Leon sighed happily as he entered his home, shaking off his coat before hanging it neatly by the door.  “Friday night at last.”

Jean wasn’t far away, sweeping the floor with a broom that had a suspiciously scaly texture.  “Welcome home, love.  Tough week?”

Leon snuggled up to her, and grinned as Jean flicked a long furry tail around his waist.  “Easy to forget now that I’m home.  Dad’s promised Mom a romantic vacation next week, so he’s trying to get me trained up in everything.”

“They’re going away for Valentine’s Day?  Aww, how sweet,” cooed Jean.  “I suppose that means you’ll be working all day on the fourteenth?”

Leon sighed and nodded.  “Unfortunately.  I’m sure we can do something fun once I get home.”

“You’re home now,” purred Jean, nuzzling against Leon’s neck.  “What would the Master of the House like to make of his pets?”

Leon’s look grew uncertain.  “Can I abdicate?  I’ve got so many new responsibilities at work, I’d rather just...”

“Get collared and be my pet all weekend?  Sweetie, all you have to do is ask.  And put the black collar on.”

Leon smiled openly.  “I love you so much.  Thank you.”

Jean smiled wickedly as she pressed the ring into Leon’s hands, her tail and ears retracting as she did so.  “Shall I take the white collar off?”

Leon’s body dwindled to the feminine and furry Leona.  “The Mistress of the house may do as she pleases.”

“Mmm.  I think I’ll keep it.  This time.  But Valentine’s Eve...”

Leona purred happily.  “Yes.  Can I ask one thing?”

“Maids don’t get to give orders, but their requests may be considered,” said Jean with a grin.

“May I try the pink collar that night?”

“It’s a date.  Now go put your collar on.”

Leona darted to the ornate wooden box sitting beside the couch, and had the collar in her hands in a flash.  She sat daintily on the couch, angled so that when she placed the collar around her neck the blanking of her mind didn’t tumble her to the floor.

Jean smiled at the sight, and brushed a hand gently over the insensate cheek of her transformed husband.  “Be yourself, love.”  As Leona blinked up at her, Jean leaned in for a kiss.  One kiss became many, and before long they were naked on the couch.

Afterward, Leona sat up and smiled at her wife.  “You haven’t ordered me to do anything yet.”

“I don’t have to.  You’ll do everything I want anyway.”

“Then why the collar?”

Jean kissed Leona on her cute little pad of a nose.  “Because you love it.”

Leona giggled.  “I do.  Pretty please make me your maid?”

“Whatever could you mean, Leona dear?  Are you not already my maid?”

“Yes mistress.  Shall I prepare the table for dinner?  Two settings or four?”

Jean turned her head to look at the snake-patterned broom standing to one side.  “Two, I think.  The others are happy as they are.”

*** *** ***

After a lovely dinner, Leona made the kitchen and dining area spotless, finishing up by sweeping with her wife’s peculiar looking and very special broom and pan.  Once they were put away, Jean requested a foot rub, careful to phrase it as a desire and not an order.

“That was heavenly, dear,” said Jean when Leona was done.  “But you don’t look content.  Tell me what is troubling you.”

Leona grinned at the order.  “I want to be possessed.”

“Mmm, and being a maid isn’t enough.  Tell me more.”

“Maid Leona still has free will.  She can speak her mind, and what orders you have given only encourage that.”

“If you want something special from me, you only have to ask.”

“It’s hard to admit,” said Leona, after a long hesitation.  “Please order me to tell you.”

Jean patted Leona’s head.  “Tell me this dark desire of yours.  Tell me what to make you.”

Leona shuddered under Jean’s hand, and her head lowered so she was speaking at her mistress’ feet.  “I want to be less than a pet,” she whispered.  “A possession.  The others take joy at being reduced, and being so helpless terrifies me.  I want the joy without the terror.”

“Oh love.  Of course.”  Jean laid her hand upon the black collar Leona wore, the one that allowed anyone to temporarily rewrite her mind with an order.  “Be not afraid.  Not of immobility, not of being an object, not of losing your job if I forget.  Exist in the now and tell me what you want to be.”

Leona twitched as the orders tore apart the fortress of her fears.  “Thank you mistress.  I would love to be worn by you, clothing in body and mind.”

Jean laid back on the couch, pulling Leona atop her.  “Reduce yourself.  Become silk and satin, embracing my body.”

Leona’s body melted into a puddle of golden silk, flowing around Jean.

“There we go, little one.  Be pretty for me.  Let that fill your mind.  You are pretty and you make me pretty.  Nothing else matters.  You are my prettiest, sexiest piece of lingerie, and it is exactly what you want to be, and all you can conceive of being.  Still your mind, and just be.”

The golden bustier squirmed as Jean spoke, then stilled.  She brushed a hand over it, and not a ripple disturbed it.  “Perfect.  You are perfect.”

Jean continued in this vein for a time, praising her clothing for being so pretty, so supportive.  Then she slipped a transformation-blocking ribbon around its laces to keep it as it was.  She found that her new lingerie had been clever enough to tie the ring to itself with a ribbon, so she did not need to cut it free.

Jean turned the ring in her hands, contemplating her next step.  She prowled to the bedroom, and examined herself in the mirror.  Drop dead sexy, as she’d expected.  Her pretty clothing did good work.  She needed someone to show off for.

A certain ornate dustpan soon had a ring perched upon it and its ribbon removed.  “Come on, Carrie-Lee, I know you’re in there.  Time to be human again.”

The pan grew larger, adding arms and legs as its handle extended into a neck and then a head.  “Bleah.  That wasn’t nearly as much fun as I’d expected.”

Jean giggled.  “Then maybe next time I ask you to help clean up the place, you won’t force me to collar and transform you?”

Carrie-Lee joined in the laughter.  “No promises.  Maybe next time I’ll end up something fun.”  She looked over her lover’s new outfit.  “Mmm, sexy.  Special occasion?”

“I’m in charge this weekend.”  She ran a hand over her golden treasure.  “Satin here has forgotten ever being human, and I want to show it a good time.”

Carrie-Lee snuggled up against her.  “I would be pleased to oblige, Mistress.”

*** *** ***

The next morning, Leon woke.  Memories of being Jean’s lingerie flooded his mind.  Such a simple existence, a part of him yearned to return to it already.  He stretched, and opened his eyes.

Nothing happened.

Leon tried again.  No sight.  His body moved, but not as he expected.  That he could move at all helped slow his rising panc, but it was as inexorable as the tide.  Realization crashed through him as he felt his body move without his willing it, felt it curl around the shapely form of his wife.  He was still her lingerie.  Still being worn.  His sheer body tensed with panic.

“Ooh,” gasped Jean, her voice resonating through Leon.  “What’s up with you, sweetie?”

Leon’s reaction to her confusion was to grip even tighter.

“Hey, stop that, or I’ll take you off.  What’s wrong?”

A distant giggle made the body wearing Leon turn and contort.  “Carrie-Lee, what did you do?”

Leon couldn’t hear the answer, but he knew exactly what had happened.  The black collar had been opened, returning his mind to normal.  Jean came to the same realization, and her voice softened.  “Oh, so you’re awake in there?  Getting the fantasy without the collar to soften the blow?”

An enormous hand brushed down Leon’s body, over the curves he was enclosing.  He shuddered, but his wife’s soothing voice and gentle hands slowly worked their magic.  He lost track of exactly what she was saying, letting her tone of voice and her touches reassure him that he was not lost.

Eventually the stroking stopped, and Leon discovered that he was feeling quite relaxed, as if he’d had a lovely massage.  Jean had acquired a remarkable degree of talent in that regard over the past months, though she usually worked her magic on Leona.

“There, sweetie.  Feeling better?” asked the voice from inside him.

Leon gave her a quick, uncertain squeeze.

“Shh, it’ll be okay.  If you really can’t handle it any longer, give me an SOS squeeze, three short squeezes, three long, three short.  But only if you’re serious.   I really want to keep wearing you, and you were very clear that you deeply wanted this.”

Leon gave her three quick squeezes, then stopped.

“Oh!  Okay.  Look, here’s the deal.  I’m the mistress this weekend.  So you’re going to spend the entire time as my sexy lingerie.  If you give me the rest of that code, I’m not going to change you back.”

Leon squeezed her tightly at that statement, and got petted back to stillness before Jean continued.

“If you safeword, I’m going to pull your ribbon.   You’ll become a mindless piece of clothing.  Unable to think, but also unable to be afraid.  Do you want to miss out on...”  She trailed fingertips down the satin enclosing her body, “all this?”

Leon trembled.  No way out?  He was going to be his wife’s clothes for as long as she wanted to keep him that way?  He squeezed three times quickly, then three slow.  He hesitated before the third letter.

“Please sweetie,” murmured Jean.  “Be strong.”

Leon squeezed her tight, holding on as best he could.  He could move.  A little.  He wished there were more swishy bits, more movement in general.  But what little he had... maybe it could be enough.

“Ah, love.  Thank you.”  Jean hugged herself, hugging her lingerie at the same time.  “Offer still stands, but I’ll try to give you reasons not to.  Starting with...”

Leon felt himself pressed between Jean and another warm, pliable body.  Carrie-Lee, who proceeded to give Jean and her lingerie a very vigorous workout, driving the thought of giving up entirely from Leon’s fabric-wrapped mind.

Whenever Jean wasn’t cuddled against Carrie-Lee, she made sure to stay in motion to keep Leon calm.  As the day progressed and Leon seemed content with his place, Jean’s attention faltered from time to time.  Whenever Leon tensed up, she brushed a hand down her body, or gave her breasts a squeeze to mollify him.

At the end of the evening, Carrie-Lee and Jean went to bed. Together.  That was great fun for them and for Leon, but eventually they tired and slept.  Leon couldn’t.  He tried to focus on Jean’s slow breathing as enough movement, but it wasn’t, and the tension returned.  Jean stirred in her sleep, rolled over, and then stilled.  Leon tried to hold in the panic, but eventually resorted to squeezing SOS over and over again until Jean woke.

She was very apologetic, and then Leon felt the ribbon around his laces slip away, taking with it his memories of ever being human at all.  What remained was barely-sentient lingerie, content with its place in life.

*** *** ***

The next morning, Carrie-Lee spotted the missing ribbon.  “Oh!  He didn’t last the night?”

Jean shook her head and sighed.  “No.  I suppose I should have expected that.  He did really well, and I want to reward him.”

Carrie-Lee snuggled up against her.  “I know how to do that.  The very best thing about being a thing is being used for your purpose.”

“And his purpose is?” asked Jean, grinning as Carrie-Lee’s hands roamed over the golden satin enclosing her body.

“Its purpose,” Carrie-Lee emphasized the pronoun, “is to make you sexy.  Getting you fucked certainly counts.  It will love this.”

“You want me to think of Leon as... a thing?” asked Jean, moaning softly as Carrie-Lee cupped her breasts.

“It is a thing.  Nothing more.  It has no will, no purpose but to please its owner.  I’ve been like this often enough to know exactly how it feels.”

“I bow to your superior judgement,” said Jean with mock seriousness, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Ooh, does that mean I’m in charge today?”

Jean laughed.  “Oh, like that’s what you want.  You’re happiest when you’re being toyed with.”

“Or your clothes, but I can’t displace your lovely lingerie.  It hugs your curves so nicely.”

“Then you should have a pretty outfit of your own.  Go fetch Robin, and whichever collar you think would work best for her.”

Carrie-Lee returned carrying just the scaly broom.  At the raised eyebrow from Jean she grinned.  “She doesn’t need a collar, all I need to do is ask.”  She slipped the ring over the broom’s handle then untied the ribbon holding its form in place.  A murmur sent it melting over her, then the ribbon went back on to lock Robin into her new form.  “There we go.  One squeeze to keep the ribbon, two to be my mindless... oooh, lovely.”

“So she’s just a thing, is she?” asked Jean lightly once the ring and ribbon had been removed.

“My favourite thing in the world,” answered Carrie-Lee confidently, stroking her scaly corset.  “And it knows it.”

“So what does that make me?”

Carrie-Lee turned a smouldering look on her.  “My favourite person in the world, and my only lover.  For now.”

“For now, is it?  Planning to turn me into an object too?” giggled Jean.

Carrie-Lee pounced her into the bed.  “Mmm, yeah.  I’ll sweet-talk Leon into making you a toy for me and Robin to play with.”

“Pah.  There is no Leon, only Satin.”  Jean pulled Carrie-Lee down into a toe-curling kiss, and they forgot all about who their clothing might once have been.

*** *** ***

“Wake up Leon, time to be human again.”

Leon desperately wanted to cling to the warm fuzziness he was feeling, but the voice could not be denied.  His body expanded, becoming human, and after more urging, male.  He looked down at himself and frowned.

“Missing it already?” asked Jean with a smile.

Leon contemplated the question for an uncomfortable silence.  “What did you call me as clothes?”

“Satin.”

Leon’s gaze went distant.  “Satin enjoyed herself.”

“Itself.”

Leon snorted at the correction, but nodded. “Very well.  Satin enjoyed itself very much when it couldn’t think and couldn’t worry.  I can’t reconcile Satin and Leon.  How can one person want such radically conflicting things?”

“Magic,” said Jean with an impish grin.  She tied a ribbon around Leon’s wrist, and tugged the ring off his finger.  Her skin acquired a silvery sheen, with a fabric-like texture.  “We can be anything.”

“Hah.  I should wear you to work as a tie.  After breakfast,” he amended, as Jean started to dwindle.

“As my master wishes,” said Jean, smiling.  “Pancakes?”

“Yes please.  You’ll make me fat, then the ring can make me thin again.”

Jean waggled an eyebrow at him.  “Thin as fabric, mmm?”

Leon let out a gusty sigh.  “I don’t know.  We’ll see.  Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Very much.  I would not object to the occasional weekend in charge.”

Leon smiled wryly.  “That’s a new tune from you.  I just wish I could...  Being stuck was bad, love.  I’m not sure I can do that again.”

Jean’s face crumpled and a couple of tears leaked from her eyes.  “I fucked up again.  Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Carrie-Lee.  You were fine for most of the day.  What went wrong?”

Leon turned away from his wife, and started to pace.  “I was on the verge of panic so many times.  You did a good job calming me down, but once you were asleep...”

Jean snickered, drawing an irate look from Leon.  “Sorry.  Just... the idea that I could have fixed this with a few cups of coffee...”

“For the want of caffeine my husband was lost...  Yeah, I suppose.  Still doesn’t change that the very idea of putting that collar on again gives me the shakes.”

“So I’ve spoiled that for you, too.  Bugger.  Just turn me into a rock or something, okay?  I feel awful.”

Leon winced.  “I think that’s out, too.  Put the ring down.”

Jean bit her lip as she worked the ring off her finger.  “Do I have to?  I love changing.”

“I need a break from the chaos.  Do whatever you like when I’m not here, I guess.”

Jean brightened.  “Okay.  That’s fair.  Now, about that breakfast...  I think Carrie-Lee would make an excellent plate.”

Leon tried to glower at Jean.  “You know how I feel about that kind of thing.”

“Yet she’s the one who opened the collar.”

Leon chuckled weakly.  “Still no.  I’d hate it, and she’d probably enjoy it.”

“Yeah, she would.  It’s not fair.  Sorry, love.”

Leon shrugged.  “I’ll live.”