(Chapter originally written by PhoenixStriker)
Starting an up-beat music playlist on her phone, Lauren began to hum along and groove to the music and she set about her task. A vapid, happy smile on her face, Lauren pressed what might be her new favorite rag deeply into the dirty porcelain of the sink, and started scrubbing.
With you left to do nothing but suffer, Lauren guided you across the entire sink. Scrubbing your body harshly into every nook and cranny, Lauren shoved your malleable form into the sink bowl, the corners and crevices, and everywhere in between. Your body picked up more toothpaste gunk, alongside plenty of dirty specks, grime, a freakishly large blob of mold at the corner of the sink, and even a few stray dried clumps of snot, which made you internally wretch in disgust.
Not content to leave it at that, Lauren crouched down low and scrubbed under the dark recesses of the sink. In seconds, your body became swarmed with cobwebs and dust, the fine particles clogging your throat and coating you in ashy powder and sticky, entangling webs. Your mother even used your body to wrap around the corpse of a roach, the crunchy insect's brittle appendages being crushed against your mouth as Lauren pulled you out from under the sink and dropped the dead bug into the trash. It was horrifying.
Every so often, Lauren paused to wash you in the sink, but that was almost as hellish as being used as a rag in the first place. Your oblivious mother would start by dunking you forcefully under the water, then kneading you body between her fingers as she wrung you dry, until all the gross goop your body had picked up was drained from you. Her hands worked you hard, and your squishy form felt like it was going to rip in two each time Lauren squeezed you fiercely. Then, she'd simply spray more stinging, overwhelmingly fruity smelling chemicals into your face, and get back to work.
The sink was completed after an agonizing forty minutes of torture, but Lauren, a happy smile still on her face and a pep in her step, didn't rest on her laurels. She merely headed right over to the tub, and got to work.
It was more of the awful same, and you started to tune out this inhumane and disgusting treatment that your blissfully unaware mother was subjecting you to. Once again, you were scrubbed and smeared all along the tub's surface and the shower walls, picking up more and more peeling grout, suspicious stains, and flakes of dead skin. However, unlike the sink, you came away from the tub coated in utterly gross strands of your mother's wet hair, the snake-like strands clinging to you and causing you to violently recoil in disgust.
Sadly, your miniscule reactionary twitches went unnoticed by Lauren, who merely used a lint roller to scrub the hair off of you (in the process pounding your tiny body even flatter, and distorting your features), then soaked and wrung you out once more. After the tub came the floor, which was more of the same, and you merely closed your weary eyes and begged for all of this to be over. While you'd suffered much worse than bathroom rag duty in your life, this was perhaps the grossest thing that could happen to you. At least it couldn't get worse, right?
As if on cue, Lauren let out a long sigh. "Well, enough putting it off." She said aloud, as if aware that someone else in the room was benefitting from her running commentary. "Time for my...royal throne." Your mother chuckled.
Your heart skipped a beat. No. There was no way. She couldn't mean...
Lauren knelt down and spun you around in her hands, so that you were facing forward towards, what else, the toilet. In all it's dirt-speckled and grimey glory. You winced at the sight, cringing.
Your mother then flipped up the lid, revealing the depths of the toilet bowl underneath...and you mentally screamed.
Lauren bit her lip with slight embarrassment. "Yikes. I should've just done my business at the Mexican place last night, huh? Whelp...that's what my little rag is for!"
Your eyes grew wide as dinner plates, and you silently screamed to your mother, begging her and all gods out in the universe to stop this from happening, as the truly horrifically unmentionable dark stains of the toilet bowl grew closer and closer.
*****
Thirty minutes later, you were lying on your back, your body draped over the now sparkly-clean rim of the tub. As you stared up at the bright bathroom lights, you tried your hardest to block what you had just experienced from your memoy...but it was no use. You could still feel the touch of those stains and clumps, still smell the repugnant odor, still...taste it in your mouth. Forget what you'd said earlier, this bathroom rag treatment was now the worst thing that had ever happened in your life. It didn't even matter that Lauren had thoroughly scrubbed you in the sink afterwards. You knew deep down that you'd always be dirty.
Lauren herself was sitting on the closed toilet seat, texting something or other to Rio and laughing at her best friend's responses. She was dappled with sweat, but otherwise proud of just how pristine and clean her private bathroom now was. Sure, a majority of the rest of the house was in need of a deep-clean, but that could wait for a few days. Lauren was wiped, pleased with her work and eager for a break. She was also consistently startled by just how incredible her little wonder rag was.
Putting her phone in her pocket, Lauren reached over to your body, eyes shining down at you as she smiled.
"Well, little rag! Great work...today..." She trailed off, pretty face twisting into one of confusion. "...huh? Matt?"
Your heart leapt for joy. You'd been so traumatized by that damned toilet you hadn't even considered trying to reform for the past ten minutes that Lauren had left you alone. Honestly, if you'd put some effort into it, you might've even managed it. Still, apparently your face had formed itself back into a recognizable visage, and Lauren's eyes quickly sparkled with genuine recognition.
"Oh, goodness! It is you, Matt!" Your mother put a heart on her chest. "You've been my little rag this whole time? Whatever for, sweetie?" Lauren gazed at you intently, waiting for you to answer. When you didn't, she gasped and laughed. "Oh, wait, you can't talk now, can you. Whoops, silly me." She picked you up into her hands. "Still, I think I know the answer."
You stared into your mother's eyes, willing her to read your expression and free you. It wouldn't change what she'd put you through, but some time on your own two legs would let you at least slightly distance yourself from this nightmarish day.
Instead, Lauren grinned. "My little boy wanted to help his mommy out, didn't he? Aw, that's so adorable of you, Matt! You're always my considerate little trooper, aren't you?"
You paled. Oh god no.
Lauren stood up and left the room, twirling you in her hands. "Some of the nice ladies I make clothes for always try and tell me that they're sorry I had a tiny son and not two perfect, normal daughters. But, I just don't agree! My little Matt is the best in the world, aren't you?" She gazed at you affectionately, even as she started absent-mindedly squishing her thumb along your face, smearing you. "Always willing to lend a helping hand! Goodness, I'm so glad we had that talk about being more independent and responsible, Matt. It's really changed our relationship for the better, hasn't it?"
Lauren chuckled, and tossed you onto the kitchen counter. "Still, I can't imagine you loved every second of being my rag. Yes, yes, I know you said that I should put myself first and your needs second, but I am still your mother, you know? As such, I think you've deserved a break. Go ahead and relax for the day! Reform, if you'd like." Lauren stifled a laugh. "Of course, if you'd like to stay as a rag for a while, there's so much more to clean over the next few days! Your choice, honey!"
Giggling, Lauren wandered away to freshen up, leaving you by yourself.
Instantly, you set to work on reforming, desperate to escape from your rag-shaped form before Lauren made any more cataclysmic misunderstandings that ruined you even more than you already had been. Slowly but surely, you regained a bit more feeling in your body, but you were still flat and stretched out. Still, reforming gave you time to think about how much you'd screwed up your life having that conversation with Lauren years ago.
Just then, pounding footsteps signaled a visitor approaching, and your hopes plummeted as you quickly saw Jenna towering above you, customary smirk on her pretty face.
"Sup, bro?" Jenna smiled wickedly. "Heard you subbed as mom's rag, huh? That was nice. Of course, a real nice son wouldn't back out now, right?" Jenna's grin only grew as she picked you up. You twitched and raged in her hands, but it was no use. Jenna simply folded you into a small square, shoved you into the back of your mom's cleaning supplies cabinet, and placed a heavy spray bottle on top to keep you stuck.
"See you next cleaning session, bro!" Jenna taunted, shutting the cabinet. She then wandered off to distract your mom, roping Lauren into a movie marathon just long enough for you to vanish from your mother's mind completely.
In the cabinet, you struggled and strained to escape, but it was just like the previous night...useless. In seconds, your cruel sister had just extended your sentence as Lauren's rag.
1) In a few days, the cabinet is opened and you are grabbed by Lauren. Surprisingly, she recognizes you. Unsurprisingly, she believes you choose to stay as a rag for her, so she gets right to work using you.
2) Sometime the next week, the cabinet is opened, and you are grabbed. However, it's actually Mari, here to help Lauren and Jenna deep-clean the house. Totally oblivious to her rag's true identity, Mari gets right to work with you.
3) *Writer's Choice*
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