Tag, You’re It

“Happy anniversary, Bob!”  Rachel cried as her boyfriend came through the door.  He set his briefcase down then gave her a warm hug.

“Has it really been a whole year since you moved in?” asked Bob, then he grinned.  “Happy anniversary.”  He patted his jacket pocket. “I have something special for you.”

“Me too!  Samantha told me about this cool little stall at the mall, where they sell the most amazing thing.”

“Magic gift tags?” asked Bob.

From the living room, Samantha giggled.  “Oh goodie, it worked!  Come on, come on, pull the tags.”

“Why is she still here?” asked Bob.  “Can’t she crash on someone else’s couch tonight?”

“Bob, she’s my best friend.  And...  well, depending on what you turned me into, I figured you might want someone to model it.  Or use it on.  Plus it was her idea, and she really wanted to see what I became.”

Rachel held out a glittering tag.  On it was written, “To: Bob  From: Rachel  Duration: two days.”

Bob laughed, and held out his own.  It had the same duration written on it.

“You two really are in sync.  This should be good,” crowed Samantha.

“How did you find out about these, anyway?” asked Bob, curiously.

“Tina told me about them.  She used one to try to get back with her ex-boyfriend, hoping he’d turn her into his perfect woman.  Boy did she get a shock when she found out Josh had become Josephine.  She tried to back out, but it was too late.”  Samantha giggled.  “She spent a month as a vibrator.  She told me she could hear everything, and could feel every touch like...”  The look she was getting from Rachel made her torrent of words stumble.  “Anyway.  She said she enjoyed herself so much she was seriously thinking about going back.  I haven’t heard from her in a while, come to think of it, so maybe she did.”

“Wait, wait... she got turned into a... thing?” fretted Bob.  “What have you gotten me into?  I thought this would just make me Rachel’s ideal lover.”

Samantha winked at Rachel.  “And what’s more ideal than the perfect vibrator?”

“I don’t know about this...”

“Come on, Bob, honey.  It’s only for two days.  However it plays out, you’ll be normal by Sunday night.”

“Okay.”  Bob reached for Rachel’s tag as she reached for his.  As they tugged at them, the glitter around the tags flared, and sunk into their bodies.  Both started shrinking.

Samantha giggled.  “Oh!  You did!  You did do it...”

Rachel stared at Bob.  His whole body was contracting inward, limbs sucking into his dwindling torso.  She could feel the same thing happening to her own body.  “Mmmm,” she said before her mouth disappeared, “this’ll be fun.”

Samantha watched in wonder as Rachel and Bob's limbs melted away, then their torsos.  She dug around in their clothes once the changes stopped, and pulled out two small, rubbery objects.  "Oooh, you two make a perfect pair even now."

With a grin she tucked the vibrator into the pocket pussy, set them on the side table, and turned both switches on.  She watched the two objects wiggle at each other for a while, then went back to the kitchen.  “Guess I better put all this food away for Sunday.  Whee, I can watch my favourite shows now, with nobody to say no.  Cool.”

Samantha even slept in their bed, revelling in the luxury of a bed to herself for the first time since she'd lost her job and her apartment.

When Sunday night rolled around, Samantha made sure to move the still-vibrating toys to their freshly-made bed.  The noises that emerged from the bedroom once they changed back made her grin.  From the sounds of it, they weren't going to be too mad about her planting the idea of sex toy transformations in their heads.

Samantha reheated their anniversary dinner, and waited for the smells to draw her friend and her friend's lover out of the bedroom.  They emerged wearing matching bathrobes and disheveled hair, and fell upon the food like starving beasts.  Samantha waited until they were done to ask, “So?  How was it?”

Rachel grinned.  “The sex afterward was better... but not by much.  And being able to go at it for two days straight...”

Bob blushed, and nodded.  “That really was something else.”

Samantha smiled. “I'm glad to hear that.  Because...  Well, I wanted to give you something for putting up with me for so long.”  She pulled another glittering tag out of her pocket, this one blank.  As the other two stared at her she filled out Rachel's name and her own.  She hesitated for a long time after that.

Impatiently, Rachel grabbed the tag.  “You're going to be so sexy on me!”

“But I didn't fi...” was all Samatha got out before her head folded away into her collar, forming a  neckline of shimmering green fabric.  A wave of green flowed down over her body, converting it swiftly into more fabric.  Her arms collapsed into shimmering green sleeves, then sucked back into the shoulders, followed by her legs retreating to her hips.

Rachel held up her new, sexy lingerie.  "Oooh, I can't wait to put this on."

“But... she didn't fill out the tag!” protested Bob.  “She left the duration blank.  Do you know what that means?”

“That I get to decide how long she stays like this?”

“What if you never fill it out?”

Rachel shot him her most devilish grin, and hugged the shiny green outfit to herself.  “Then I get to keep my new favourite teddy.”

“Rachel!”

“Aw, c’mon.  You don’t even want her around.  I bet you’ll be happier with her like this.”

“She’s a person, you can’t just...”  Bob trailed off as Rachel dropped her robe and started to shimmy into the new lingerie.  It pooled in her hands almost like mercury, and when it was in place it hugged her like a second skin, making her shining and splendid.

Rachel grinned at Bob’s gape-jawed look.  “Still want to change her back?”

Bob’s reply was unintelligible.  Rachel crooked her finger, beckoning Bob toward her as she backed up.  He followed her right back into the bedroom, and didn’t speak of Samantha again.

* * *

Samantha had gone from surprised to terrified as she heard Rachel talk about keeping her.  She had been debating just how long she wanted to be Rachel’s, she hadn’t meant to leave it blank.  Why had she let go of the tag?  Why?  Now she was stuck, and the feeling of hugging Rachel’s curves, curves she’d wanted to do so much more to, even that wasn’t enough to distract her from her terror and rage.

How could Rachel do this to her?  How could she even consider such a thing?  Why would...  Samantha’s mind turned to a series of arguments over stolen boyfriends.  She hadn’t meant to, she couldn’t help if she was the prettier one, or had bigger breasts.  Samantha giggled in the silence of her mind.  Rachel had the bigger breasts now.  Or maybe they were the same size, considering how she was hugging Rachel’s body.  Whatever the case, it was obvious Bob was infatuated with how she made Rachel look.

Samantha had a hard time staying angry when Bob began making love to Rachel.  She felt every touch, every stroke.  Rachel even kept her on when Bob...  That was when Samantha learned that she was crotchless.  And that while sex as a teddy wasn’t the same as the real thing, it was a hell of a lot better than she’d been getting while couch-surfing.

All too soon, it was over, and Samantha was crumpled up and cast aside.  Soon all she could hear was snoring.

She wondered just what she had gotten herself into.  She knew Rachel took good care of her lingerie, so she hoped that this wasn’t how things would go most of the time.  As the quiet hours passed, her angry thoughts burned low.  There was no point in railing against her fate.  She was something sexy for Rachel to wear, and that was that.

In the morning, her life – such as it was – improved.  Rachel scooped her off the floor, clucking at her own untidyness.  She even apologized, though not to Samantha by name.

Hand-washing was something else entirely.  The warmth, the bubbliness of the suds, both were nice.  Better yet was the sensation of her entire self being squeezed within Rachel’s hands, kneaded for what seemed like an endless time.  Eventually she was gently rinsed and rolled into a towel to be blotted dry.

Then she felt what would have been a backbreaking bend over a cold metal bar.  She waved back and forth gently a few times, then settled.  It took Samantha a minute to figure out that she was hanging over the shower rod in Rachel’s bathroom.

She could hear Rachel and Bob going about their morning, getting ready for work.  Then... nothing.  Nothing at all.  Silence, quiet, and a strange tugging at her nethers followed by a plucking feeling that left her all a-quiver.

What on earth?  Samantha waited, but it didn’t happen again right away.  All she noticed as she focussed intently on what senses were left to her, was that she was slowly, slowly cooling.  She’d gone from pleasantly warm to cool while Rachel and Bob left.  Now she was feeling distinctly cold, so cold that if she’d still had muscles she would be shivering.  The cold made it impossible to ignore her shape, it defined her like a glowing tracery of ice.

Half an hour later, the plucking feeling happened again.  Feeling something, anything, after half an hour of nothing but cold was a blessing.  And it felt so nice, she couldn’t wait for another.  She barely noticed how the chill slowly faded into the background over the succeeding hours.  The pluckings came further and further apart, and started to drive her mad.  She knew one was coming, she was waiting for it, yearning for anything to break the isolation.  Twice she’d nearly fallen asleep when it happened, startling her into awareness.

When Rachel and Bob came home, Samantha didn’t even notice.  But when hands plucked her off the rod and started putting her on once more, she woke up in a hurry.

“Wow,” breathed Bob.  “It looks amazing on you.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Rachel said.  Samantha could hear the grin.  But more important, she heard the pronoun.  It.  She was a thing to them, an object.  Not a person any more.  She tried to stoke resentment at the concept, but the way Bob was touching her and Rachel made her feel just too damn good.  After a day of near sensory deprivation, it was overwhelming.

This time, before the afterglow of being thoroughly used could fade, Sam felt the warmth and suds of another hand-washing.  She tried to sleep on the shower rod, but the incessant plucking was more frequent this time.  Every few minutes a gentle tugging, then the bounce of her most sensitive part.  When the same sensation happened at her collar, she finally realized what it was.  She was damp enough to drip.

This time, she barely noticed the cold.  The drips, however, she could not ignore.  They slowed down through the night, but did not let her sleep until near morning.  It felt like there was no time at all between the last drip and the feel of Rachel’s hands lifting and carrying her.  She was tucked into warmth and softness, heard the rumble of the drawer closing, and that was that.  What shreds of sanity she clung to dispersed, and her mind tumbled into a dreamless sleep.

Sam knew nothing until those hands sought her out once more, slipping her on for another glorious round of lovemaking.  Hearing herself referred to as an object didn’t even bother her, the anticipation was too great.  Being touched at all, moving at all... those were such blessings that it felt impossible that there could be more.  But there was, oh, there was.

Dripping through the night kept Sam awake once more, but not on the ragged edge.  She’d slept well in the drawer.  It was impossible to hold any thought for long, though.  Every pluck, every drip made it impossible to ignore that she was a thing.  Drip.  Drip.  Drip.  Thing.  Thing.  Thing.  Drip.  Drip.  Drip.  It.  It.  It.

It was happy to be placed in the drawer, and knew it had found a home at last.

For a time, it amused itself by counting how many times it was used.  It lost count after about twelve, and gave the effort up as pointless.  The pleasure of being used, of being gently washed.  The timeless, blissful torment of dripping.  Then the drawer.  Again and again.  Everything all blurred into one existence, and it was content.

Every touch was a benediction.  Feeling the Hands pull it out of its safe nest in the drawer, and that immense Body filling it to repletion.  It never looked ahead, never looked behind, existed in the now of warmth and motion, pushing and rushing, washing and kneading and warm.  Then the cold.  The cold and the drips and the blessed peace of the drawer once more.

This was new.  Hands weren’t putting it on, Hands laid it out on something soft and yielding and not warm.  A flush of warmth where two wet soft things pressed against it, a brief suction.  A lost memory bubbled to the surface. Was that a kiss?

It started to move and shift without Her touching it, the sensations of growing and stretching, of filling out without being filled were terribly confusing, and left it staring up at the ceiling in wonderment.

That pressure again, that suction.  It found herself kissing back, welcoming the other touches, reaching out to touch ... to touch ...  “Rachel?”

“Oh!  Sammy, you’re back!  I was so worried when you just lay there without moving.”

“I...  I had forgotten how.”  She slowly sat up, and stared at her friend.  “Why?”

“I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to leave you for so long.  At first the idea of keeping you forever was just a joke, but the sex was so fucking fantastic while wearing you.  We played at you being a thing for so long that we simply forgot.  Until I realized it was our anniversary again, and thought back to that first night with my favourite teddy.  Then I remembered you.  You’ve been my lingerie for a year, and... and...”  Rachel frowned.  “You aren’t mad?”

“I didn’t expect to be human again.  I was lingerie, thought of myself as ‘it’, as a thing you owned.”  She likcked her lips, gave a weak smile.  “I still do.”

“Oh.  Oh!  Did you mean to leave the duration off?  I was never sure, I thought it might have been a mistake.”

“I was... distracted by the memory of you two as toys, going at it.  I wanted to be yours for a long time, and couldn’t decide just how long.”

“I thought it was something like that.”

Samantha shook her head.  “No.  No excuses.  I had plenty of time.  I just... didn’t want to.”

“You wanted me to keep you?”

“Yes.  It was scary at first, once I’d realized what I’d gotten myself into.  I resented having given up the rest of my life to be a thing.  But after a few nights with you and Bob, I couldn’t even imagine being something else.”

Rachel licked her lips.  “I... really liked wearing you.  God, you were so amazing.  We had so much sex the first month, I was almost tempted to gift myself to Bob just to get a break.”

“You should do it!  We can do it together!” said Samantha, excitedly.

“For how long?  If you don’t fill the tag out, Bob gets to decide.”  Rachel showed Samantha the tag that had changed her.  The sparkle of magic was gone from it, and the duration field showed “over” in Rachel’s handwriting.

“Do you trust him?” asked Samantha.

“Yes,” said Rachel, without hesitation.

“Now we just need to get some more tags.”

Rachel smiled, and pulled open the drawer of her nightstand.  Two blank tags were inside.  “I was going to give myself to you, but Bob wouldn’t go along with it.  Maybe next time.”

* * *

When Bob returned to the apartment that night, he heard giggling from behind the door, followed by, “He’s here! Get ready!”  He fumbled his keys at the lock a little longer than strictly necessary to let Rachel set up whatever it was, and was stunned when he finally flung the door open.  His briefcase fell to the floor from nerveless fingers as the door closed unnoticed behind him.

Both Rachel and Samantha were kneeling in front of him, naked.  Their hands were raised in supplication, and cupped in the palms of their hands each one had a glittering tag that he remembered all too well.  Their grins said everything that needed to be said.

Bob stared at them in wonder for a long time, and neither moved, save for Rachel’s grin growing ever wider.  Finally, he crouched to read the tags, and his wide eyes popped even wider.  Both addressed to him, and neither had their duration set.

“Are you serious?” he asked Rachel softly.  “You’d do this?  Trust me like this?”

Her unwavering smile was her only reply.

“Well.  Well, well well.”  Bob stayed in his crouch, eyes distant as he considered his options.  Finally a big grin spread across his face.  “This should be interesting.”

He reached for Samantha’s tag first, and tugged it free.  To her surprise, and Rachel’s, she stayed human.  Slow changes worked across her face, and her long blonde hair shortened and darkened until it exactly matched Rachel’s style.  Rachel stared in wonder at her almost-twin.  Almost, because Samantha had kept her bigger breasts and sexy curves.

“She’s a sexy version of me?”  Rachel finally broke her silence.  Then stared down at where Bob was tugging her tag away.  “But what am...”  Her eyes went wide as her head slowly sunk into her body.  Her mouth vanished first, so it was her eyes that had to give her last message to her lover, one of surprise and at the end, of love.

Bob breathed a sigh of relief at the reaction, and watched his sweetie’s continuing transformation.  Her skin acquired a high gloss, at the same time turning jet black.  Her limbs retreated, but not all the way.  Her arms became short sleeves, and her legs a ruffled white skirt.

“You may pick up your uniform, Rachel.”

The sexy woman kneeling before him blinked.  “I’m not Rachel.  I’m Rachel.  Oh my God what did you do to me?  That’s not my name!  I’m Rachel!  Rachel!  Augh!”

“Exactly.  You’re Rachel now.  And my maid.  Put your uniform on.”

The new Rachel hopped to as if she’d been hit by a jolt of electricity, swiftly scooping up the black and white latex outfit and shimmying into it.  It fit like a glove, and once it was in place it was clearly a fetish version of a classic French Maid outfit.

“I expect my dinner on the table shortly.  Hop to it!”

Maid Rachel hopped.  Literally.  She couldn’t help but hop like a bunny on her way to the kitchen, and had to continue hopping until Bob told her to walk normally.  Then with a grin, he added that she should walk sexily whenever possible.

Once dinner was on the table, Bob told her to sit across from him and do as she wished.  Maid Rachel ate quickly, then asked,  “What have you done to me?  I can’t even think my old name, and I have to do whatever you say!”

“The tag did more than I expected.  I wanted you to be a maid, and... well, here we are.  I won’t abuse it.  Too much.  But I do expect you to keep the apartment clean, since Rachel is currently between jobs.”

“Yes sir!  Why did I say that?  Oh, this is...  Can you really order me to do anything?”

Bob grinned.  “Shall I test it?”

Maid Rachel licked her lips.  “Yes.  I need to know.”

“I order you to... hm.  I order you to not have a mouth.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Act as if you did not have a mouth.”

Maid Rachel tried to protest this order, but found she was unable to separate her lips.  She put her hands to her face, and found that she still had lips, it was just impossible for her to carry out the action of opening them, or even prying them open with her fingers.  She turned eyes bright with emotion toward Bob, who was grinning at her antics.

“Fine.  You may act as you please.”

Maid Rachel blew him a raspberry.  “That was mean.  Do something else!”

“Forget about being Samantha.”

“About who?”

“Forget what I just said.”

Rachel blinked at Bob in confusion.  “Sorry.  I think I blacked out there for a bit.  How long are you going to keep this maid fantasy going?”

Bob grinned.  “I don’t know.  I’m starting to really like it.  Oh, one more thing in case you get ideas.”  He held up the two tags that had transformed Samantha and Rachel.  “You are ordered to never touch these magic gift tags, unless I specifically tell you otherwise.”

“Yes sir!” Rachel chirped.

Bob put them away in the fireproof box with the rest of his most valuable documents, and locked it.  When he returned, his new maid was busy tidying up the kitchen.  Bob grinned.  This was going to be fun.

* * *

Rachel’s mind spun in tiny little circles.  She was being worn, something that she’d fantasized about ever since she’d transformed Samantha.  She was being worn by what for all intents and purposes was now... herself.  Her former clothes had taken over her life.  And from the sounds of it, Bob was enjoying the new situation so much that he might keep her like this.

The idea turned Rachel on more than she thought possible.  It also terrified her.  She’d been afraid that Samantha would take Bob from her ever since she’d arrived on her doorstep.  And now she had.  There was nothing Rachel could do except take it.  And that turned her on even more.

The twined loop of terror and arousal fed on itself, blinding Rachel to anything and everything.  Until she felt her twin take her off.  She was rinsed and dried with mechanical efficiency, then set neatly on a hanger.  She was tucked into the closet, and the door closed.  It wasn’t enough to prevent her hearing what was going on in her bed, not at all.  She tried to get angry at the sounds of her twin making love to her boyfriend, but every time she did she visualized her newly-sexy body going at it with Bob and got further turned on.

When silence finally fell, Rachel’s ardor, rage, and fear slowly cooled until she too slept.

The days went on.  Rachel would be taken out each morning, worn for the day’s chores, and then carefully cleaned, dried and put away again.  The routine never varied, and every night she heard the sounds of glorious sex coming from the other part of the room.

Rachel never got over her arousal.  Her life had been taken away, and it was everything she could ever have wanted.  She just missed the sex, once in a while.  Her latex body wasn’t sensitive like Samantha had described.  Over time she started to forget how it had felt.  The noises turned her on still, but the urgency of it faded.  Passively living a vicarious life on Rachel’s body made her happy, and the memory of being a real person became slowly less and less real, more and more like a strange dream where it swapped places with its owner.

It was content with its lot in life when suddenly it was torn away from it all.  Rachel was ordered to take it off early, and set it on the couch.  It found this puzzling, and Bob’s voice sounded contrite, not the familiar voice of command.

“Time to pay the piper,” Bob said, as he wrote on the tags.  “You’re free.”

Samantha and Rachel sat on the couch, blinking at Bob, then at each other, and back at Bob again.  He watched them both, waiting for the storm of recrimination.

“Why?” asked Rachel, finally.

“You gave me the idea.  One night, in addition to your fantasies about being worn, you told me that your ultimate fantasy was to trade places with your own clothes, have them take over your life and leave you the one being worn.  I couldn’t really see the appeal, but I could see how the idea affected you.  So I made it happen.”

Rachel shook her head.  “No, not that.”

“Why did I keep you so long?  Ah... well...”  Bob blushed, and looked away.  “Having a sexy maid was a pretty sweet deal.  The place has never been so clean, and the company never so willing.”

“Because I had to do everything you told me to!” protested Samantha.

“I never once ordered you to make love to me.”

Samantha ducked her head.  “No.  You didn’t have to.  And ... I’d have done the other, too, even without the magic.”

“You still haven’t answered,” said Rachel, softly.

“Answered what?”

“Why.  Why change us back at all?”

“Didn’t you want to be human again?”

Rachel curled in on herself, as if she could deny having arms and legs by wrapping herself up in them.  “No.”

“Not even at first?”

“At first I was so damn turned on by what you had done to me.  But you were happier with her than you were with me, weren’t you?”

“I admit, at first it was like a dream come true.  Having a sexy maid that does everything you ask of her is pretty high up on every guy’s fantasy list.  That she looked like you was...”

“Even better?” ventured Rachel.

“No.  But it was why it took so long to realize what was wrong.  Coming home to a clean house every night was great.  But everything you did... sorry, everything Samantha did was because I had ordered her to.”

“Except sex.”

“Except that.  But every other thing wasn’t done out of kindness of heart, or willingness, or love.  It was done because it had to be done, and for no other reason.  I came to hate that.  Sorry, Samantha, but it’s true.  I’d rather live with a little mess and a willing partner.”

Samantha just shrugged.  “So now what?”

Bob pulled a glittering tag out of his pocket.  Both women’s eyes latched onto it hungrily.  “Rachel’s turn.”

“You’re going to change me again?” asked Rachel eagerly.

“Uh...”  Bob hesitated a moment in confusion, then forged ahead and started writing.  Prudently, he started with the duration.  “No.  I’m giving myself to you.  I can’t make up for the time you’ve lost, but...”

“But nothing.  I loved what you did to me.  Every minute of it.   Just thinking about it now, I’m feeling all quivery and gooey inside.”

He offered the tag out to her.  “Then maybe it’s my turn,” he said with a quirked grin.  “Hit me with your best shot.”

Rachel stared at the tag.  “Aww, it’s only written out for sixteen days.”

“I have two weeks’ vacation starting today.  Someone has to pay the bills, after all.  It doesn’t seem just compensation for two months of your life, but...”

“I’ll take it.”  Rachel tugged the tag out of Bob’s hands, then hugged him tight.  “Oh, this is going to be incredible.”

Bob tried to ask her what she meant, but his body was already melting against her, flowing out of his clothes and soaking into her body.

Samantha stared at Rachel as Bob flowed over her naked body like glistening goo.  Her chest expanded, as did her hips.  When it was over, her skin had acquired a high gloss from neck to wrists to ankles, as if she was wearing a translucent bodysuit.  Samantha brushed it with wondering fingers, and it was amazingly smooth, almost frictionless.  She squealed in surprise as it wriggled under her fingertips.  “What did you do?”

“Made him my skin, my boobs.  Oh God, he can still... OOOOH!”  Rachel spasmed and twitched on the couch.  Samantha could see her pussy wriggling as if an invisible tongue was working it over vigorously.

“Well.  I guess that leaves me out of this little party,” she said with a pout.

When Rachel finally wound down she smiled up at Samantha.  “Stay.  Before I changed you b... oooh, stop that Bob.  Let me tell her.  Before I changed you back, we talked.  Set ground rules for the tags, because it was clear we weren’t going to stop.”

“Does that have something to do with you not flying into a jealous rage?”

“Because you fucked him?  Yeah.  The rule was simple.  What is, is.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I was clothing.  Bob could do whatever he wanted.  Hell, you were me, I can hardly object to him fucking me now, can I?”

Samantha smiled weakly.  “Cool.  I’d hate to lose you as a friend over that.  I wasn’t really in my right mind any more.  I thought I was you.”

Rachel shuddered.  “Ooooh.  That just makes it even better.  God, I love you Bob.  Mmmm...”

Samantha waited patiently until Rachel was coherent again.  “OK.  What is, is.  So where do I fit in?”

“Bob says there are more tags in his briefcase.”

“He can still talk?”

Rachel laughed at something.  “Yeah.  He sort of thrums against my chest and I can hear him, faintly.  He said you’d be amazed how much you can save when your clothing budget is zero, so he got a bunch more tags with the money.”

Samantha laughed.  “You two are hooked.”

Rachel shuddered again.  “Fuck yeah.  But... if you want to fit in, write up another tag for sixteen days.”

“Aww, do I have to put a time limit on?”

Rachel giggled again.  “Bob says you should try at least once.  Just to prove you know how.”

Samantha blew a raspberry at Rachel’s midsection, then tickled it to a great degree of squealing.  “Wow, you guys are sensitive.”

“Yeah,” panted Rachel.  “It’s awesome.  Join us!”

Samantha fetched a tag, and filled out out as directed.  Rachel tugged it free.  Samantha’s face fell.

“Oh, your expression.  Expecting a bigger change?”

Samantha nodded, then squealed as she felt something shift between her legs.  She clapped her hands over her pussy, but soon a huge erection poked up between them.  Other than that very obvious change, her body was the same.  “Oh fuck me.”

Rachel licked her lips.  “We intend to.”

* * *

Two weeks go by quickly when you spend most of your waking time having sex.  Rachel and Sam were still going at it when time ran out, and Bob reappeared in between them.  Sam hesitated, but Bob groaned, “Don’t stop,” so she carried on until her own transformation ran out.

The three of them lay spent and sweaty on a bed not quite big enough for all of them.  Bob moaned about needing another two weeks vacation to sleep.

“Just like a guy, going to sleep after sex,” giggled Rachel.

Bob wriggled to try to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but between Rachel and Sam there was no place he could lie that didn’t press against one or the other.

Samantha sighed, and slipped out of the bed.  “Thank you guys for sharing all this with me.  It has been the most incredible time of my life.  I wish I could be part of what you have, always.”

“Sammy!” cried Rachel.  “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“What else can I do?  That bed says it as well as anything.  Two’s company, and three’s...”

“An orgy,” said Rachel.  “Stay.  Please?  Bob, can she stay?”

“I’m not sure a third person can fit in this relationship,” said Bob, emphasizing the word “person”.

Samantha’s eyes went wide, and a minute later she was back in the bedroom with a tag in her hands, offering it out to Rachel.  “Anything.  I’ll take anything you want me to be.”

Rachel grinned hugely.  “Oh, Sammy, this is going to be so fucking awesome.”  She tugged at the tag, and Samantha melted against her body exactly as Bob had two weeks before.  This time, her body’s sheen was even more artificial looking, and inflation valves appeared beside each breast and at the curve of each hip.  If you didn’t look at her head, Rachel looked like a fantastically detailed inflatable doll.

“Oh no,” said Bob.

“It’s OK, sweetie.  I’ll let you rest up.”

“No, not that.”  He held up the tag that had changed Samantha.  Unlike all the others they’d used, this one hadn’t retained a residual shimmer after the change was over.  He pointed at the duration line.

“Forever,” breathed Rachel.  “Oh, Sammy, you wonderful, wonderful woman.”

Bob snorted.  “She’s not a woman.  She’s a... doll suit?”

“She’s part of me.  I can’t take her off.”

“I... wow.  That’s...”

“Awesome?”

“I was going to say, I’ve heard of places that can break spells.  But they’re really, really expensive.”

“Aww, darn.  We can’t afford to change her back.  What a shame,” Rachel said, voice dripping with sarcasm.  Then she was racked by an orgasmic spasm.  When she came down from it, she panted, “I think we’ll be fine.”

Bob tossed the tag aside, and hugged her tight.  “I think we will be, at that.  I’ve got a few tags left.  Maybe next weekend I can a vibrator for you two.”

Rachel licked her lips.  “Do a good enough job, and I’ll find some way to keep you like that.”

Bob’s eyes went very wide.  “I...  I...”

“Kidding.  Mostly.”

Bob sighed with relief.  Relief and something else.  “You two are rubbing off on me.  That suggestion turned me on way more than it should have.”

Rachel pulled Bob against her slick body, and whispered into his ear, “We’re going to have so much fun teasing you.  And who knows, one day...”

Bob chuckled.  “Not likely.  I like being human way too much.”

“Mmm.  This will be fun.”