Rachel smiles as if you should be paying her for “letting” you do her such a service, all as you just feel like crying but do your best to keep quiet, knowing there’s a big pile of dog poo with your name on it if you protest. Unfortunately, Rachel just takes this as a good sign. “Hahaha, I just knew you’d like that idea, not even a peep of protest!” You roll your eyes in response. Was there absolutely no winning with this woman?
You actually throw up in your mouth as Rachel grabs a lidded whicker basket and overturns it, a veritable rainbow of VERY used undies flowing out and all over the bedroom floor. You can’t help but notice that even with how huge each pair of undies is, all of them look sizes small compared to Rachel’s planet of a butt. Luckily you force yourself to look away before you really look at them in too much detail; unluckily you can’t so easily avoid the stench that comes wafting up from the pile like some sort of mummy’s curse, sending you on a dry heaving fit that Rachel just chuckles at.
“Okay, V, what I’m gonna need you to do is separate the lights from the darks, and then separate the ones I can run in the delicates cycle from the ones I need to have set to heavy duty! You’ll just love this chore, don’t worry about thanking me!”
You are so floored it actually takes a few moments for it all to sink in. Not only does this woman want you to sort her disgusting dirty panties, but some of these panties are so dirty they’ll have to be run under a heavy duty cycle? You do your best not to try and envision what that would entail, but fail miserably as horrendous images flash through your mind, leaving you in a stupor as Rachel keeps blissfully making your life hell.
“Oh, and you wanna know a really, really, reeeally dirty secret no one knows about? Haha, of course you do!” You try to cover your ears, not wanting to hear anything more that this woman has to say, but her voice is loud enough that it makes no difference. “See, whenever I wear panties, even though I know they’re my size, they always bunch up and give me HORRIBLE wedgies. Ever since I was in highschool.” You cringe for the umpteenth time today, not really needing to have that image added onto the others flashing in your mind, only to find that this wasn’t the secret Rachel was talking about. “So I used to always be picking or scratching at my butt crack.” You vomit in your mouth again, but Rachel just continues. “But it’s annoying to have to reach back all the time, and it’s hard to itch the really deep parts when I do, so… I figured out that when it gets itchy, if I fart, the itch goes away! It even kinda tickles a little! Hahaha!” It’s all you can do to keep from throwing up all over Rachel’s hand, your only saving grace being that Rachel has finished telling you her secret… “But all the kids in my family know that, even a few friends!” Or so you thought. “The secret no one knows but me and now you, V, is that I have reeeally bad IBS now, so… Pretty much every time I fart, more than farts come out.” You lean to vomit, but thinking you’re about to protest again, Rachel covers your face with her thumb, forcing you to swallow it back down. “So most of my panties are VERY dirty, so I keep them separate from everything else, and I don’t usually wear them at home. Too bad for you I haven’t been out in a few days, so there’s not really any new panties for you, but they still should be nice and icky!
You are seriously considering whether being buried in dog poo might be better than being around this woman any longer when Rachel apparently decides to start you on your task. You are startled to find yourself falling through the air as she chuckles, dropping you straight into the middle of the horrendously soiled undies. You thrash and flail as you tumble into the deepest part of the pile, panties of every varying degree of disgusting soon becoming your entire world. You finally do vomit as you come to a stop, but even the smell of all of your previous toe jam “breakfast” is nothing compared to the smell that is attacking and completely engulfing you at present.
It only takes a few moments for you to completely panic, kicking, clawing, flailing, and crawling every which-way you can to try and get out of this decrepit pile of undies. After touching more disgusting surfaces than you can even imagine sources for, you eventually see some light through the used-panty-scented haze and make a break for it, only to trip at the last second over a random waist strap. Before you know it you are wrapped up and completely tangled in something, the scent of old shit and ass sweat somehow increasing even more as you feel an especially horrible substance being rubbed all over your body.
“Haha, oh my gosh… And here I was thinking that this might have been a little much even for a Vexie, and it turns out that you’re rolling around in the back of my undies even after me telling you my secret! Not only that… Wooow, you chose THOSE ones to roll around in? Those are the ones I wore last week and had an actual accident in after all those tacos… I guess Samantha was right, you DO like bum-bums the bestest! Hahaha!” You can only cry muddy tears of despair as with every attempt to get out you only seem to get more trapped/tangled…
Choices:
1. Rachel untangles you, saying you’ll have plenty of time to “play” between loads after you’re done sorting.
2. Rachel let's you "play" for a while in the undies.
3. She thinks you’re being so “cute” that she decides to put off the chore for now and to wear the undies you’re in… With you still in them! (Reserved)
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