Sasha Visits Miss Fondre's Factory

I like to steal other's characters and ideas and run with them. OK, what really happens is other's works trigger fantasies in my head, and I like to write them down in the form of stories. Some creators object to this and I then avoid doing this with their works. Others embrace my take on their works. Hopefully Melting23, the creator of Miss Beatrice Fondre, and One-Eyed-Pirate, the creator of Sasha don't mind me doing so with their works and characters. I invite anybody, especially the owners of the original creations, to revise my revisions, especially the dialog, which I am particularly bad at, since I think more like Sheldon Cooper of The Big Bang Theory than I do a normal person. Imagine Sheldon writing dialog for normal characters. I try to steal dialog (and inner thoughts) when it fits.

This is a rip-off of Miss Fondre's Factory Sasha's Visit.

It's a dark and gloomy night in the industrial district of Toonville City, as Miss Beatrice Fondre looks over her success in disgust, as she sips a fine cabernet. She yawns, overwhelmed with boredome...

"How has it come to this?" she muses.

"I've got everything a girl needs, money, clothes, fine wine, even robot slaves, but there's still nothing to do," she sighs, "what a bore."

Suddenly the alarm sounds, "Intruder alert! Level 23"

"Well well, its that Shasha girl, trespassing into my factory. Finally something interesting. This is going to be fun", she smirks.

Sasha bends over an looks down, her short skirt exposing her pink and white striped panties, "Hmm, a giant conveyor belt and roller, what is Miss Fondre making in this part of the factory?"

"My my, someone's a little too nosy for her own good. This area is normally off limits to bimbos like you. But as long as you're here, I might as well make the best of it."

With that a robotic arm pushes Sasha onto the conveyor. "Ow, that really hurts," Sasha exclaims as she lands with a thump. "What are you up to now Miss Fondre?"

"I'm making a parade balloon." Miss Fondre reveals over the intercom as Sasha's feet are flattened under the enormous roller."

"No!" Sasha protests, "I don't want to be a balloon."

About a minute latter Sasha fully emerges from the roller, flattened to a ten times her normal height and width.

It takes a couple more minutes for Miss Fondre to enter from the side door. She saunters over to the flattened Sasha and begins the process of folding her prize for packing.

About ten days later, Miss Fondre is at the staging area for the Macy's Thanksgiving parade. One of Miss Fondre's autonomous robots opens the storage crates and removes the folded balloon it contains. As Miss Fondre unfolds the Sasha balloon she comments, "Ready for your big day, and I do mean big." Sasha can only groan in her flattened state.

Soon Miss Fondre has the nozzle of the helium tank inserted in the mouth of the giant balloon and opens the valve. It takes over two hours to fully inflate the balloon, but even fully inflated it fails to lift off the ground. The robot brings another tank to Miss Fondre and she proceeds to over inflate the Sasha balloon. Sasha would have screamed at the pain of over inflation if she could have, but she couldn't. Finally, as the balloon reaches twelve times the length of Sasha's height it lifts off the floor of the hanger.

Miss Fondre summons her anchor robots, and each grabs a line. Soon the Sasha balloon is exiting the hanger and taking it's place between Underdog and Casper. The day is only slightly chilly, but the wind is enough to initially make Sasha cold enough to develop a couple of pokies. Sasha doesn't notice this however because she is too focused on the fact that her short skirt is flapping in the breeze and her panties are exposed to all eyes. Initially embarrassed, it soon occurs to her that perhaps somebody will notice her blushing, and realizing she is not just a balloon, but a real live toon girl, come to her rescue. It never occurred to her that the Underdog balloon in front of her was the real live Underdog transformed into a giant balloon years ago in Miss Fondre's factory for Simon Bar Sinister.

Halfway through the parade it was warm enough that Sasha no longer had cold induced pokies. Instead her pokies were the result of excitement, and the tremendous freedom she felt floating high above the crowd, just drifting lazily in the breeze. Indeed, even the exposure of her pretty panties has transformed from a source of embarrassment to a feeling of freedom. Sasha thinks how great it is being a parade balloon, and contemplates asking Miss Fondre transform her again next year, but next time wait till the day before Thanksgiving. It wasn't any fun being folded up in a crate for over a week.

All too soon the parade was over and Sasha was guided into the hanger. Soon she was deflated, and folded and packed into her storage crate. "This sucks." she thought as the lid closed. It looked like she would get the chance to be a balloon in the Thanksgiving parade, but not because Miss Fondre would be doing her the favor of transforming her the day before Thanksgiving.

Sasha spent over a month in misery, folded up in an unheated storage unit as the days got colder. She had a lot of time to contemplate her fate, and wondered if she was doomed to spend the rest of her life as a giant balloon. Actually, the thought of spending her life as a balloon didn't seem all that bad. She actually looked forward to being reinflated and floating free above the crowd. But she dreaded spending months folded up and stored in a crate. It wasn't just the pain of being folded, which was like having a constant severe back ache. It was mostly the boredom and loneliness she dreaded. Maybe she wouldn't feel quite so lonely if she knew the Krazy Kat balloon stored right next to her was the actual Krazy Kat.

Much sooner than she had anticipated, Sasha felt her storage crate being moved. Soon she was once more being unfolded, and felt helium entering her body. She was so excited that she was featuring pokies even before hitting the cold January air as she exited the hanger, a display that did not escape the notice of Miss Fondre. "Sasha's enjoying being a parade balloon far too much," thought Miss Fondre.

During the parade Miss Fondre contemplated how to address this issue of Sasha's enjoyment of what was intended to be her ordeal. By the time Sasha was once more being packed into her crate Miss Fondre had come to a decision. She instructed the driver of the transport truck to take the crate to the textile plant. A couple of hours later Miss Fondre was at the factory, feeling the fabric stored in the crate. "Yes, I think this material will do just fine," she thought. She went up to the control booth and programed the factory robots.
Soon the robotic hands were busy folding the Sasha fabric just as Miss Fondre had programmed. When the fabric was properly folded, it was inserted into the stitching machine. By the time the quilted bedspread exited the machine Miss Fondre was back on the factory floor ready to inspect her new linen. She spread it out to examine the "heads" side and was pleased to see that Sasha's face covered nearly the entire surface. Then she flipped it over and examined the "tails" side, observing that Sasha's pantied bottom was turned 90 degrees relative to her face on the other side.

Sasha spent the next six weeks on display covering Miss Fondre's bed. Every visitor to Miss Fondre's abode during these weeks was guided to the bedroom where she would present her trophy bedspread, initially to Sasha's embarassment, and later to Sasha's enjoyment.

Soon Valentine's Day rolled around. Feeling in a generous mood, Miss Fondre informed Sasha that she had come to feel Valentine's Day was the perfect time to for them to get even closer. So saying, she removed her bedspread and took it to her laundry room. Sasha was so fluffy Miss Fondre had a hard time stuffing the bedspread in the machine. But soon the machine was doing its job. First Shasha felt the battering of the agitator, then the dizzy spinning of the cylinder as the wash water was squeezed out of her. This was followed by the rinse cycle. In the end, Sasha wasn't sure whether whether her queasiness was caused by the spinning or the fabric softener. Soon she was transferred from the washer to the dryer. Just as Miss Fondre washed her in the hottest water she dried her at the hottest setting. Sasha felt like she was being cooked. In truth, Miss Fondre was simply trying to maximize shrinkage.

When Miss Fondre removed Sasha from the dryer she was ruined as a bedspread, but that didn't matter, since Miss Fondre had no intention of using Sasha as a bedspread again. Sasha had lost a lot of weight from the ordeal, but was far from being ready for her new use. Miss Fondre soon had the fabric spread out an got busy with an hot iron flattening and spreading out the shrunken fabric. "You should feel honored that I am spending so much personal time preparing your Valentine's Day surprise," Miss Fondre commented, "I normally have my robots do the manual labor or just hire people." Once the material was sufficiently thin, Miss Fondre sewed the corners and took it upstairs.

Soon Miss Fondre was stretching her new fitted sheet around her mattress face up. She kissed Sasha on the lips saying, "Happy Valentine's Day!" The proceeded to add the top sheet, cover, and a new bedspread. "Happy Valentine's Day indeed," Sasha ruminated, "I can't even see anything anymore." Later she wondered if the bedspread that took her place was really just a bedspread. Sasha was in a foul mood all day, then as night fell Miss Fondre pulled the top linen back and slid in on top her Sasha sheet. Soon Sasha was in a better mood as she realized that she was indeed much closer to her owner. Yes she thought, "Miss Fondre thinks by putting all the effort into making me her sheet she gave me a gift, but in truth I am her Valentine's Day gift." It wasn't till three days later that it dawned on Sasha she really was thinking of Miss Fondre as her owner.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months Sasha became ever more comfortable with being owned by Miss Fondre. She was even beginning to view her daily laundering as Miss Fondre showing how much she cared. Then the day came when, instead of immediately stretching Sasha sheet onto the bed after laundering, a bored Miss Fondre made the bed immediately after removing the dirty linen and tossing it into the linen bin. The first time Sasha spent several days in the laundry bin she was shocked. Then she was positively humiliated when she was folded and added to the stack of fitted sheets.

Later, Sasha started to feel special again when Miss Fondre "promoted" her to travel sheet. Miss Fondre didn't trust the housekeepers to always put clean linen on the bed and always changed it herself when she had to stay at a hotel. It occurred to Miss Fondre that she could be even more certain of having clean linen if she packed her own, and chose Sasha as her fitted sheet.

Sasha loved to travel, but she did wish she got to see more of the world than glimpses of hotel rooms. Still, had to admit that, considering she was just a bed sheet, she had it pretty good. Then one day she got her wish to see more of the world, unfortunately it was the hotel laundry. In a hurry, Miss Fondre had forgotten to pack her travel linen, leaving it behind. After being laundered, Sasha was bagged and sent to lost and found, where she spent several days worrying if her owner would come back to claim her.

Miss Fondre didn't bother to come back, but she did call the hotel. Soon she received a UPS package, and found her wayward sheet inside. "Bad sheet," she chastised. "you need to be punished." Soon Miss Fondre was in the laundry folding and further flattening the material until it was properly reduced in size. Minutes later she was once again sewing the material. When she was done there was not a square inch of Sasha herself visible. Instead, all that showed inside and out of the new pillow case was the red and white striped pattern of Sasha's panties. Minutes later Miss Fondre was squeezing a overstuffed pillow into the pillow case. Despite the pain and humiliation of being stitched into the form of a pillow case Sasha was happy to be safe at home.

Initially, Miss Fondre used her pillow covered in the red and white striped pillow case almost exclusively. The satiny feel of it was so comfortable. But as the weather warmed, the warmth of this living pillow case became a disadvantage. Thus Miss Fondre started favoring her conventionally covered pillow more and more. By the time allergy season rolled around, she was rarely using her red and white covered pillow. With standard handkerchiefs irritating her nose, it occurred to Miss Fondre that that the satiny feel of her red and white pillow case might be gentler on her nose. Thus Sasha once more found herself being folded and flattened to a smaller size. When her new handkerchief was ready, Miss Fondre first rubbed it against her cheek, then satisfied with the soft feel, pressed it against her nose and blew.