The first splash of steaming hot water shocks my mind back to awareness. I'd been having such a wonderful dream wrapped around my wife's body - a dream of being panties. The water and cleaning chemicals starts to soak into my body. Where am I? In a metal drum. More important, what am I? I feel... tiny, crumpled, soiled. In a rush my last human memory of the transformation clinic returns. I'm panties, my tiny fabric form crumpled ontop of a pile of other laundry. I'm inside a washing machine moments away from being put through a scalding hot spin cycle! This is bad. The clinic warned what could happen if detergent ever touched my pantified body. Through the glass door of the washing machine, I see my wife turning away. Has she forgotten I'm here, discarded me in the laundry basket by mistake. Or has she done this intentionally? Doomed me to an eternal existence trapped as her mindless clothing. I can only pray it is the former if I'm to have any hope of reverting this. The drum starts to spin, tossing and burying me among gym clothes and dresses. I have to focus. I try to form words on my body to signal for help but it's been so long since I used English that the shapes of the letters are jumbled in my mind, made all the worse as my body is mixed among her laundry. Her scent is all around me. How long have I been this way? Weeks? Months? Everything is so hazy… SOS! That is simple enough. As the drum spins faster and faster, I try to hold onto the letters, imprinting them on my surface. SOS! SOS! S…AS? SAS? SVS? So hard to think. My wife turns away. She doesn't see me. Detergent drowns me. My mind dissolves, disperses, unravels, the memories of blissful, mindless objectified existence rising to swamp my human identity. I have... to... focus. Purifying detergent flows through me... Cleansing... Rinsing away everything except my last cry for help I c-can feel it washing away my mind