“Okay, 3… 2… 1…” Evie was gripping Lotte tightly, grateful to have the large paws (and muscles) of a werewolf, her claws wrapped around Lotte’s shoulders. She’d already quickly dispelled the magic binding Lotte’s golden form to the door, but magic was tenacious and sometimes needed a little bit of physical persuasion. 

“Heave!”



Evie pulled back, letting the bulk of her body do much of the heavy lifting, the claws of her feet digging into the ground for purchase. Lotte felt a sucking, pulling feeling at her pack then in an instant was free! Then tumbling through the air, shock written across Evie’s lupine face as the pair of them tipped backwards. Evie landed with a dull thud on the hard ground, while Lotte landed much more comfortably on Evie’s chest, golden breasts squishing against the witch’s.

“Okay,” Evie groaned, the wind knocked out of her by the sheer weight of Lotte’s body lying on her chest. She slowly staggered up, one hand pushing against the ground, the other cradling Lotte against her, giving the erstwhile door knocker an ample view of Evie’s furry cleavage.



“Now what…?” Came Lotte’s muffled voice.



“Now,” Evie began, hefting Lotte up and away from her. There was a brief flash of heat, then Lotte felt a dizzying sensation of weightlessness and Evie’s hands dropping away beneath her. Lotte was floating, bobbing about in the air before Evie, the occasional breeze sending her tipping slightly. She was a little grateful her current body was pretty boob heavy, or she worried she’d spin upside down. “We wait,” Evie continued, “for this latest magic to wear off. Now you’re free of the door, there’s no reason for you to stay a door knocker…”

“Just knockers, then?” Lotte smirked. Bobbing about, her massive nose-ring still clattering gently across her golden chest. She looked down, trying to see past it, hoping to see some colour return to her breast. They’d changed so many times already… first swelling into being and still covered in fur before a latex outfit had emerged from her skin, binding her chest tightly. Then the harness emerged during her stint as a pony, before they’d become the clear glass globes of a living drinks machine. Now they were gold, perfectly round save for the flattened portion where the ring rested. 

“Well, hopefully not for much longer.”

Already, Lotte could feel movement returning to her body. A strange sort of relaxation. The feeling of her body being locked in place by some unseen force now easing off. She could move her arms a little, then her paws, digits flexing against the still-solid curve of her breasts. Gradually, the golden gleam of her chest was dying down, turning clear and slightly pink, fading into that strange combination of glass and latex her breasts had become. Only the nipples remained golden, glittering brightly in the evening sun. Soon, with the sensation of peeling skin off glue, her hands became unstuck. Lotte lifted them away, flexing her muscles as sensation returned, a tingling flurry as gold gave way to fur emerging down the lengths of her arms.



Evie stifled a giggle, biting her lip. Seeing Lotte floating there, mostly just arms and boobs, was strange enough. Seeing her torso gradually reappearing was even stranger, with the pink legs of a carousel horse little more than stumps. As Lotte’s golden body changed, the weight of it flowed back down her body, a weirdly fluid sensation of her centre of mass shifting. Fortunately, the return transformation was speeding up. Gold had changed back to fur across her torso, and she was quickly regaining feeling in her legs, aside from a bit of pins and needles. Soon, the black latex hooves that were a relic of her pony transformation were brushing against the grass below.



“I think you can put me down now,” Lotte said, peering over her body, checking it was all still there. She remained a patchwork of her different transformations, now joined by golden nipples, and (much to Lotte’s frustration) the heavy ring still dangling from her nose. It had shrunk a little, enough that it wasn’t just banging against her breasts the whole time, but large enough that the weight of it still tugged at her muzzle, threatening a sneeze. She didn’t want to think what would happen if it clanged against her glass chest… 

“Not yet. It’ll make your next change easier…” Evie replied, before muttering an incantation under her breath.

Lotte gulped, awkwardly trying to remain upright in the air. Every slight movement made her wobble, threatening to tip herself over. She could feel a familiar warmth playing across her body, the faint wisps of magic suffusing her body once again. They seemed to dance through her, the energy of Evie’s spell intertwining with the many threads and layers of enchantment already woven through Lotte’s body; dispelled, but not truly banished. Lotte couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about this magic felt different than before.

She felt a tugging sensation around her ankles. Not quite like they were being stretched, or that something was dragging her feet down. More like her body was pulling itself apart. An elastic feeling, warm with friction and energy, the latex flesh of her equine legs splitting and separating and peeling away from itself until her feet hung loose below her. She looked down as the sensation of invisible hands played across them, mirroring Evie’s strange gestures. The shape of them smoothed out, hoof and ankle blurring together, tugging out slightly. Then the feeling of something pressing in from above, effortlessly sculpting flesh out of the way, hollowing out her feet into rough boots. Squashed together and smoothed out, she felt her skin hardening into tough leather, its surface stiff and gleaming. A moment later and cool air played through her reshaped feet, what were once hooves opening up into wide toes, her feet looking like the cross between boots and sandals. At the back, sturdy heels emerged, pushing down, stopping at a respectable few inches. She studied the shape of them, wondering if they were the sort of thing a werewolf witch might wear on a night out…

Evie stayed quiet, focused on her magic, whispering the incantation winding through Lotte’s body.

“Hey, Evie-” Lotte began, a little concerned, “what are you doing?” She could feel the magic playing its way up her legs. They felt not quite like jelly. Looser, shaking about in the air. Her muscles were tired and unresponsive, her bones soft and flexible. Her legs swayed, thighs brushing together, sticking to one another. Flesh flowed and merged, thighs then knees then ankles zippering together. Held tight, at first, then starting to spread outwards as that same hollowing feeling moved up through them. With nothing inside, they started to billow outwards, latex shifting about like fabric. Warmth spread through her skin; a tingling feeling as the latex shifted, softening, growing dark and dull as Lotte watched. A weird sensation not unlike the feeling of her fur growing back moments ago, but it felt more confined. Thin strands not standing or bristling but weaving together, shifting past one another as her legs continued to spread out in rolling folds of cloth, a widening skirt forming around her. 

Again, despite the strange changes running through Lotte’s body, it felt annoyingly good. Relaxing, almost freeing. A liberating feeling that although her body was rebelling against her, she was really in good hands. Even the sensations were pleasurable, the slight ripples running through her body as still latex gave way to soft fabric. The lightening feeling running through her torso. Muscles relaxing and fading away, breathing slowing, a calm flowing through her body. Her chest relaxed, the unnaturally perfect curves of her chest collapsing down, solid glass and firm latex both fading into the midnight-black fabric of a dress. Lotte ran a paw down her chest, feeling the smooth fabric crumple and crease under her touch, nothing behind or inside her to push back against it. A shiver of pleasure ran through her, the slight warmth of friction sending tingles through her fabric skin. Yet with the empty feeling inside her body, Lotte felt a strange desire to be filled…

Soon it became harder to move her arms, the same hollow feeling running down them. They slumped, slightly awkwardly, creasing and crumpling before they flopped down by her sides. Paws grew numb, digits relaxing. Lotte’s palms pushed inwards, wrists hollowing out, running up her arm to connect with the rest of her empty inside as arms changed into simple sleeves. Her fingers blended together, forming a wide band of fabric. As each thumb brushed against her fingers, they joined together, the fibres of her skin weaving into a strong loop of fabric at the ends of her arms. A tugging, tightening feeling ran up Lotte’s transformed arms and she watched as they shrank upwards slightly. Fabric bundled together, crumpling, puffing outwards at the shoulders. For a more stylish look, the voice echoed in Lotte’s mind, Evie’s voice intruding into her thoughts.

“Yeah, it does look kinda nice,” Lotte had to admit, voice faint. A part of her wasn’t sure if that was really her opinion, or a part of Evie’s magic. Each change came with new instincts, an adjustment to her mind so she would be more at ease to her new body. Like she’d been born with it. What instincts would a dress have? The desire to be worn? An appreciation of its own style?

Only her head was left; with the thick latex collar that had started Lotte’s series of transformations now a stark dividing line between dress and snow leopard. She could sense her head… fading away? Unnecessary for the dress she was becoming, it felt as though she was being pulled down into the collar. Flesh rippled and flowed, drawn down into the thick leather. The golden nose-ring slipped down, clinking as it settled onto the collar’s o-ring, the two interlocking, joining together like a magician’s parlour trick.

As Lotte’s head flowed into her collar, her consciousness, her awareness, her senses all slipped into her collar with it. Her perception of the world shifted: even without eyes or ears, she could still sense the world around her and still perceive Evie standing there, weaving the last parts of the spells together. Her sense of self shifted, adapting to her new existence as a few items of clothing, waiting to be worn.

Finally, the collar itself started to shift. Shrinking, growing lighter, pulling up away from the rest of Lotte’s dress body. The latex collar shifted to black fabric like the rest of her. The thick material grew thinner and lighter into a simple loop of lace. The heavy metal o-ring shrank away, flattening and warping into a simple moon-like disc at the end of the ribbon, her golden nose ring looping into the fiery fringe of an eclipsed sun around it.

“There, perfect,” Evie said, relaxing slightly. She stepped forward, admiring the dress before her. The perfect witchy dress for the evening’s festivities… and the perfect way of keeping Lotte out of trouble. All traces of Lotte’s patchwork of transformations had been magicked away, everything was under control. “Sorry to do this to you, but I think you’ll have fun.”

I hope so, Lotte thought to herself, you’d better change me back later…



“Don’t worry, there’s a witch or two I can ask for help there,” Evie spoke, apparently reading Lotte’s mind. With a quick motion, she shredded what remained of her old dress, her furry form bare in the woodland clearing. The sight of her tickled the back of Lotte’s mind, a certain awareness that the werewolf was just the right size for the dress she’d become. A furred hand reached out, more carefully plucking Lotte’s dress from the air, leaving the boots and necklace where they floated. Lotte felt herself collapsing, draping her form over Evie’s arm. From her strange awareness in the floating lace, Lotte could see her body clearly: little more than a dress, impossible to tell it was her if it weren’t for the sensations of being moved about by Evie. The witch bundled her up, moving her overhead, and Lotte felt the furred form slipping inside her. 

The sensation was simultaneously mundane and wonderful. Intensely intimate, in a way Lotte wasn’t prepared for. She’d been used before, even manhandled, but this was… different. As though her whole purpose was devoted to Evie. Feeling her lupine body shifting inside her own. Her shaggy fur ruffling against her fabric body, the occasional tuft catching in the weave of Lotte’s fabric skin. The shape of Evie filling her up, stretching her out. Her loose form running over Evie’s shoulders. Those thick, lupine paws shifting down the length of her sleeves, thumb slipping through the loop that her hands had become. It held Lotte’s arms tight against Evie’s own, feeling every flex and movement as Evie continued to tug Lotte about herself. Lotte could feel the rise and fall of Evie’s chest within her, the folds of her fabric settling over the curves of Evie’s breasts. The flowing skirt her legs had become resting over Evie’s hips, feeling her thighs shifting gently beneath. Evie’s tail swished back and forth idly, carrying some of Lotte’s body with it, dancing in the cool air. A quick reach behind her, the feeling of  fur ruffling against fabric, and Evie pulled her tail through a neat gap at Lotte’s waist. 

Wow was all Lotte could think. 

Evie took a few steps, carrying Lotte with her. Paws reached forward, slipping Evie’s legs into the boots Lotte’s hooves had become, pulling the leather tight around her paws. Lotte’s boots swiftly went from floating weightlessly to feeling the full mass of Evie pressing down on them. Intense and impossible to ignore. Lotte was even acutely aware of the shape of Evie’s paw pads, the curves of them pressing down onto the soles of Lotte’s feet. Evie stepped back slightly, dragging even more of Lotte together. The weight relaxed in one foot and pressed down more firmly in the other, then balancing out again. A rhythmic sensation of tensing and relaxing as Evie walked about. Grass and mud yielding around the soles of Lotte’s boots. 

“Mmm, very comfy,” Evie spoke, and Lotte couldn’t be sure if she was talking to Lotte or to herself. Then Lotte’s perception shifted, hands carefully reaching for the floating lace, deftly looping it around Evie’s neck. She felt herself settle there, loose but secure, her perspective shifting almost to match Evie’s own. “There, perfect,” Evie muttered to herself, content Lotte was resting in place, “now to get ready…”

Evie whistled to herself, picking up the scraps of tattered fabric, walking back through the door Lotte had briefly guarded and into the warm interior of her emporium. Along the way, she absently fiddled with the lace around her neck. For some reason it was feeling more snug than it should. A little more… solid?



“Oh no,” Evie said aloud.



Oh no? Lotte thought, not sure what was worrying Evie.

Around Evie’s neck, Lotte’s lace grew tighter. Thicker. Heavier. The fabric felt like it was oozing inky black latex as the original collar started to reassert itself. Even Lotte could feel herself hugging Evie’s neck, pressing firmly into her fur, moulding herself to match the shape of Evie’s body perfectly. Just as the collar had done when Lotte first put it on. Now she was the collar, and Evie was wearing her, so what did that mean…?



Evie dashed to a mirror, Lotte’s boots squeaking against the stone floor. Each impact shook through her with a flash of heat as her soles rubbed over the ground. Her fabric body billowed out behind Evie, though for some reason she didn’t feel quite so free as before.

Evie and Lotte soon stood before the mirror, the werewolf’s chest rising and falling, stretching Lotte’s body with each panting breath. Evie’s eyes looked straight to her neck, where the thick black collar now sat, a gleaming pair of silver and gold rings hanging from it. Lotte’s attention was fixed lower down, to her dress-like body. Was it her imagination, or was she hugging Evie more tightly than before? She could feel Evie’s body more clearly, as though she was vacuum wrapped around her: the slightest curve of muscles and fat on her torso, even the pulse of her beating heart under her skin.



“Oh no,” Evie repeated, sensing Lotte’s attention, feeling it too. The previously loose fabric of Lotte’s body was wrapping around her. Fabric slowly shifting back to latex, a purple shine spreading across Lotte’s dress as the old spells reasserted themselves. Evie’s magic had been strong enough to overpower them, but only when she’d been concentrating on the spell. I’m a fool, Evie thought to herself, the words echoing in Lotte’s mind as well. All she’d really done was pushed the enchantment deeper into Lotte’s body. Lotte wasn’t just wearing an enchanted collar, she was the enchanted collar… and now Evie was wearing her.



You’ve got to be kidding me, Lotte thought. If being Evie’s dress was intimate, this was even more intense, their bodies practically intertwined. 

The dress grew tight. Impossibly tight. Sleeves wrapped around Evie’s arms, those loops of fabric around her thumbs pressing against her palms. Lotte’s and Evie’s bodies seemed to move as one: every bulge and stretch as Evie ran her hands down her body was felt by the other. The skirt drew around Evie’s legs, wrapping tightly, squeezing her thighs together. By now, all traces of black fabric were gone, replaced with the same purple latex that had made up Lotte’s body. Only now it was tightly hugging Evie’s body, melting and mingling with her fur, joining them together. Evie gasped, feeling her chest rise, or perhaps Lotte drawing tighter around it. Lotte felt herself stretched out across them, tightening more with each movement until the tension gave way, replaced by the peeling sensation of herself opening up. A slight tear at Evie’s cleavage, drawing out wider into a wide over, a perfect boob window on Evie’s chest. For Evie, it still felt impossibly tight, squeezing and pushing soft flesh and tufts of unruly fur out of it. For anyone watching, like a cat in the rafters, very little was left to the imagination. 

Evie had little time to worry. She could feel the boots riding up her legs, leather replaced with gleaming latex as it tightly wrapped around her calves, moving up higher and higher. The boots rose up under the edges of her pencil skirt, hugging the tops of her thighs. Soft flesh spilled over, squeezed out by the tightening boots. Tufts of fur stuck out the top, where it hadn’t mingled with the tide of latex merging with her body. Evie felt a pressure under her heels, something pushing upwards, forcing her to shift about on her paws. As a werewolf used to walking on her digits, she’d sculpted Lotte’s shoes with a decent heel, but now the magic was determined to push it to the limit. Lotte could feel herself getting drawn out under Evie’s foot, the heels stretching out longer and thinner, pushing against the werewolf’s weight. The feeling of pressure was immense as they drew out, forcing Evie into an ever more precarious pose. Her calves and thighs tensed, squeezing out against the tight latex of Lotte around them. Her ass pushed outwards, lifting the pencil skirt, tail swishing. Even her breasts rose a little higher, even more on display. Every movement became intense for both of them, muscles and latex flexing as one. Each step forced Evie’s hips to sway, tail swishing behind, brushing against the smooth latex of Lotte’s body. 

Well, Lotte thought, unsure if she should be smiling or despairing, at least we’re in this together.

“Don’t worry,” Evie replied, with ill-deserved confidence, “I’m sure I can find a way to change us back…”

Behind came the padding of feline paws, just loud enough that an embarrassed witch would notice them, and Phoibe purred from behind, “don’t tell me you’re going out dressed like that!”