Enjoying her boyfriend- part two (a panty tf story)

(The first part is here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/53086979)

“Just let you go?”

A thundering crash shocked Jon as he felt the woman’s finger continue to caress his tiny form. Had she just responded?

“I’ve decided it’d be more fun if I could hear your reactions.” She squeezed her thighs together, Jon experiencing a sense of compression squeeze his head.

“What? Why are you doing this? Turn me back! Please! I can’t do this!”

Feeling his body twisting as she leans forward, he feels the reflex to gasp as she rummages through the nearest drawer, finding a rather expensive-looking vibrator.

Grunting as his face is planted right into the bed, Jon lets out a yelp as he watched her immense, canyon-like thighs spread. As if he’s looking into a pale hallway, he can’t do anything but stare as he watches the vibrator enter his line of sight.

The low buzzing emanating from the white pillar causes Jon to let out a vocalization similar to gagging. Sensing the air jump wildly as it comes closer, he felt as though he was literally being electrocuted as the tip of the blunt silicon cylinder came into contact with him.

A warm stain grew on his underside. The wet spot relentlessly flooding his gusset with hot feminine slime. Now familiar with both the odor and flavor, he felt as though every taste bud was screaming at him, violently forcing him to experience the stranger’s intimate fluids.

In spite of having no lungs to fill, he still thought he had to inhale before screaming. Each time he did, it was as though he were trying to breathe through a wet washcloth. The sensation of drowning drilled holes into his sinuses as the vibrator shook every single twisted fiber of his cotton body.

Hearing moaning coming from the stranger above, Jon could feel her pulse though the elastic bands that held him firm to the woman’s soft skin. The humidity and heat were both thorough and unbearable. In spite of the leaking coming primarily from one place, the leaking from her skin caused the rest of the panties to develop a rancid dampness. Now thoroughly inundated by the stranger’s fluids, he could feel his very identity washing away. What part of him remained that had been there just yesterday?

He wished to cry as the vibrator felt as though it was being jammed down his throat. Pondering Fay’s obvious panic at this point, he tried to escape his current reality by imagining the happy times with her. Emotionally stained, he couldn’t help but feel regret. Regret that he didn’t listen to her. Regret that he wasn’t with her right then. The vibrator pulsing over his body in a rhythmic pattern now, he felt as though his bones were rattling together in the violent caress.

As the woman above wailed, leaking enough so that the wet spot tripled in size, he felt her go limp. Unable to interact with her physically, he continued screaming. His voice now raspy, his pleas did not change. “Let me go! Help me! Please!” He felt pathetically reduced, both in size and in desire. He was no longer a human being with a variety of wants and needs, instead now he was merely covering for a stranger’s cunt.

The woman now breathing heavily in a soaked spot of warm sweat, Jon felt like weeping.

“I hope you like the way I taste. You’re not gonna be licking anything else.”

Emotionally limp, he let out a series of high-pitched, pathetic whimpers as he experienced his cotton fold over. Sticking to her crotch, the strange sensation of being slipped off of the Korean stranger’s crotch felt as though a piece of duct tape were being peeled off of his entire body.

Building up a layer of scum as he scraped against her sweaty legs, he almost felt relieved as he landed on her floor in a wet, crumpled ball. Now inhaling the dusty odor from the woman’s bedroom floor, a sense of comfort snuck its way in to his inner storm of negativity, thankful he wasn’t enduring one of her bodily odors.

“I gotta shower. I gotta be clean for my shows tomorrow. Don’t run off.”

After watching her enter her bathroom and slamming her door, Jon continued to weep softly. Trying to be brave, he quickly cracked back into sorrow as he attempted to comprehend the introduction of his new life. Listening to the woman shower, cleaning herself, he felt stung by an intense jealousy. He didn’t know if he’d ever feel clean again.

The woman didn’t acknowledge him whatsoever as she stepped over him, landing in bed, before quickly turning out the lights. His conscious form allowed him no mercy as he felt no desire to sleep. In spite of his emotional exhaustion, his physical exhaustion was nonexistent. He was fully subject to the passage of time as the hours passed, the woman snoring above.

The odor inundating him becoming more pungent, he felt his own texture begin to shift. Now much firmer, he whimpered in disgust as he realized that her fluids were now drying over him, forming a vile crust over and within him. It was as though he were soaked to the bone with a stranger’s cum and now the cum had dried him completely stiff.

Crusted cum now itching him, he noticed the sun slowly begin to rise through the cracks of her bedroom windows. With no idea as to what she had planned for him, he spent a small burst of emotional energy feeling thankful he wasn’t being worn at that very moment.

Hearing the soft springs of the bed above begin to shift, he felt himself spring into full consciousness. Nearly in a trance from focusing upon his own disgust, he looked up to see the woman’s fairly attractive face hovering above. Seeing her hand grasp for him, he suppressed the instinct to hold up his arms in self-protection.

As he warped and stretched with her groping, he felt the crusted pussy fluid crack away into fine dust particles. His fabric matrix now loosened, he endured the sensation of descent as he watched her ankles pass him by yet again.

Already warn by her, it was as though he fit her like a glove. Her familiar flavors again flooded his senses as she crawled towards the bed itself. Trying to crane his eyes up, he saw what looked to be an elaborate computer setup. Focusing his vision, he saw what she was typing upon her keyboard through her dangling breasts. His “heart” sank as he saw the woman was typing “MORNING STREAM - JUST GOT UP - WATCH ME RUIN NEW MANTIES!”

Jon felt the need to gulp. Every single impulse within him shivered as he saw the chat immediately fill up with vile users. Most of the names in Korean and typing in Korean, he could recognize the English messages.

“<3 Man panties”

“Jealous of him”

“god i wish that were me”

Feeling spied upon in his moment of intimate vulnerability, his mind spun as he realized he was not only property of this woman, but part of her sick show. A feeling of helplessness flooded through him as he watched her interact with chat while swirling her pointer finger over her clitoris. As the woman exchanged words and messages with her chat, Jon found himself subject to the whims of a hoard of aroused strangers.

Stretched to his limit and snapped back on the woman’s body, Jon felt physically harmed whenever damage came to either the fabric or the elastic within. As the woman hooked her thumbs around her waist and expanded him, it felt as though Jon’s lips were being spread open with fish hooks before being slapped hard by a plank of wood as she let go.

The woman appeared to cater to many different demands as Jon was harshly rubbed against her pussy, twisted until her juice came out, and clapped between her bare soles. Each torture felt different than the last, causing him to feel new tactile sensations he didn’t even know he was capable of experiencing. New levels of hopelessness and violation, as well.

As an hour passed, chat appeared to be typing in a more animated way. Though he couldn’t understand what was going on, he could feel the woman’s heart beat more rapidly through her leaking crotch.

A ringing came from the front of the apartment as the woman quickly walked towards the door. Opening it revealed a rather tall man with jed black hair and a wrinkled, white button-down shirt. Looking rather disheveled, he seemed to carry himself in a way that suggested he wouldn’t need to be wearing those clothes for most of the day.

The woman, still topless, grabbed him by the collar and slammed the door behind him. Immediately closing her eyes, she kissed him and they immediately embraced. As she walked backwards, still heavily making out, he felt her loosen her muscles as her calves came up to the bed. Letting herself fall down, she surrendered to him, blushing, her heart racing, as he tore off his button down and threw his pants across the room. As the woman hooked off her panties, she quickly, but firmly, held them dangling around her left ankle.

Jon looked back and saw the very pussy he was just pressed up against become spread widely by another stranger’s long, erect cock. As the stranger’s hips were clapped by the rhythmic pulsing of the man’s hips, Jon felt her toes curl into his body, again warping his form into the tight gaps between her toes.

Dangling off the floor, he had to watch chat send hundreds of messages as he bounced up and down, hearing the woman who bought him get plowed. Seeing his cock glint with her pussy fluids, he felt like cringing, never even being the type of person to consume anything remotely pornographic. Enduring this for several more minutes, he felt his entire world twist and turn as he was dragged off the woman’s ankle.

A salty, sweaty rod of warm, wet, firm flesh pressed into him. “AUUAGH!” Jon shouted as the man’s soaking glans prodded his soft fabric before ejecting a steaming hot wad of hot, syrupy cum. Now cords of cloudy goo clinging to him, he wanted to flip inside out as he saw himself dive for the woman’s crotch yet again. His cotton form now smearing against the woman’s wet cunt, he noticed that she was using him to clean herself off. As the bodily fluids of two different people covered him and soaked him, he truly felt drained.

He knew there was nothing he could do, think, or say as he felt his body twist into a cylindrical shape before it was inserted into the stranger’s vagina. As the woman’s pussy wrapped around him softly, he could sense a certain heft build up within him as the juices from the cum-soaked tunnel absorbed into him.

Again feeling her grow limp, he felt forced to drink this repulsive mixture as it made its way inside him. Only able to see the world through the woman’s thighs, he finally sank into despair, falling into a trance-like state as he watched the man quickly put his clothes back on and leave.

The woman slept, Jon still stuffed up her crotch, as the chat continued to pass messages to each other. Almost growing past caring, he just wanted to find some way to let time pass more quickly.

As the woman fished him out of herself hours later, he learned that there was no such way. He was forced to bear the full brunt of both passing time and sexual torture.

Tossed into the hamper full of other dirty clothes, Jon embraced that at least the majority of his existence would be cushioned.

Days passed. The washing machine was a lot less horrific than Jon had imagined, it gave him a cleansing sensation with a painful heat that distracted him from thoughts of the stranger. He didn’t even know her name.

He never got used to that abrupt blindness whenever he was thrust into the light. Now familiar with the motions of being worn, he could sense her body heat as she dangled him over one ankle, then the other, before the final pull up to the crotch.

She tasted much different than Fay. He preferred Fay. He missed her. He had no idea how many days had passed, nor did he know what Fay was doing about the situation.

The hot friction of a morning run caused more of her gamy sweat to soak into him. Used to her body fluids, he found that her sweat tasted and smelled different depending on what she was doing. Sex sweat definitely smelled dirtier than exercise sweat. As her thighs continued to chafe, he could feel the first hints of wear. Frilly underwear weren’t meant to be exercised with; he could feel the doily patterning becing to fray.

He coughed as he was chucked on the bed. “Change me back, please. You don’t have to do this anymore. You’ve had your fun. Please turn me back.”

“I haven’t even started with you yet. And plus. Your body is fucking gone, dude. Like, your consciousness is put into my panties and your body is, like, cut up for harvesting or some shit.”

Jon’s heart melted. He knew that was a possibility, but she just gave him this information flatly. With no compassion or softness whatsoever. Feeling internally frayed, as well as externally, he gulped. There were bigger issues. He needed to get as much information out of her as possible so long as she was feeling chatty.

He always had to suppress anger whenever she talked back. “Please. Contact my girlfriend. Her name is Fay Foster. Please. She’s on Facebook. Please. I just want to know she’s okay.”

The stranger froze as she put on her sweatpants. “What? You want me to contact your girlfriend?”

“Yes! Please! Maybe she can buy me off of you or something! She’s rich!” Jon lied, but he knew that he was going to have to pull out all the stops if he were to convince her.

“I have an idea.” The woman said as she quickly snatched Jon off the bed, ripping her sweatpants off before smashing his face into her pussy yet again.

She started rubbing on her clitoris as hard as she could. Jon felt the familiar warm stain grow as her heart rate quickened and her sweat started to bead. Her moaning became mundane to him as opposed to violating. The friction between her fingertip and his cotton caused an infernal hot spot that grew more painful with each stroke. As the wet stain continued to soak into his skin, the woman whispered.

“She’s gonna know what you are, but not where you are. Ungh.” Moaning breathily, Jon knew to stay silent during these sessions. Nothing he could say would make his situation better. Only worse.

As the stranger let out a short, shrieking orgasm, her fingertip practically vibrated against her crotch. More goo continued to flood through the fleshy hole as Jon despaired, feeling heavier with sweat.

The woman, a flexible model, walked up to her standing mirror and performed a standing split - an extremely difficult cheerleading pose that required great flexibility. Hugging her upwards-pointing leg to the ceiling, she embraced her calf, showing off a large, wet spot between her legs. After snapping a picture on her phone, she walked back to her computer.

“You’re lucky I have a Fakebook otherwise I wouldn’t be doing this.” Jon had no idea what she was doing. With the screen in view, he could see his girlfriend’s facebook account. She hadn’t seen her since before going on the trip, still with the same profile picture of the two of them at the Grand Canyon.

“Just a little more.” She tapped the keyboard as he watched her send Fay a single message under an account with an obviously false name.

With one last click, Jon watched her send the picture she just took, her face cropped out, with the caption “Hi bitch. I’m enjoying your boyfriend.”

Shattered, Jon felt his mind retreat as far back as he could. The very idea of the woman wearing him could taunt Fay as well sent him into a spiral. Knowing that Fay was now being victimized because of his big mouth, Jon now felt fully broken.

He was no longer Fay’s boyfriend. He was no longer a human being. He was just some woman’s underwear. As he stared upon his captor’s body in stunned silence, he knew it’d be best for both him and Fay if he acted like it.