Daisha always had a thing for tight places. She loved hide and seek as a kid, trying to find the most improbable spots. She would hide in the laundry hamper, or in a shelf of the hall closet, or the one time she squished into the oven. To say she did not know the meaning of claustrophobia would be an understatement.

Her choices in life did not model this love, so she worked around it. She works at a typical office building as an actuary (she finds it funny to hear people put “tight spaces” as part of their risk management). As a “professional yet functioning” goth, she wears a corset under her normal, loose-fitting black outfit, because she likes being squeezed. She buys narrow shoes for her average feet to feel confined, which are covered by her black pants which are a size too long (nearly dragging the ground behind her). Even though her hair style looks loose and unkempt, it is actually pulled tight towards the top of her head, where her longer hair spills back over top of it. She even found a shorter bed to put in her apartment to make her feel closed in at night.

So, when they released the magic-based Person-in-a-Can, she knew she had to try it. A person can literally step into this magic can, being mystically compressed until they are inside. Another person can screw the lid on tight, effectively trapping them inside. The label on the can or glass jar (their biggest seller) would start to change, matching that persons original height or weight or gender or whatever you wanted. Then for an upgrade charge, you can make the label editable for when you are released. The effects are temporary, but it makes for a fun night. The only two concerns the public has are: someone has to open the lid to get you out, as you are completely trapped in the jar, and removing a label and replacing it with another, is that ethical?

Needless to say, Daisha did not care. Her new boyfriend seemed trustworthy enough, so she wanted to try it. He had just got out of a bad relationship with her boss, and she was keeping her feelings for him a secret for now. She was still “miffed” at him, so Daisha was keeping her personal life in the shadows. They had been going out for a couple of weeks now, so she had shared her fetish with him already. She convinced him to “pack her” into his gym bag when he went to the gym last week. She thought she might get a free flight with his company paying for just one plane ticket, but she still can't figure out how to get past the scanners at the airport...yet.

Several places offer the cans and jars, so she bought one. Wanting to surprise her boyfriend, she had it shipped to her at work. She thought she might try it out first anyway, just part of her body at a time, then later this week, have him “push” her in for the night or longer. When she clicked on “pay now”, she got all giddy. “This is gonna be awesome,” she whispered to her work computer.

Friday came too slowly, but Daisha finally had her can in hand. Actually, she got the glass jar version, as it was nearly half the already-ridiculous price. She didn't really care about the price, but rent was pretty high at her apartment, and her boyfriend was living there rent free (and eating her food). Pushing those negative thoughts aside, she unboxed her prize.

Looking at it, it seemed quite ordinary. The glass care was clear with a broad label all the way around it. The label had blanks next to 'gender', 'skin color', 'height', 'upper-middle-lower dimensions', 'shelf life'. She had the label customized for her, hoping to give her some flexibility with her outcome, but not too much. Squish me, squeeze me, but don't change me, she thinks to herself.

Unscrewing the golden metal lid, she looks inside...empty. The lid has some instructions on the inside and outside. Reading the top, it says: be sure to screw the lid on tight for the label to work. Also, it said something about setting the 'shelf-life' before getting in, to make sure you can get out. Actually, she thinks, I couldn't still get out alone, but it will send an alarm or alert to whomever I pick to let me out.

The inside of the lid had the other warnings: don't get in unless you want to, don't do this alone, always ask a trustworthy person to be your partner in this, etc. There was plenty of “legaleze” on the inside to protect the company. In some ways, this would scare the average person out of doing it, but for Daisha, it just made her want it more and more.

Setting it down on her desk, she spins her office chair around several times. Mmm, hugging herself, I can almost feel it wrapping itself around me. She nearly grabbed the jar and tried, but she knew she couldn't. Looking at the time, she knew she had to grab a quick bite of food before her afternoon meeting. Leaving the jar next to her computer, she rushes out to get something from the company cafe down in the basement of the building.

It was nearly 3 o'clock when she got back to her office. Most people had gone home already, and she thought she might have too, but her lunch got shortened by her over-bearing boss texting everyone to be there early. In the end, she started late and they ended late. Ah well, Daisha thinks, it's the weekend and that witch can go hang herself for all I care.

As she starts to pack up, she notices her jar again. Hmm, maybe just a foot to make sure it works out? She questions. I mean, she reasons, if it doesn't work, I would need to send it back. I don't want to be disappointed in front of my boyfriend. Talking herself into it, she pulls the jar to her then sets it on the ground. She slips off her tight shoes and wriggles her toes.

Catching herself, she peaks out her office door. No one around and most everyone (or maybe everyone) gone. Stepping back in, she sits down in her chair and eases her foot into the mouth of the jar. She can instantly feel the magic compressing her foot. She has tried many things to be confined, but there was nothing like this. She can literally feel herself being made smaller. It was an amazing feeling, and she let out a short but loud squeal of glee. Clamping down on her mouth, she looks around again. Not hearing anyone, she tries the other foot.

Now her ankle filled the entire opening of the jar, so how could her other foot fit? She slipped her toe carefully inbetween her ankle and opening. As if the magic knew what she wanted, she found her foot compressing, thinning. As she pushed, the comfortable enclosure wrapped her foot warmly. Again, she nearly let out a squeal of delight as her other foot slipped into the jar. Still sitting in the office chair, her feet were no longer on the floor, but rather in the jar. Moving her legs around, she looks are her missing feet, enjoying the feeling of tightness, compression, shrinking. “Mmm,” she whispers, “This is heavenly.”

Not paying attention to her posture, she moves to shift her weight, but the office chair, which is on wheels, reacts to her. Instead of steading herself, the chair rolls backwards towards her office door. Daisha moves her arms to remain balanced, leaning forward as well. Like what you would expect a person to do, she moves her center of mass to be above her feet. Before she can realize her mistake, she sinks into the jar.

Within an instant, her knees are gone, merged into one tight fold in the bottom of the jar. Her thighs become like rubber bands being folded and squished above her knees. She later thought her butt might stop her “fall”, but it was neatly folded around and into her...”Oh!” she lets out a moan as her body is folded into itself. “That was uncom...oh”, and again she feels some discomfort as her stomach and kidneys and other internal organs are compressed into the tight space of the jar.

When she stops moving, she can see that she in on the floor above the jar. Her breasts, though not as impressive as her boyfriends would like, had stopped her. Looking around the jar, every part of her lower body is within the jar. Like some type of female-human-plant, her arms raised above her head and her whole lower parts compressed into the tiny jar. Taking a shallow breath, she says, “I don't know if I should be excited or scared right now.”

She tries to move her lower extremities, but nothing happens. Wherever her body happened to land in the jar, it got shoved in and around, filling it up. “How will the rest of me fit?” As she ponders her next move, she does not notice a set of high-heeled feet stop in front of her door. Pushing Daisha's chair back into her office, the smartly dressed woman walks in and looks down on the floor. “Well, Daisha,” the woman says, startling Daisha, “You seem to be growing quite nicely.”

Daisha spins awkwardly, using her hands to grip along her desk. Keeping her balance, she eventually turns to see her boss, Angela Libb. Her high heels an panty hose and knee-lenth skirt and her buttoned top and her coat and her hair and her make-up look impeccable. Daisha cannot help but cringe in her presence, thinking of the amount of money and time Angela must spend getting ready for work each day to look like that. She is a corporate tool for sure, Daisha says to herself smugly.

Angela's tapping foot brings Daisha back to her predicament. “Uh, yes, Miss Libb,” Daisha chuckles awkwardly, “It appears I have a knack for growing...uh, people.” Angela's smile is cold and seems wrong on her hard face. “I assume this is not company time we are wasting, correct?” Angela walks a bit closer, pulling the chair behind her now to sit in it. She crosses he legs, nearly kicking Daisha in the head. “Oh no...well, I mean...I'm still at work, but I got distracted by my present here.” Realizing that her answer was not a good one, she adds, “But, I will not charge the company for this, Miss Libb. Once I get out of here,” she grabs the desk edge to pull herself out, only succeeding in pulling herself up off the ground, “I will, uh, go home...sorry for, you know.”

Angela looks down at the near-helpless Daisha. “I do not see you getting out of there on your own.” Looking round Daisha, she adds, “And you really should have taken our clothes first, that is part of the problem.” Daisha is shocked to hear that Angela knows about these. “You've heard of these type of cans, or uh, jars?” Angela chuckles softly, like someone who knows how to but does not really find it amusing. “Oh yes, I do. I have no interest in them, but I have been known to help a few people with theirs, and it looks like that is a good thing.” She says the last part, crossing her arms and looking straight at Daisha.

She tries to keep eye contact with her, but she looks away, feeling very self-conscious at the moment. “So, Miss Libb,” she begins, “I hate to ask, but could you help me?” Daisha had never been more embarrassed than she was right now. To ask her boss, whom she hated more than any other person, for help, was not only humiliating beyond belief, but also puts her where Angela can do whatever she wants to me. This thought made Daisha gulp softly.

“Well,” Angela says standing up, “The best thing to do it put you all the way in and have the jar eject you.” Daisha open her mouth, but Angela silences her, “Getting a foot or hand out is one thing, but removing the hips once they are in is nearly impossible. We finish what you started then we dump you out.” Daisha tries to protest again, but this time Anglea puts her finger on Daisha's mouth, shaking her head.

Daisha nods and replies, “I guess I'm ready.” Angela picks up Daisha from under her arm pits and sets her on the desk. Daisha is surprised that she can be picked up that easily. Angela notes her facial expression and says, “The jar compresses your body by putting your mass in another dimension or something like that. Even the part of your body not in the jar yet is lighter, in anticipation of the rest of it going in. That is probably why your chair rolled out from under you.” Daisha nods and smiles, still in shock that she is even having this conversation with her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend and current boss.

“Ok,” Angela begins, “Let's tuck your hands in next, as this will help your shoulders go in easier.” Daisha complies as Angela helps slip her hands into the sides of the jar. Daisha can feel her fingers becoming paper thin, compressed into parts of the jar she had not fully filled yet. As her elbow enters, she loses all feeling in her arm, as it now appears to be folded on top of her stomach now. In fact, she thinks, my other elbow might be next to my ankle now. Angela step back to see if everything is in far enough to continue.

“Well,” she says, “Looks like your girls are next. Now, this will be slightly uncomfortable and mostly pleasurable, and probably will loose all ability to talk for awhile.” Angela snickers at that, and before Daisha can say anything else, Angela grabs her left breast and pushes into Daisha and then down into the jar. Just as she was told, the compression of her breast was quite painful and completely pleasure-filled at the same time. Daisha's eyes go wide, as does her mouth, as she feels part of her chest shrink into the jar. She tries to stop it, but the pleasure is so much, she literally “freezes” in place.

Angela taps Daisha on the nose, and getting no reaction whispers, “Well, this just got much easier.” With a grin that does not speak of good intentions, Angela continues with the other breast, shoving it in like the previous one. As she goes to push on her head, she can see it slowly moving in on its own. Like the jar is ready for the rest of Daisha that no more force its needed, Daisha slowly sinks into the jar, the look of pleasure and shock still “frozen” on her face. Angela puts her hands on her hips and takes a moment to allow the jar to do its thing.

The next moments are like sheer ecstasy for Daisha. She can feel every part of her body being pressed in on top of itself. Whenever she has fit herself into a tight space, she could always move some part of her body. Her fingers or toes or something always had a free point. Right now, she thinks blissfully floating in the clouds, I can't move anything. No want to move anything. I'm in heaven.

Angela cannot hear any of what is going on in Daisha's mind, so she reaches over for the lid. Putting it on top of the jar, she twists it down tight. The small button in the top (just like a jar of jelly's lid) snaps down into place. Hearing the seal, Angela picks up the jar. She can see the label starting the shimmer and change right before her eyes. “Contents,” she begins to read, “One female.” Anglea stops and giggles, “not for long.”

Daisha has no clue what is happening to her. She does not really care, as she continues to enjoy being “sealed” into a completely immobile state. She couldn't move, even if she wanted to, and at the moment, she doesn't want to move. Ever thought she had about how good this would feel are being realized now, and she hopes it never stops.

Angela takes note of the label, starting to list the basic properties of Daisha. Her height and weight when released. Her skin color, her hair color, her gender, her outfit type...and the list goes on. Angela taps the hair color word on the label. The word flashes and disappears. Angela grins and taps it again, revealing other choices. She taps until she finds the color 'gray.' She giggles as she lets the label accept her choice by waiting a few seconds. She giggles, imagining Daisha with gray hair. What a scream that would be, Anglea thinks, and quite literally.

“But,” Angela says holding the jar close to her face, “I have a more permanent solution to this problem I have.” Turning on her heel, she walks out of Daish's office towards her own. “You see,” she says out loud to the empty office floor, “I think I want my ex-boyfriend back...he makes a lovely footstool, you see. You have given him a life where he can think and have something to say, and well, he doesn't like that.” Turning into her office, which is much more spacious than Daisha's, she adds, “He needs to be controlled and wants to be controlled.”

She sits down at her desk, setting the jar of Daisha down on it. Daisha can feel herself being set somewhere, and the warmth of Angela's hand going away. I'm somewhere else, Daisha reasons, I think I'm on a DESK. Daisha “shakes her head”, woah that was weird, must be the magic.

While Daisha starts to sense her surroundings, Angela opens her desk drawer. She pulls out an envelope and sets it next to the jar. “You see, I have known about your 'tight fetish' for some time. I still follow Jack's Instatweets, so I am fully aware of your kinky little addiction.” Angela chuckles wickedly, “Which gave me the idea of buying these.” She opens the envelope and pulls out a stack of labels, that might fit on cans or jars. “You see,” she begins, talking to the empty room, “You can buy unused labels, almost like the 'oops' paint at some stores. People return what they won't use, either by their fault or the stores. Either way, I have been buying these cheap, waiting for this moment.”

She starts to go through the stack slowly. “All I need now is the right sized one...” Daisha is starting to feel the desk beneath her, and the sounds of a voice and the size of the room. It feels like I'm AN OBJECT in a OFFICE. This magic radar is really getting on my nerves, she thinks to herself. Maybe I want OWNER to let me out. Daisha checks herself, not OWNER but Angela.

She holds up several labels, narrowing down her choices to just 3 that fit the jar. “Well, Daisha, I have 3 possible futures for you.” Holding up one label, “You can be Strawberry Jelly...hmmm, I could put you in the break room with a package of bagels.” While Daisha cannot make out the words, the vibrations feel unsettling. I don't like the sound of that voice, she thinks to herself.

“Or,” Angela continues, “You can become lotion for men...a nice gift for Jack.” At the mention of 'Jack', Daisha feels all warm all over on the inside. The vibration of Angela's voice runs through her. Oh, yes, Daisha shimmers in her confinement, that felt so good too. Maybe OWNER is releasing me, Daisha thinks sadly, but then again I should probably be getting home so I can show CUSTOMER.

Looking over the last label, it turns out it has not been filled out completely, so the transformation would be unpredictable. Angela does not like unpredictable. She puts all the other labels but the two, back into the envelope. Opening her desk drawer, she puts the envelope back inside. Daisha could feel the desk shake with each movement, enjoying her tight space vibration. Tilting her head down, Angela says with grim determination, “Your little goth-like outfits and black on black make-up have to go. You think society is dull and boring yet want to have a say in how it works. I don't think so, goth girl. This is my world, my office, and my man.” The last phrase she uttered, she had leaned down near the desk, the jar right in front of her face.

Daisha can sense something is not right here. The vibrations have taken on a tone that feels wrong. And just like that, she thinks, I need to get out of here. I made a mistake getting in here. Especially since OWNER is...Daisha stops to realize that thought...Angela is the only person that knows where I am. If Daisha still had a normal stomach, it would have done flips.

“Jack, Jack, Jack,” Angela whispers, “Tonight, you come home where you belong.” Angela slips her finger under the label of the jar and rips it. Daisha's uneasiness moves to panic, as she knows what just happened. Letting gravity take over, the label flitters to the ground. Wrapping the slip of paper around the jar, it adheres to itself, forming a new label. The magic jar knows what to do, as the magic is common for this. In the event a label is removed, the person inside could be trapped, unless a new label is added, making the person able to be released (after the new transformation, obviously).

Angela, however, had purchased this 'oops label' from the store, and so Daisha can do nothing to stop what is about to happen. As it is magical, it will perform as intended, even if exploited in the wrong way. Therefore, it follows it's original, transformational intent. Daisha can instantly feel the pressure subsiding in her. Oh, she thinks, looks like OWNER is releasing her after all. I think I'm ready to get out, but I don't want to get out, yet I should be grateful she didn't trap me in here.

The label that was added says: skin moisturizer. Angela watches as the glass jar of mottled colors that made up Daisha starts to reform into one solitary color of creamy white. Weird, Daisha thinks, I can't feel any part of my body anymore. It is like it doesn't exist. She wonders, is this part of being released?

Angela reads the contents: “Need something for your man? Tired of being cut by his abrasive skin? Try Nourishing Creme for him.” As she notes the rest of the label filling out with sizes and ingredients, she takes a quick moment to say as the last word reforms on the label. “Good bye, Daisha.” And with that, Daisha still pondering her loss of feeling loses the rest of her thoughts, as her mind has now become skin moisturizer for men, just like the label says. Her peaceful and blissful moments of compression have been replaced with the bland, blank sensation of color-less cream. She has a quick moment of thought to scream or be frightened, but all she can do is drift into the semi-liquid state of moisturizer.

Reaching for her cell phone, Angela calls Jack. While the phone rings, no doubt with Jack looking at the screen wondering why his ex-girlfriend would be calling him, Angela holds the new jar to her chest and says, “The perfect gift for my perfect man.”