You lay there on top of a pile of dirty clothing as your mother stormed out, you tried to realize what you had become as you lay there, sliding slightly down the mound of clothing. You remembered what you had glared down at before the change, it had been a pair of silky rose pink panties, which you obviously were a copy of now, the real ones laying out of sight in a crumpled heap in the dusty, cobwebs behind the washing machine, thanks to your last frantic kicking motion.
A short while later, your mother returned, still looking annoyed but without knowing where you were, she could do little about it for now. You watched her crouch down in front of you and the clothing you lay on top of before she opened up the washing machine and began tossing in clothing. She bunched you up in her hand before you were tossed also into the metal barrel, more clothing quickly landing on top and burying you. You did not want to go through a wash cycle, you had once before and it had taken hours for your mind to stop spinning. Of course, you had no way of stopping it as she finished loading up the machine and poured in the detergent, turned the dials and walked off.
The next hour for you was nothing but motion, wetness, the taste of soap and the weight of sodden material all around you. It was torture, but possibly less so than whatever punishment your mother had planned. It didn't take long for your mind to get so dizzy you couldn't focus on anything and the next thing you knew as your head cleared, you were pegged up on the line, fluttering gently in the breeze with the rest of the damp garments. You tried to think how you would get out of this, but no ideas came to mind as you slowly dried off in the warm air.
As the evening passed, your sister came out with a basket and began taking the now dry clothing off the line, when she got to you, she didn't so much as give you a second glance before you were unceremoniously dropped in he basket like the rest of the clothes. Why would she, you were just another pair of panties to her. Neither her nor your mother realized you were still at home, they thought you were off hiding from your punishment somewhere. After all you had left the medallion behind and there had been no objects near it, so they didn't suspect you had become anything.
After she had gathered you up, she took the basket of clothing to her mother who had set up the ironing board. You listened to the sound of the TV as your mother ironed while watching her shows, passing the time with some background entertainment. She neatly ironed each article of clothing before putting them in one of three piles, hers, yours and your sisters. Finally it was your turn, lifted up and smoothed out, you saw the hot iron descending onto you before it pressed down hard, smoothing out your creases and causing great discomfort, if you had skin instead of fabric it would have hurt a lot more.
Eventually you were put into your mothers pile, more clothing folded on top of you as the ironing continued before it was all done. You felt the world shift and pressure push down on you as she lifted the pile with one hand under the clothing, one hand pushing down on top to keep them together. Before long you found yourself where you wished you were not, in your own mother panty drawer, folded neatly and tucked away with a dozen other pairs. To anyone in the world, it would look like a normal drawer of panties, no clue as to the fact there was a person trapped inside it.
You spent all night in that drawer, worried what the morning would bring, but powerless to change your fate, whatever it would be. You heard through the drawer, the sounds of your mother snoring gently, moving around in bed from time to time, but clothing did not sleep, so the night passed slowly for you. Of course eventually the morning did come and you heard the sound of your mothers alarm, waking her up for another day of work. Once she had left the room to go shower, your world was silence again, waiting for her to return. You couldn't believe you had gotten stuck like this, trapped as a pair of your mothers panties with no way of escape, but here you were.
You heard your mother re-enter the room, the sound of her hair dryer going for a while before her footsteps moved closer and light flooded back into your world. Your mothers hand reached in and paused before a slight smile appeared on her face and she grabbed you, lifting you out.
"Why not be a little naughty" She said quietly to herself, you weren't sure what she meant by that. She slid open another drawer and pulled out a little box and wires and casually slipped it into a pouch you didn't realize until now you had. You saw her hold a small remote and the click of a button before the box vibrated, making you vibrate, she clicked again and the vibrations became pulses of vibrations. Another click and you seemed to vibrate at a random interval. With cold horror filling you, it became very clear you were not just a pair of panties, you were a pair of vibrating panties. A pair of vibrating panties your mother apparently was about to wear to work discreetly. That would make you uncomfortable just knowing she did that, but you were the panties, that was so much worse!
She clicked the remote off and the vibrations stopped, before she slid you up her legs and you hugged her crotch and ass tightly, your straps snapping tight around her hips before being hidden away as she slid a smart skirt up her legs. In your mind you repeated the mantra of "No, no, no, no, no, no, no" Unable to believe this was happening as she made breakfast for herself and your sister, casually chatting with no hint of what she was wearing under her work clothes. You were mentally numb at the thoughts flooding your mind, but before long, your mother was on her way to work. As she got in the car, you heard the click of the remote and your panty form began to vibrate against her, making her gasp and breathe a little heavier. You could feel the warmth growing from her as you were forced to stimulate her.
You prayed for the batteries to die or something, but whatever the device was in your pouch, it was clearly made to last, this would be a long day for you, one you hoped would end and never be repeated. Already you began to feel damp and she wasn't even at work yet. You could taste everything as it began to soak into your fabric. Your mother finished her commute and headed into work, keeping her vibration setting low so she wouldn't give the game away and could tease herself longer. You silently screamed for someone to rescue you from your current shape, but if there was a god listening, they chose to ignore you...