Peach closed the door of the Peachy Keen Teahouse behind her, the door’s bell faintly jingling as she locked up for the night. It had been another long day at the teahouse, running around making sure everything was running smoothly, keeping drinks coming, and making sure all her staff and customers were as happy as possible. It was rewarding work, but it was exhausting, and her aching body longed to rest. Trudging through the familiar streets on her way home, her eyes fell on a store she’d never seen before.

       The storefront was strangely quaint, the stone and wood exterior old fashioned compared to the gleaming metal glass of most buildings along the street, even her own teahouse. Light spilt from a wooden bay window, revealing an interior filled with all sorts of strange-looking objects, whirling brass devices, stacked leather tomes, and bottles of all shapes and colours. A wooden sign hung above the door, a stereotypical witch riding a broomstick over a rose-like moon, the words ‘Rosewood Emporium’ written underneath in golden letters.

       “Don’t remember that being there,” Peach wondered to herself, about to set off before something about the shop called her attention back. She knew she ought to be heading home and to bed, but there was something about the place drawing her in, her curiosity only growing.

       Before she knew it, she was pushing open the wooden door, a bell chiming overhead. The inside was as warm and welcoming as she imagined, the air faintly smelling of spices, the whole place bathed in amber light, the atmosphere wonderfully comforting to her aching muscles. Walking inside, she quickly found herself lost amongst a maze of shelves, stretching out further than the exterior seemed to suggest. Turning the corner past a rack of flowing dresses, she stopped dead as a blur of fur and feathers dropped down in front of her. The caramel-coloured figure drew itself up on four pawed legs, folding a pair of wings behind it, a curiously feline face staring up at her.

       “Oh, sorry-” Peach was stunned by the impossible sight of the sphinx before her, the autopilot of her work mode kicking in, “I’m afraid I didn’t see you there.” Her calm voice didn’t betray the thoughts rushing through her head, trying to make sense of the mythological creature, the way it looked and moved too realistic to be a costume.

       “Not many people do,” the sphinx smirked, flashing a grin of sharp feet, her voice warm and purring, “and normally it would stay that way, but I’ve been left on night duty.”

       “Ah, I see,” Peach replied, still so polite and restrained, watching the sphinx pad her way around her, fixing her with an appraising eye.

       “Mmm, which means I’ve got to do this spiel”, the sphinx paused a moment to stretch out against the floor, claws glinting from her paws, lion’s tail swishing idly behind her, “I’m Phoibe, your name is Peach, this is a magic shop, and you’re here because you need something we can offer.” The store’s introduction was usually longer than that; but then again, most of the store’s staff were a lot less lazy than Phoibe was.

       “Nice to meet you, Phoibe,” Peach’s demeanour shifted slightly, relaxing a little after the sphinx introduced herself, even if she still had a hundred questions.

       “You look as tired as I am,” Phoibe purred, looking over the human, sensing the toll hours of rushing around the tea shop had on her, “I think I know something that can help”

       Without waiting for a reply, Phoibe padded off into the shop, her tail swishing behind her, and Peach trailing after. Deeper and deeper they went, the shelves slowly giving way for larger items: huge stuffed animals, suits of gleaming armour, furniture that looked like it belonged in a castle, and entirely too many cauldrons. The sphinx paused before a wooden bedframe, turning back to face Peach. It was made from stout beams of dark wood, each side carved with intricate forest patterns, woodland animals asleep amongst leaves and branches. Peach stepped closer, getting a better look at the bedframe. It might have been a good bed, but with only bare beams inside and no sign of a mattress, it didn’t seem very comfortable.

       “This bed is supposed to be really good for sleeping,” the sphinx padded around Peach, her feline form wrapping around Peach’s legs, a furred side gently nudging Peach closer to the bedframe.

       “Bed? You mean bed frame, right? Am I supposed to just put this under my own mattress, or...?”

       Phoibe paused for a moment, walking around the bed frame as if carefully appraising it, searching for a hidden mattress.

       “That’s weird…” she padded lazily back to Peach, gently pressing against the human’s waist, “it doesn’t seem to have a mattress, still, easy to fix,” with a sudden turn of speed and grace, Phoibe flicked a paw under Peach’s legs, sending her spinning and tumbling back over the edge of the bedframe, landing with a thud on the beams.

       “Hey!” Peach cried out, momentarily stunned by the impact, staring up at the rafters of the store and the smirking face of Phoibe peering over her. Feet scrabbling against the beams, arms reaching for the sides, she tried in vain to pull herself free from the bed. Her body seemed slow and heavy, still tired and aching from the day. “Maybe… I’ll just… stay here a moment…”

       “Don’t fall asleep, you’ll miss what happens next,” the sphinx teased, watching the surprised expression flash over Peach’s face, “oh, did I forget to say? Everything here can transform people~”

       “T- transform?” Peach squeaked back, panic starting to grow, the feeling that it wasn’t just being tired that was keeping her down in the bedframe. She could feel a weight growing inside her chest, pulling her down, the wooden beams running across the frame pressing into her back. She tried to shift herself upwards, resting on her elbows to look down on her body, her torso straining and protesting as it bent. Her dress started to pull tight across her belly, her waist pushing out to the sides, the black fabric smoothed flat across her, straining against the pink buttons, “what… what are you doing to me?”

       “Isn’t it obvious? A bed’s no good without a mattress,” Phoibe purred back, “and it’s not me that’s changing you, so don’t ask me to stop it.”

       Panic grew, Peach’s heart pounding in her transforming chest, her body still stretching out to the sides of the bed, as if desperate to fill it. She could feel the fabric of her dress pressing down into her body, each weave and crease merging with her skin, becoming a part of her. The buttons smoothed out, flattening into soft cotton, criss-cross lines forming as they changed to an embroidered pattern on her belly. The weight inside her grew, pressing out against her skin, pulling her back down against the bedframe. She could see her sides becoming straighter, running parallel to the wood, corners forming along the edges of her body.

       “Please, stop this-” she protested, her voice strained with fear and frustration, feeling her lungs pressed flat by the soft filling expanding inside her. Peach’s hips started to stretch outwards, matching the shape of her waist, growing more box-like as her thighs started to expand to match. Her panic grew with the feeling of her thighs pressing into each other, the soft and heavy material within forcing them together, skin starting to merge and blend together. In a desperate attempt to stop her change, she pushed her legs out to the side, bracing her feet against the corners of the frame, her shoes slipping from her feet as she strained.

       “No, no, no,” soon her shoulders were groaning too, her arms growing thick and heavy, drawn by some invisible force down to her torso. She could sense what was happening in her mind, more of her body turning into the mattress, the way the pink fabric of her skirt was mingling with her legs, her body turning into cotton and stuffing - eager for her arms to join the rest of her. Her chest and shoulders continued to expand, breasts rising thick and heavy over her, drawing flat as she stretched over her growing frame. With her body growing so large, it was getting harder and harder to keep her arms away from the rest of her. Her sides brushed against a bicep, the fabric of her dress knitting together, drawing her arm in. Desperate to keep it away, she scrabbled for purchase, accidentally pressing a hand against her stomach. For a moment, she could feel her fingers pressing down into her soft and immobile body before they too started to spread out and change with the rest of her, merging with the fabric of her dress.

       Peach’s frustration grew, an increasing feeling of helplessness, more and more of her rebellious body weighed down and immobile in the bed frame. Her skirt started to spread itself out over her sides, ruffled edges framing the bulky shape of her expanding thighs. Even as she pushed her legs apart, the dress drew them together, creasing over the protesting shape of her knee, and impossible weight drawing it down into her body. So little of her body seemed to remain, her head and a single arm free, the rest just embroidered patterns over an increasingly rectangular body.

       “I can’t be a mattress-” the words were almost silent, her lungs too stretched full of stuffing to draw much air, her voice catching in her widening neck.

       Her remaining arm was pressed against the side of her body, merging with the soft stuffing inside, fingers spreading out flat and wide over what was once her belly. Straining her changing neck to get a better look, she desperately tried to free her arm, pulling it free from the rest of her, only stretching it out more. It wasn’t long before her expanding neck started to press against her chin, her head sinking into it like a soft pillow. The numbing feeling spread to her jaw, creeping up over her cheeks. She relaxed back, relaxing her body, head sinking down into the bedframe. Peach felt her arm sinking down into her body, becoming just another part of the mattress. Pressure grew inside her head, her mouth filling with cotton and stuffing, soon filling the rest of her.

       “Funny, you definitely look like a mattress,” Phoibe’s head appeared above her, staring down at her helpless form, a smirk across her face, “and a very comfy one, too”.

       Pressure grew in her head, fierce and pounding, focussing in her eyes. Closing her eyes, as if desperate to stop the changes, she could still feel them expanding out of her body, more and more stuffing filling them. Her hat slipped down behind her head, weaving between strands of hair that stitched themselves through the fabric of her changing body. Peach’s eyes drew larger still, wider and wider as they covered what was left of her changing head, the pressure soon forcing her eyes open. Her vision was shifted, forced wider by the curve of her soft eyes, warped slightly by the creases in her embroidered fabric, her irises threads of brilliant pink fabric.

       Just when Peach felt like her head was stretched to its limit, another wave of stuffing ballooned out inside her, pushing her face wider and wider with each passing moment. Her vision stretched out wider, slowly reaching the edges of her body, and still pushing more. Her mouth drew out wider across her face, almost impossible to move, her voice so soft it was barely a whisper. More stuffing expanded inside her, pressure building until it finally broke free, a wave cascading across her face, stretching her fabric skin past its limit. A final yelp escaped her changed mouth as her eyes popped free from the rest of her, jumping slightly into the air, bouncing and wobbling as they landed back down.

       The swelling feeling finally slowed to a stop, the sensation of her heavy body resting in the bed frame strangely relaxing, nestled perfectly amongst the wooden sides. She was trapped by her new body, soft and weak and immobile, left at Phoibe’s mercy.

       “Mmm, much better,” the sphinx reached out with a paw, pressing it gently into Peach’s belly. She could feel her thick, fabric skin stretch and deform around it, the plush filling of her body pushing pack against the probing sphinx, “don’t worry, it will wear off after someone sleeps in you, though I think I’ll need a blanket…”

       Peach tried to speak or do anything to protest, powerless as she felt Phoibe’s claws dig into the fabric that was once her dress, feeling the points splitting aside fibres, gripping tightly. A swift tug and a flurry of sensations whipped through Peach’s body, threads and fabric pulling away from the rest of her body. A shape of black and pink whipped overhead, her dress and skirt pulled free from her, spinning itself into a fluffy blanket. Peach’s mattress body was left bare, only the faint embroidered outlines of her body leaving any hint she wasn’t just an ordinary mattress.

       Phoibe leapt up onto Peach in a graceful motion, soft paws landing on her body, stretching and squashing her. Padding around for a moment, Phoibe curled herself up, tugging an eye closer. Peach’s vision was filled with the deep caramel fur of Phoibe’s head, only a flicking ear visible, her soft fur tickling and teasing Peach’s fabric skin. Shifting a few more times, the sphinx got comfortable under the blanket, her rhythmic purring soon vibrating through Peach’s body, lulling her off to a strange sleep over her own.

       Only one question stayed on Peach’s mind:
       How long did sphinxes sleep?