing and a key in a lock. They’d barely made it inside when he felt the crush of the man’s hardness against him, even through the skirt. The man’s hands were everywhere, squeezing and pulling until finally the skirt was gone, shoved down in one tug. His pants had already been removed and Max barely had a second of open air before that thick cock was resting against him. He was crushed between the hardness of the erection and softness of Claire’s pussy, slowly being stroked and fondled by the former. The air began to stink of sex even now; he wished desperately that he was crotchless, that way Claire could be fucked while still wearing him.  He wanted more of this, more contact, more sweet juices soaking into his fabric. The cock disappeared and he mourned its loss even as those rough fingers stroked along him. He felt Claire’s pussy quiver at the touch, another squirt of wetness came from deep within her and he drank it in, the taste coating his entire being.

But then, his joy turned sour as those fingers traced back up to his waistband, slipping between him and the warmth of Claire’s skin. No! He wasn’t ready to be taken off, he needed more! He knew Claire could hear his cries of desperation and despair but naturally she ignored him, even going so far as to start lowering him herself with one hand. Far too quickly he was being peeled off her skin, wet hair clinging to him as long as possible before springing free from his gusset. He slipped down her legs, trailing the wetness he’d spent the day so diligently absorbing down her skin as he went. He begged, pleaded to be put back on but instead he hung, limp and helpless from a single finger and Claire moaned, letting her man suck her tits dry.

While her suitor was suitably distracted, she shot him a knowing look before tossing him to the ground in a crumpled heap. Without the warmth of her skin he was freezing, still soaked with sweat and her juices. She pulled her partner to the floor, positioning herself on her hands and knees with her bare ass in the air. Max stared up at that round mound, proudly displayed for both his and the man’s benefits. He already missed the feeling of those cheeks against him so badly.

Claire’s eyes were locked on him, moaning dramatically as the man pushed inside her. He started to fuck her doggy style while he watched, jealousy filling him like ice water. He wanted to feel the inside of her again, the rough tightness of her inner walls called to him. Claire was grinning wickedly as they fucked, pushing back against her partner hard.

“Oh! This feels so good!” She moaned, the man grunted in agreeance but Max knew she was talking to him, not her partner. “Oh yes, yes! Just like that! You’re making me so wet!”

Max watched bitterly, feeling that same wetness within him turn cold as it dried while this man’s cock was slathered in it. What’s worse, the guy was probably too wrapped up in his own pleasure to appreciate it! Max watched as the thrusting became harder, Claire’s heavy breasts bouncing with each push and her face began to twist in ecstasy. This at least, was a rare joy, he had a full view of her face as she came. Normally the angle didn’t allow him to watch and while it wasn’t as good as feeling her cum around him, it was a close second. She cried out, whole body shuddering and shaking as she finally let her eyes roll up in pleasure. The man wasn’t too far behind, grunting and almost bending in two over her body. Max could only watch helplessly as he pulled out, thick white coating his cock and Claire’s velvet folds.

“I’d better clean up.” She whispered huskily, roughly grabbing Max in her palm.

The dude was laying on the carpet, too embroiled in his post coital haze to notice as Claire took a few steps away to whisper to Max.

“I hope you enjoyed the show.” She teased, “Too bad you’ll never cum like that again. You’ll just have to make do, maybe I’ll let you watch me again next time if you’re good.”

‘I’ll be good, mistress!’ He promised immediately, ‘Please let me at least watch.’

“Yes, that really is all you’re good for now. Well, that and one other thing.”

She roughly bunched him into a ball like tissue paper before pressing him hard into her soaking pussy. Wiping herself clean of juices and cum, that salty smell permeated him totally and for a few blissful seconds, he was warm and at home once more before being unceremoniously dumped back on the floor in the corner of the room.

It was there he spent the night, growing cold as the cum hardened on him, turning his lovely soft fabric hard and rough. He couldn’t sleep as a pair of panties so he was forced to spend the night in the cold, watching as the occasional pair of feet passed him by. When the man finally left the next morning and Claire approached him once more his metaphorical heat leapt only to plummet once more when she ignored him; throwing him into a laundry basket amongst the stink of sweat and day old clothes. Closing the lid and leaving him in darkness.

~

Claire smiled to herself as the lid closed with a heavy thump; poor Max, he’d been so sad when she’d ignored him this morning. If anything, he sounded more desperate than he had the day before after a week of solitude in the drawer. She sat down against the laundry basket, feeling the wicker give ever so slightly as she leaning her back into it and closed her eyes. Soft fingers dancing to her bare pussy as she called his desperate pleads to watch again. Her finger met no resistance, already wet just from remembering last night.

It was so hot, looking at that crumbled pile of fabric knowing Max was inside watching that man fuck her. She’d almost cum twice from the knowledge alone; knowing Max would never experience ecstasy that way again, the only pleasure in his life now was that with she deigned to give. She moaned, slipping another finger in and curling it against her G-spot. Her body shuddered and tightened as she neared the edge. She groaned loudly for Max’s benefit; she knew he would easily be able to hear her in that basket. How much else could he sense, she wondered. Could he smell her right now, the moisture within her legs which he loved so, was he imagining the taste?

The thoughts pushed her over the edge and she moaned loudly, extending the orgasm out for as long as possible just to tease him before laughing at his expense. He was totally at her mercy, just the way she liked it. Feeling relaxed and satisfied she got up, she had plenty of spare clothes, so need to do laundry today, or at tomorrow really. Maybe she’d even leave it half a week before she finally washed him, who knows? It was totally up to her.

~

Days passed in darkness as more and more clothing joined the pile. He’d turned hard and crusty, the smell fading with the moisture so all that remained to keep him company was the damp stink of sweat and mildew. When the pile finally shifted he wanted to sing for joy, even if he never did catch a glimpse or touch from Claire. The washing machine was hardly a pleasant experience, he was still very much capable of becoming dizzy in this form apparently. But after days of cold it felt good to be soaked through and warm again, even if it was just soapy water. He did mourn the loss of Claire’s scent though, replaced with that horrid artificial floral smell which had haunted him in the dreaded drawers. The drier was a much nicer experience, feeling himself being blown around by the hot air, cushioned among the warm fabric of her clothes.

When she finally unloaded the machine her fingers brushed against him for the briefest of seconds. He tried to cry out to get her attention in that brief span but she was ignoring him again, humming to herself seemingly oblivious to his existence. This wasn’t like the days before where she had grinned down at him with dominant malice; could she really have forgotten about him? He sat in the basket, eagerly awaiting his turn as she folded the clothes but when she did finally pick him up there was no sign of recognition, not even a subtle dipping of the eyes or tremble in her fingers. She treated him no different than anybody would a piece of fabric. No acknowledgement of his presence at all.

She grabbed a handful of other underwear along with him and toss them unceremoniously into the drawer before shutting it with no fanfare. Not even one last smirk. Once again, he was in darkness, bereft of even her scent to keep him company. He waited patiently, for that was all he could do; wait and pray that she wasn’t done dominating him yet. Lest he spent the rest of his existence trapped in this form forevermore.