Chapter 1

I became self-aware on a spring day of 2001. My first acquaintance was the nervous Chinese woman who made me. In the dirty reflection of her wire-rim glasses, I could see I was a black g-string panty. My only birth pang was the stitching of a white label with my size and washing instructions (cold water and tumble dry). I am a size M. My body consists of two long strings sewn together in the back and to each corner of my triangular head. For reasons not known to science, I am a thinking being who has full use of all human senses. My Creator held me up and quickly examined me for physical defects, and, of course, finding none of consequence, tossed me into a box of others of my species. I turned to my nearest neighbor, a like g-string of the color pink and said, "Good morning! Isn't life wonderful."

My pink neighbor didn't respond. Hummp! In this exciting world only a few minutes and my neighbor has already pissed off at something I've done. I addressed the bright red undergarment on my other side and received a similar chilly response. Was I malformed? Was my cotton malodorous? I lay in my box as others of my race descended onto me, covering me, and blocking my vision. Hundreds of colorful sisters fell on me but none would speak to me. It became clear as the day progressed and the box filled that I was alone in a crowd of mutes.

As the light grew dim I knew darkness would hide me from this new world of mine. I looked at the thin strings that held me together. Concentrating I willed the string to move upward. It moved!! I concentrated on my strings wrapping around some of my sisters higher in the box. I wrapped my strings around six of my species and pulled. I slowly rose through the box. It took me an hour to rise to the top. After that I would drag myself over the others to stay on top.

I climbed up though the box for a day. I watched my world and mulled my fate. Could I be some mistake of reincarnation? Was I meant for the body of a beauty only to end up being her underwear? What kind of sin could I have committed in my past life to deserve this? Could I have been Hitler, Stalin, or a bad standup comic? I will go insane if all I can do was ask rhetorical questions all my life.

As my Creator was leaving for the day a lift truck came and carried me away in the box. How do I know it's a lift truck? I don't know. I was created with a core of knowledge I have no memory of learning. A self-aware undergarment should be accepted for what it is-a miracle, so let's leave it at that.The large box where I spent my first day of life dumped me out on a conveyor belt. I traveled by several more Chinese women, one of whom picked me up and stuffed me into a clear plastic bag along with two of my silent sisters. One black, myself, one white and one pink, colors for all occasions. A pass under a hot iron bar to seal the plastic, a quick trip by a stapler and then I was put into another box. I was quickly buried under the similar packages. Trapped inside the plastic stopped me climbing my way up. I lay contemplating my fate when I was plunged into a deep darkness. I fell asleep, and dreamed of cotton fields and sewing thread.

How long I slept I had no idea. It could have been hours, days or weeks. A bright light made me squint (I can squint. I don't understand the mechanism, having no eyes). I realized that the packages above me were being removed from the box. I saw my savior, a girl in her late teens, she had four small rings in her right ear, three in her left, and one in her nose, and one through her lip. She wore a nametag that read, "Emily." Emily pulled me from the large box and tossed me into a smaller box. I saw above her nametag the word TARGET. I was confused by the ambiguity of the word. The various meanings I turned over in whatever part of my triangular head served as a brain. This could be very good or very bad. I hoped for the meaning of large department store chain.

After filling her smaller box she carried me out into a large room with other articles of clothing hanging from hangers, rods, and hooks. I went on a rod that slipped through a small hole in my package. I swayed for a brief time then was still.

From my perch on the rod I began my study of human beings. Many walked by my new home. Twice on my first day there young girls pulled off the rod one of the packages that blocked my view. I could now easily peek through the clear plastic of the package of green, red, and blue panties that were the remaining package between the world and me.

The humans that approached me most often were younger ones. Older women preferred the packages hanging from a stand a few feet to my right. The panties there were made of far more material than I. I couldn't see any string used in their construction.

Two young women approached my home. The taller wore a very short skirt and a short top that revealed her belly button. The shorter wore jeans that barely hung to her hips. I could hear them discussing us.

The taller one, said, "You can't buy these, Katie. Your mom will kill you if she sees them."

Katie pulled the package before me from the rod. I now had a clear view of the two uniquely dressed girls. Katie held it up. "But, Pam. These are so cool, and they don't cost much. You kick in two dollars and you can pick the pair you want."

"Katie, we're going to get in so much trouble for this." Pam pulled me from the shelf and squeezed me through the package. I found this strangely exciting.

"Come on, Pam. I know just where to hide them. We can put them on in the girls bathroom at school and no one will ever know we own them."

Pam took the package from Katie and held it next to mine. "I want the pink one's then."

"Cool, I'll take the black and white ones. Give me two bucks."

Pam handed her two dollars, and Katie carried me to a counter and laid me on it. I looked at my new owner and saw she couldn't be more than fourteen. I saw how tight her jeans were and wondered at being crushed by the tight denim. She had blonde hair streaked with a burgundy color. Her body was slim; she was really quite attractive. The girls combined their money and soon I was in a bag. The bag was opaque plastic so I had light enough to see that I was worth 3/$9.95 plus tax.

I only spent about an hour in the bag; it was too bright to sleep so I just listened to the girls' conversations as they walked though the mall. Their topics of conversation were limited. They talked about boys and sex. Sex didn't open any mental doors for me. My knowledge of this was nonexistent. Boys, I gathered where a sport of some kind. The game seemed to be: capture one, play with it for a while, use him until no longer desired, and then to toss him away to capture another and repeat the process. I heard Pam and Katie assign ratings to their girl friends based on their success in the boy game. A girl that failed and couldn't capture a boy was called a virgin. One or two successes moved you to a newbie, more success led you to be popular, and the final classification where capture was routine and accomplished with little effort earned the girl the title of slut. While Katie and Pam would classify passing girls in this fashion I quickly learned that both girls sat on the bottom rung. They were virgins. Each had hope. Katie had her nets ready to pull in Craig. Pam was very earnest about harvesting Jason. They discussed strategy on the bus ride to Katie's house. I was proud to learn that my two unaware sisters and myself were part of this strategy. Not understanding the complexity of the game, I was still more than willing to become part of this thrilling contest.

Katie and Pam, after arriving home, immediately ran up to Katie's room. She carefully made sure that no one was home. Game preparations, being most sensitive, led Katie to lock her door and pull down her window shade. The girls removed their clothing below the waist and ripped open my home. Pam grabbed for my silent friend, Miss Pink, while Katie took me in her strangely trembling fingers. I saw Katie's discarded panties where also black, but of a more substantial construction. I recognized such panties would be easily observed through clothing. The lines would be unattractive leading the wearer to be seen as less than fashionable. My thin strings would give a smooth line to any clothing. I was the core of high fashion.

She put her feet between my strings and pulled me up. As she settled me into place I saw a rather odd looking face behind me. The mouth was vertical and had two thin lips. Above the lips was a small nose hidden behind a protective fold of skin. While this was more of a face than I had, it still was curious.

"Uh, hello?" I wasn't sure I would get a response. No one had talked to me yet.

The nose poked out, and I felt that I was being examined. "Hello," came the reply.

We were in such close contact; I knew communication had to be handled with care. I knew I must converse at a whisper, "Excuse me, but I am very glad to finally find someone to talk to."

I watched the lips move slightly, "I must say I've never had a pair of panties talk to me before."

"I've never had anyone talk to me. What are you, if I may be so bold?"

The lips quivered and the nose lengthened. "I am a Vagina."

"This is your name? Vagina?" From her soprano voice I assumed it was a she.

"No, no. That is simply what I am. My owner calls me Miss Kitty. It seems to be a joke I just don't understand, but that is what she calls me."

"I don't think I have a name. What can you call me?"

"Well, considering how much you block the room light, I'll call you Blackie."

I was most satisfied with my new name. "Thank you, I like that name very much."

The conversation lagged after acquiring my new name. My new owner was very pleased with me. She showered me with praise as in, "these new panties are so hot. Craig will love them." She stood in front of a mirror and turned to the left and right. She turned around and pressed her thumb on her round bare buttocks and made a hissing sound.

Pam derided this. "You wouldn't dare show these to Craig. He would think you were such a slut for wearing them."

"He would not. He would think they were sexy." I was confused as to Katie's disappointment in being declared a player of the game at the highest level.

Pam laughed. "Yeah, when they were hanging from his bed post."

Katie laughed, "Yeah, bitch, I wish." The conversation was leaving me winded.

Miss Kitty said, "My owner is trying to interest Craig in me. You're the decoration to attract him."

"What is your purpose? Why would Craig be interested in you?"

"I am Katie's pleasure center."

"Pleasure center?"

"I provide warm, tingly feelings to Katie's body. I make these feelings build until I explode, not physically mind you, but very, very figuratively."