Dirty Panties

After a day spent tidying up the apartment, it was hard for Persephone not to feel accomplished.

Persephone was a tall woman, a few fingers over six feet, and even after half a decade of hormones, she didn't have much to fill it all out with. She'd always been a bit thin and bony, and that hadn't really changed, despite the small breasts on her chest or the cute little butt that her girlfriend liked so much.

Still, at least she liked her face. Persephone took good care of her skin, and was proud of her smooth jawline, full lips, and subtle make-up that didn't run even after a day of work.

Her long black hair was pulled back into a tail, and a purple bandanna covered the rest. As much a something like a maid's outfit or even just an apron would fit for a cleaning day, instead Persephone went for something simpler, opting to dress in a baggy long-sleeved shirt from before she'd transitioned, something she wouldn't mind getting dirty, and her favorite skirt, made of a hardy fabric and easily washed.

Which was an important thing to consider for her wardrobe on chore day. Besides keeping the apartment clean, this sort of day helped Persephone focus on the good of what she'd done, the clean carpet and the rack of spotless dishes and the dust-free entertainment center, rather than thinking about her current state of joblessness.

It felt wrong to her, staying home all day, landlocked by her lack of driver's license, all while her girlfriend Sandy went out each day, working and doing the shopping and...

Persephone felt a little surge of happiness, shivered, and let herself smile. It may have felt unequal, and she might worry about what Sandy thought of the situation continuing on and on with no end in sight, but there was something about it that also gave her gender euphoria. Traditional gender roles were silly, of course, Persephone was a feminist. But there was something exciting to the idea of being a stay-at-home wife for the love of her life.

The sound of a car pulling into the parking lot outside caught Persephone's attention, and a quick check of the time confirmed it. "Speak of the devil," she said under her breath. Years of voice training had gotten it exactly where she wanted, light and girly and undeniably feminine.

She looked down at herself, noticing the sweat on her hands from all her hard work, the light pit stains that even a strong coating of deodorant hadn't been able to forestall. And her panties... She'd hoped to have time to change into something prettier before Sandy came home, but it seemed those hopes were dashed to the rocks.

"Honey, I'm home!" Sandy called out as she stepped through the threshold. She was still wearing her work uniform, a polo shirt and pair of slacks, but within seconds of the door closing behind her, Sandy was taking them off, tossing them to the ground, leaving her in just her panties and camisole.

Looking at the scene before her, Persephone frowned. "I know the uniform is uncomfortable, love, but maybe you could wait to undress until you're in the bedroom, where the hamper is? Or at least, carry the clothes there after you take them off?"

The problem with these objections was, of course, that even as Persephone made them, she was ogling all the girlfriend that had been exposed by the hurried undressing.

Sandy was a good head and a half shorter than Persephone, but that was the only metric one could use to call her 'smaller'. The camisole exposed her thick arms, her valley of cleavage, and her soft tummy. On the scale between 'chubby' and 'fat', Sandy was solidly in on the upper end of the former. She had short brown hair, cut into a bob, and at the moment that hair looked a little too shiny from lack of recent showering. Her face was round and cute, with big dimples when she smiled, which was often.

Seeing that expression of longing on Persephone's face, Sandy grinned, crossing the distance between them and putting an arm around her girlfriend, hand gripping firmly onto Persephone's side as she pulled her girlfriend closer. "That's a lot of complaining from someone who's getting a free show, honey."

Feeling heat rush to her cheeks, Persephone put up an illusion of resistance. "I'm just saying, it'd be nice if..." Being so close, she could smell the musky aroma of a post-work Sandy, the scent sharp and far too good at making her thoughts go all foggy.

"Aww, Peri, sweetheart, you don't need to lie. Tell the truth for me." It was a soft command, but it was a command nonetheless, and it was coupled with the feeling of Sandy's other hand wandering down, cupping Persephone's pert butt through her skirt.

The sensation made her let out a squeak of excitement, and the sound was quickly followed by a rush of words. "I, I like it, I love watching you undress mistress, your body t-turns me on!" Her thighs started to rub together unconsciously as her arousal built.

A hand on the collar of Persephone's t-shirt gently tugged her down, and Sandy began kissing at her collarbone, up to her neck, up to her ear. "What else, princess?"

The pet name made her shiver in excitement, her dainty cock painfully hard as it rubbed against her panties. "Your s-s-smell, I love your smell, it's so good!" It felt so dirty to admit that something like body odor could turn her on so much, but it was what her mistress wanted, so it was what Persephone had to do.

"Good girl." One more kiss, and then as suddenly as she approached, Sandy pulled back, a teasing smile on her lips. "Now, I'm gonna go pick out something comfier to wear, and just because I love you so much, I'll take my work clothes with me. It's frozen pizza night, right?"

"Look at you, remembering the meal plan," Persephone said, trying to hide her disappointment that the play had ended early.

Sandy winked at her. "Well, you get that going, I'll do my thing, and then we can find something to do to pass the time until food is ready." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss Persephone's cheek, then as promised she gathered her discarded clothes and went to their bedroom.

As much as Persephone wanted to simmer over the teasing, she couldn't help but smile as she got dinner ready.

The choice to do a big apartment cleaning was intentional, since it paired with the day where making dinner would be easiest. That wasn't to say all Persephone had to do was preheat the oven and slide the pizza in, she enjoyed putting in a little more effort than that. Still, she was nearing the end of her energy reserves. Out of spoons, as her fellow disability-minded friends would say.

With the oven heating up, she got to work preparing some garlic butter. "Oh, did you hear back about the washer and dryer?" she called out.

From the other room, Sandy responded. "Oh, did I not tell you? Yeah, it's gonna be a couple more days. I figured since tomorrow's the start of my weekend, I could handle a laundromat trip."

Suddenly painfully aware of how dirty her clothes were, Persephone could especially feel her panties. They'd been her last clean pair two days ago, and by this point, they were well past the point of cleanliness she preferred. "Can't you... do a laundry run tonight? I don't have any clean underwear, and the ones I'm wearing now are making me uncomfortable." She hated to ask, especially after Sandy had just got home from work, but... what else was she to do?

"I don't think I'm up for that tonight, buuuuut..." Sandy returned to the room, still in her underwear, hiding something behind her back, her rosy cheeks and wide grin a dead giveaway she had something silly planned. "I've got a pair I haven't worn in a while, you could just borrow these until tomorrow!"

Turning her attention back to the frozen pizza, Persephone began brushing the garlic butter on the outside crust. "You're sure they're clean?" She knew her girlfriend had a habit of occasionally wearing underwear far past the point of propriety.

Hands reached under her skirt and tugged down the panties she'd been wearing. They were a lacy set, the fabric a beautiful plum color, but now they were damp with sweat, whatever sexy appeal they might have had long lost in Persephone's eyes. "Leg up," Sandy told her, and she obeyed. Sandy slipped out the old pair leg by leg, then worked to slide on the new ones. Due to the angle, Persephone couldn't get a glimpse of what they looked like as she worked on the food. "I told you, I haven't worn them in ages."

Sandy tugged them into place, making them as snug as possible, which wasn't much considering they were a size or two too large. They also felt... well, certainly not clean, but not freshly dirty either.

Persephone moved her legs a little, testing how the fabric stiffly adjusted with her movement, and frowned. "Love, are these the pair you wore in college?"

"Aww, c'mon babe, I thought you liked my scent? This way, you can enjoy it even when I'm not here!" Sandy teased. Before Persephone could turn a glare onto her girlfriend, Sandy backed up, giggling to herself. "Anyway, I realized I'm overdue for a shower, so I'm gonna do one real quick. Talk to you later byyyeeeeeee!" Then she sprinted out of the kitchen to retreat into the bathroom.

Unsure if her lover really needed a shower or if she just wanted a way to avoid immediate consequences for this prank, Persephone focused on finishing the pizza as the sound of the water starting drifted towards her. Adding olive oil, fresh mozzarella cheese, and some deli pepperoni, she got the meal perfectly prepared. Persephone put it in, set a timer, and reached down under her skirt.

"I cannot believe she pulled this," she grumbled to herself.

She'd rather be wearing her own dirty underwear than these. They were something Sandy took a weird sort of pride in, a cheap pair of black panties from her college years that she apparently wore for nearly three months straight. (No, not straight, obviously. Three months lesbian?)

Out of morbid curiosity, Persephone had sniffed them before... the stench was horribly rank, more pungent than she could handle, and the black fabric of the panties was stained in numerous places from Sandy's masturbatory adventures. How exactly vaginal liquid could stain a pair of black panties this deeply, Sandy didn't know, and she honestly didn't want to find out.

As her fingers made contact, she could immediately tell these were the panties, just as she'd assumed. She started to tug them off, when suddenly a thought came to her. These haven't been worn in years, they're way cleaner than what you had on before. Just keep them on for a day, it won't kill you.

The voice wasn't her own. If anything, it sounded like Sandy, but more gruff, more grimy. An imprint of who she'd once been.

Persephone wasn't phased by the strange thought, and in fact, she found herself agreeing. Yes, I... I should keep them on. They won't kill me. Pulling her hand back up, she found herself sniffing it before she knew what she was doing.

There was no mistaking that smell, the mix of stale sweat and sour sexual fluids and rank body odor. For a moment, Persephone had to fight back the urge to gag. Aww, what's wrong? You love my smell, don't you, honey? Take another sniff. For reasons she couldn't understand, Persephone did just that, and... Oh, that's... that's not so bad. Stronger than Sandy smells now, but, it's kind of getting me horny.

Normally, Persephone would wait for the pizza to cook by taking care of any other chores, but there weren't any left to do. With a yawn and a stretch, she realized how tired she felt, the toll of her activities for the day having taken their toll. Plus, she was left needy after Sandy teased her, so... maybe, she could touch herself while she waited? Just a little?

The impulse made her feel guilty, but it was easy to ignore that concern. I'm an adult, I'm allowed to masturbate. That, at least, was a hang-up she'd fairly thoroughly defeated. The bedroom, then. But before she could even take a step, that voice came back. Why go that far? You're tired. The couch is so much closer.

It was sound logic, and her legs were sore, so Persephone obeyed, walking over to the couch and laying down across it, resting her head on one armrest, her feet on the other.

There was something so thrilling, so naughty, about reaching her hand into her girlfriend's nasty college panties, rubbing her dainty cock, precum smearing into the fabric. New stains.

Persephone had always been a neat freak, a girl obsessed with keeping things tidy and orderly. Intellectually, she knew there was no need to go so far to affirm her femininity, but it was a feeling so ingrained in her, by society and its expectations, that she'd never been able to truly shake it, and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to. Perhaps for that very reason she'd been so drawn to Sandy, someone so carefree and lax and...

She smelled her hand again, and it smelled even better and worse than it had before, her cock twitching in her hand. Eyes closed, she kept stroking her fingers down her length.

This was her deepest secret, something only entrusted with Sandy, but Persephone loved musk, loved stink, loved her girlfriend's stink most of all. Her own body odor gave her dysphoria, but smelling the tangy scent of her love was the hottest thing in the world, it drove her to mindless ecstasy.

Having her face shoved in Sandy's rank armpit, or smothered by her thick ass, or plunged against her musky pussy... it was the best, it turned her on more than any stimulation to her own body ever could.

Fingers feverishly rubbing the underside of her little cock, Persephone just kept sniffing, even as the scent started to fade. Switch hands, keep huffing. It sounded like such a repugnantly beautiful idea, how could Persephone turn it down? She pulled her right hand out from the underwear, fingers slick with precum, and put her left hand to work.

The smell was so much stronger now, built up by prolonged contact, awakened by the introduction of fresh sexual juices into the fabric. Without realizing she was even close, right in the middle of a huff, Persephone hit the point of no return. "C-c-c-cumming!" she moaned to herself, body twitching and spasming as her tiny cock echoed the motion, releasing its weak and watery load right into her fingers and the disgusting panties.

Normally, that would be where any masturbation session for Persephone would end, too exhausted from the orgasm to continue, cock too sensitive for more stimulation.

But... that didn't happen.

Keep going.

Her hand kept moving, kept stroking, fingers now slick with her own cum. Fuck that's so hot, it's so dirty, I'm not supposed to be dirty, but... She kept sniffing her other hand, not noticing as her body started to change.

The thing about clothing, is that with enough wear and tear and love, they can imprint on us. Whoever we were at that moment, as we put a piece of ourselves in the fabric, remains, even as the person we are grows and changes.

When Sandy had worn these panties for three months straight, only taking them off to use the bathroom, she had been a different person.

As relaxed as she was about hygiene compared to her girlfriend, her college self was a thousand times worse. So much hornier, with no regard for how others saw her. No, wait, that wasn't quite right... she liked being seen as gross, as disgusting. She'd masturbated for hours at the thought of dominating some weak-willed girl, making her sick with her scent, fucking her until the girl could do nothing but crave her.

The panties had a grip on Persephone from the moment she put them on, latching onto aches and desires so hidden, she hadn't even realized they existed.

But after cumming into them, submitting to their demands, they could do much more than boss her around.

The hips that held the panties stretched wider, gently, slowly, and the pounds started to pack onto her tall frame. Thin and bony thighs became softer and thicker, her flat stomach began to expand past her waistline, the sides puffing out into little rolls. Her tits swelled, jumping three cup sizes in as many seconds, and her arms filled out into something so much softer.

With all of that came a slight bending of her mind, her thoughts, as Persephone indulged more than she ever had before. Her lingering worries about the cleanliness of this, already shoved to the back of her mind, started to disappear entirely as she indulged in her kink. I love Sandy's scent so much, I could touch myself to it forever...

But this was still only the start, and that voice prodded her, pushing her thoughts in new directions. Aren't you a little jealous? She marks everything she touches with that smell. Her clothes, her furniture, even you. Claiming it all for herself. Don't you wish you could do the same?

Tilting her head to the side, Persephone found herself taking in breaths of the couch's fabric, and it smelled like Sandy.

But for the first time, she struggled to resist the thoughts the panties were placing in her head. I... no, that's not me. I'm not the musky one, Sandy is. That's the way it's supposed to be. I'm... I'm claimed, I'm hers. I like it that way. Yet even as she pushed back, some part of her began to ponder the concept... What would it be like to become the very thing she loved?

Now actively huffing the couch and jerking herself, Persephone felt it this time as her body changed, her cock growing in her grip, growing inch by inch, her balls expanding with it. "W-what?" she mumbled, but even as she questioned it, she felt herself getting close to a second orgasm.

You're growing, Peri. You're becoming worthy of me .

The thought, forceful and possessive, sent her over the edge, and she felt her cock twitch in her grip with a force it had never been capable of before, spurting out a full load of hot cum.

Mind bleary from two orgasms in a row, Persephone pulled her hand out, looking at the gooey white fluid stretching between her fingers. I haven't... my cum hasn't looked like this in years, not since I started HRT. Seeing it didn't give her any dysphoria, though. Through that beautiful haze of afterglow, all she felt was pride.

Looking down at herself, she saw the changes to her body in hints and peeks: the curve of her arms, the glimpse of soft tummy under her shirt, the bulge of her erect cock through the skirt. Frustrated, she stripped off her clothes, leaving her in just her bra and those dirty panties, without a care for getting her cum on the shirt or skirt she discarded.

Now Persephone could really see the changes. Her breasts spilling out over her bra, the band of which was digging into her chest. Her stomach, round and healthy and soft, rising up from her waist like the gentle slope of a hill. And those panties, now soaked in her cum, no longer baggy, but fitting her perfectly.

The panties... are they what's doing this? It sounded ridiculous, but it was the only thing that made sense, as she found herself thinking of the forceful voice that had been pushing into her mind, the way it had phrased things. I should take them off, change back, shouldn't I? Part of her definitely wanted to do just that, the same part of her that was desperate to cling onto the person she'd been for nearly a decade of her life.

Yet, she didn't try to remove them.

I... I don't want to lose this, whatever it is. I want... She watched that bulge in the panties, so much larger than she was used to, twitch suddenly, and the sight only spurred her on. I want more. She slipped her hand in again, and this time, she felt more than just horny.