Part.2 - The Childhood Friend

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Three or four months of being owned and worn by this stubborn, curvy woman. I wasn't quite sure, I'd lost count of the days and couldn't catch a glimpse of a calendar when I was shoved inside an underwear drawer or covered by my Owner's skirts and shorts.
Roughly a hundred days to be forced to taste my Owner's sweat, her skin, all the aromas that collected around her ass and womanhood... all while those ass cheeks bounced and jiggled incessantly.
Gas was passed through my fabric.
My Owner's arousal too.
The occasional dark mark or piss drop when my Owner wasn't careful enough in the bathroom.
My Owner didn't even acknowledge that I used to be a human anymore.
Not since our argument where she'd ripped my tag off.
To her, I was nothing more than soft snuggly panties now.
Maybe a bit warmer than she'd like, but still very nice.
I got to experience my Owner's life as a busy Southern mother and wife, from the perspective of her hips.
And it was driving me fucking crazy.
At least the arguing was some form of interaction. Now I was either stretched around my Owner's hips and ass or else crumpled at the bottom of a dirty laundry hamper.
Buried under sweaty socks, bras, other panties, and the rest of my Owner's clothing.
Just baking in her scent... w-was I starting to get used to it?
To be so uncomfortably familiar with my Owner's ass crack and nether lips?

...that is, until one weekend when my Owner's oldest daughter came home from college for a weekend break.
Like before, I was mixed in with a heap of the family's dirty laundry to be washed and dried all together.
Only this time, I ended up in the daughter's laundry pile... packed away into her travel bag... taken away from my Owner's curvy hips and soft sweaty skin...
D-did the daughter know that I used to be a human...?
Let alone her childhood friend who I hadn't seen in years...?

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