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"The two of you are together?" she asks, leading you into the hall.

You nod, and your boyfriend reaches out to take your hand. "Yes," the horse replies. "We actually met, well, because of you."

The tigress stops to look at you. Her gaze travels from head to toe, but there's something very predatory in that look, just for a second. "Oh? Do tell."

You twine your fingers with his. "It was back at the exhibition you did, back in, um, a couple of months ago. I was there looking at the, the, um-"

"The packages?" She interrupts with a raised eyebrow.

You can feel you cheeks heating. Your equine boyfriend takes over the story. "We were both putting our names down on the list, of volunteers - you above me, wasn't it?"

You nod.

"And we started talking about the display, and what we liked about it, and... well..."

"And then he told me he had a vac bed of his own, and said that if I wanted to, um, to use it, he'd show me how..." You trail off.

"And things went from you being naked and sealed in rubber all the way to dating?" She laughs. "Come on."

She leads the two of you up a flight of stairs, through a door into a back room. You stop with a gasp as she flips the light on, revealing a room made narrow by what is hanging from racks, sealed in plastic:

People.

Not just people, but gorgeous, attractive, sexy furries, each posed to show off their best assets. The plastic is clear shaped perfectly around their bodies as they hang from their poles, ready to be shipped out. There are five racks in the room, each holding three of the men, women, and other (except for the last one - which only holds one) close enough that their bodies were just a breath apart. They didn't respond to the lights, their only movements being the rising and falling of chests in the slow, almost unconscious way of those trapped in vacuumed bliss.

"Come on."

You start, and glance at your boyfriend. His cheeks are red too. He averts his eyes from the penises and breasts on display and follows the sorceress into her workshop.

His hand must have slipped from yours while you were staring.

"You understand that this isn't going to be exactly the same as your experiences in a vac bed?"

You nod and mutter a 'mm'. "Yes," your boyfriend says.

"I'm going to modify your bodies for long term storage - a week. You won't have to eat, drink, or use the toilet over the period, your muscles will be reduced and modified so that not moving will not be uncomfortable. Also, there will be numerous cosmetic modifications to your bodies, and while you are on display you may be posed and viewed in a sexually explicit manner. Do you understand and accept all this?"

You nod, your throat dry. Your boyfriend squeaks out a "Yes!"

The tigress laughs. "It's all legal stuff. I have a spell in place that will go off if you don't consent properly - I have to, so I never get in trouble for using people as decorations."

You clear your throat. "Yes, I understand and consent to this," you say. Your boyfriend copies you, and she beckons you to follow her into her workshop.

It's a bigger room at the back of the building, with lockers at one side of the room and on the other side a table with a square frame raised above it. It has a sheet of plastic stretched over it - clearly, this is where she will package you.

"I don't have any orders for a couple. I can either do you both separately, and send you to two different locations for exhibition, or you can wait until I do and I place you with each other."

You glance at your horse. He's looking at you too. He wants you to make the decision.

"Well? It's your choice."

You nod. "We- we can be packaged separately. I-I wasn't- expecting you to do couples... so..."

"Okay," she nods. "I'll keep you in mind for the next time I do get a request for two posed together. But for now..."

She flicks a finger at the two of you, muttering under her breath. She finishes off her little rhyme pointing at the equine. "You first. Get naked."

He flusters. His hands tug ineffectually at his shirt, clearly nervous about getting undressed in front of a woman whose work he had fantasised about for so long. She snorted, and waved towards the lockers. "Put your things in there. I'll make sure that no-one messes with them."

You put your hand on his shoulder, and he flinches. You nod when he turns to look at you, and then help him strip. You fold his clothes while he stand in front of the tiger sorceress as she appraises him. "Hmm."

She leans to address you, rather than him. "Not much to look at, is he? I hope he's either good with his tongue or rich, for your sake."

He shrinks under that criticism. It's true, he is not a toned hunk, had has a small gut. She reaches out and grabs his penis. It's not hard, just poking out of his sheath. "Maybe I'll 'forget' to set this back the way it was," she says, as he begins to stiffen in her hand. "You know, for your to play with later."

You don't know what to say. Sure, you'd like a bigger dick on him, but you think you should stand up for him. "It-It's fine the way it is..." You trail off as she moves her hand, dragging it up - further than his five inches would allow. A lot further. It's over a foot now, thickening and pulsing.

"You don't sound so sure," she says, grinning.

Your cheeks are burning. The sight of your lover being enhanced is more than a little arousing.

"But while I give in some places, I will take in others..."

She grasps the horse by the upper arms. He lets out a squeak as magic begins to pour out of her, rippling through his body. His flesh quivers like jelly, each wave leaving him smaller and weaker, his mass decreasing and withering away. He moans, eyes closed, the timber of his voice rising as his chest shrinks.

The tigress has her teeth gritted, eyes blazing. He can't keep eye contact with her gaze, his eyes rolling back in his head as his dabbled skin ripples and muscles fade away.

She breaks contact and stumbles back. The equine collapses at her feet as she steps back to lean on the table. You step forward to help him up, but the tigress holds up a hand to stop you as she breathes heavily. "No. Let him try to get up by himself."

He is struggling on the ground, trying to get his feet under him. You get a good look at him now that he's changed. Most of him is gone - it looks like he must have shrunk by a foot, his chest is tiny, and his arms and legs are so slim! He is moving so slowly, too, like it's painful. He is starting to make little gasping noises, so high pitched and delicate.

"He doesn't have much muscle mass any more. Not like he'll need it over the next week. Burns less energy that way. Most of what you're seeing is fat, so he doesn't have to eat, and I've made his body recycle water really efficiently."

Your boyfriend struggles to stand. He manages to get his to hands and knees, but he is trembling with the effort, soft little sounds panting from his throat. It's obvious he won't get any further.

"Ha." She waves her hand dismissively. "Watching him crawl is fun, but I don't have all day. Get him up."

You reach for him, under his arms, and lift him up. He's so light, it's no strain to you. He rests his hand on yours, and you think he's squeezing as hard as he can - that's what the light grip is. His eyes are full of fear and arousal. His cock is the only hard thing about him.

"Over here. Lean him over the table."

You guide him over to the indicated space, letting him drop to be face down on the table, legs dangling over the edge. You don't know if he is leaning, or if he simply can't keep himself up. The tigress pushes you aside and pins him in place with a single finger. He doesn't have the strength to fight that.

"Hmmm," she says, casting a critical eye over him. "There's something I've forgotten... Oh! Yes!"

She bats aside his tail and kicks his legs apart. His balls dangle down, swinging into view, and she squeezes them in her fingers, provoking a long moan from him. She rolls them round and round for a few seconds, before you notice that her fingers are being pushed apart, further and further. His testicles reach the point where just one fills her hand, and keep growing, bigger and bigger until they are the size of his head.

"That should just about do," she says, and pats him on the back. He twitches. "Do you want to help package him up?"

You step forward, and realise you've been holding your breath for too long. "Help me get him in the frame. On his back, head at the back."

Together, you lift your equine boyfriend up and turn him over. The frame on the bench is lifted high so that you can manoeuvre him easily and you lay him on his back on one of the sheets of plastic. His dick slaps against his chest and sprays a little pre over his chin. "Tch," she says. "I'll get a tissue for that." She passes you a gag with a strap to tie it around his jaw. "Put this in, will you? Pipe goes down his throat."

You look apprehensive. She rolls her eyes, and turns it over in your hands to show a pipe that just out. It doesn't appear too lead anywhere. "That's got an oxygen production spell on it, like those magic scuba diving kits they sell at beaches. But longer lasting. It's how he'll breathe. You need to push it into his throat. All the way."

She bustles off, leaving you with you boyfriend. He doesn't move as you put you fingers into his mouth and pull it open. His eyes are loose, unfocused. He's lost in his own world, the sensations all rolling into one as you slip the gag past his teeth. There's a quiet fleshly noise as something makes contact in the back of his mouth and you flinch back. You bite your lip. "It's okay. Just try to... breathe this down, okay?"

You don't know of he understood you, so you go back to pushing the gag down his throat. This time you don't stop. Something gives, and there's the thrill of fear as you hope you have not just hurt him. It sounds liquid and organic, like it does when he slowly enters you. You push until you can push no further.

He is staring at you.

You shiver. "Are you okay? Is it hurting? I can take-"

"Push in further." She's right behind you, purring inches from your ear. "It needs to be further in. Spread his mouth. It needs to clip around the back of his head."

You gulp, and push down harder. It moves further into him. His eyes roll back, away from you. "You're not hurting him, you know," she whispers in your ear. "I've adjusted his skin, all of his body, to be as sensitive as a cock. Or a pussy."

She puts her hands on yours, putting more pressure into his maw. "He's feeling more pleasure than he's ever known. Push HARDER."

The gag is so far in his mouth now. The skin around his mouth is bunched up and creased. It's far enough for her to quickly slip the gag's strap around the back of his head, and when you take your fingers away it stays in place.

"You did good," she says. "He'll be able to breathe now. He must be loving this." She winks at you. "You'll see."

You look down. You fingers are trembling slightly. She laughs, gently. "He's fine! Look, here:" She covers his nostrils. His arms make a few twitching motions, but he can't lift them to protect himself, but it doesn't matter - his chest is still rising and falling Eurythmics. A tight knot of tension in you gut melts.

She has a blindfold. It slips over his unseeing eyes. "Here. I need an extra pair of hands, and I don't want to have to grow them right now."

She lifts his leg high - bending him in half. His ankle fits into his hands, held above his head. "Hold him."

You can hold his leg in place easily. If someone tried to do this, really, their body itself should rebel and push against your hand, but his is designed not to, to naturally fall into this unnatural position. The tigress folds his other leg up to the same position, and hefts his balls into place covering his rear entirely. She holds his foot in place, and then guides you to hold him in place. She smiles at you.

In her hand is a tissue. She dabs at your boyfriend's chin, cleaning up the drop of pre, before holding it over the tip of his cock. With her other hand, she places a finger at the base of his dick, on the swelling of his urethra. "His so overwhelmed right now," she whispers. "Every nerve in his body is screaming pleasure on the edge of orgasm straight into his brain. He can't deal with any input right now - look."

She blows lightly on his inner thigh, then over his muzzle, and then runs her finger all the way up the bulge of his cock, spilling a puddle of clear pre into the tissue. His reaction is the same to all three stimuli - his muscle twitch and try to push towards it, but he can't get out of your grip, fixed in place as you hold him open to the molestations of the sorceress.

You can't remember the last time you made him this insensible with pleasure.

"We're done," she says, and indicates you to pull back, out of the frame. "Hold this."

She hands you the tissue, the sticky pre leaking through onto your hands. You glance about for a bin, but you don't want to miss this.

The horse stays in place, even without being held. Did you even need to do that? The tigress bites her lip, and reaches up for the frame. With a sudden movement, she slams the frame down. The plastic is barely visible before she does, but it stretches over him, tenting out of flatness. She places both hands on the plastic - not on him, and power flows out of them, drawing the air out from between the sheets. It tightens around the horse, gasping at his flesh in pinched creases.

"Mmm," she groans. It's almost a whimper. "Just a little bit more... Oh, what I'd like to do to you..."

There's nothing between the two layers now but horse flesh. The vacuum tugs his skin out where they meet, the light bending to trick the eye into seeing his body fading into the plastic, as if he is not trapped but has been distorted and changed so that his from is spread over the whole frame.

"Perfect," she says. Her eyes glimmer in the light reflecting from his immobilised form. "Whew. That took it out of me. Do you mind carrying him to be racked up?"

You look down at your hands. The pre has leaked through the tissue, filling them with slime. She follows your gaze, and indicates a corner. "Bin's over there."

You drop the tissue in the bin with a splat. Your hands are still covered. Rather than give you another, she mines licking at her hands. You feel a pulse deep in your groin, and, cheeks burning, you lap the sticky, salty mess off your palm. It's the last last of him you'll have for a week, after all.

You reach for your boyfriend. The skin is - the plastic is stiffer than you'd expect. It only gives a little under your touch, but still you feel him quiver at the sensation. You slip one hand under his form, the other clutching at his bottom, supporting him. He's surprisingly light - his weight doesn't strain you at all, although the plastic threatens to overbalance and you rest his back against your chest to stabilise him.

The tigress beckons you to the room filled with racks. She doesn't look tired at all.

You place your lover on the racks, ready to be collected and taken to an exhibition somewhere. You don't think you'd recognise him if you saw him on display, there's something about him that looks... different.

You run your fingers over him, catching on the ridges in his plastic. You trail up, starting at his enormous swollen balls, over the length of his cock, and up caressing his cheek. You know he cannot tell your touch from the constant pressure of the plastic on him.

There's still room on the rack for one more. You think about being changed, hung up here, insensible and waiting until someone takes you to be displayed.

The sorceress has gone. You hear footsteps descending stairs, and hurry to catch up with her.

She is in her kitchen, filling a kettle. "So," she says. "That was fun. Would you like something to drink before your trip?"

Trip? "T-trip? Where am I going?"

"Home."

She has a diffuser in her hands. It's a novelty one, shaped like a cock and balls, the balls made of wire mesh and the shaft of solid metal. She flips open the head, and packs in a few pinches of loose tea from a jar.

"I- I don't understand?" Your voice quavers.

"You're going to go home."

You shiver a little, a ball of fear building in you. "Home? But, the display, and the, the package..."

You trail off. There's a cruel glint in her eye as she dangles the infuser into a mug. The kettle bubbles more deeply.

"I'm not going to package you. Just your boyfriend."

It's a cold pulse in your stomach. "What? But, but you said - you said you needed two-"

"I lied."

The kettle clicks off, and she pours boiling water into the mug.

You are stunned. Thoughts, demands, reasons course through your mind, but all you can do is splutter helplessly.

She raises the hot mug to her nose and swirls it. "You want to know why. Why? Because up there, all those people, your boyfriend? That's play. That's pretend. That's safe, and legal and regulated. And me? I'm a bitch. I'm nasty. I like to have power over people. Up there, that's all agreed upon, the 'victim'" - she rolls her eyes and makes air quotes - "they know what they're getting. I have no real power over them. I like wrapping them up, but I can't control them."

She takes a sip of her tea. "But I can control you."

You don't recognise the smell of the tea. It's acrid and sour. "Control...?" Your voice quavers, and you feel you pulse heavy in your temple.

"Yes. We're going to play a little game, you and me. You're going to go home. And in five days, you'll come back and collect your boyfriend. I think he'll be quite pleased to see you, as he can't orgasm until them." Another sip.

You don't understand. The smell of the tea is stinging your nose.

"And when we take him out of his plastic prison, you're going to pretend that you've spent the week packaged up, hanging somewhere, feeling the same as he feels the whole time. You'll keep lying to him, pretending that you've both been through this thing that your relationship is built on when it's only him."

A horrible weight settles on you. "But- why would I lie?"

"Because if you do, I'll invite the both of you back, and package you up, together, as a speciality. Any forms you like, any position, not just what someone has commissioned me for. You'll get to finally feel your fantasy."

She puts the mug down on the counter behind her and leans back on it. "And if you don't, I'll never invite you back. And I'll let the other magicians who do this kind of thing know that the two of you aren't quite suitable for transformations. I won't say more than that. Some will think you made unreasonable demands. Some will think you must have some contrary magic in your souls. They won't ask more, and they'll pass you over if you volunteer to be used in their magics. We do get a lot of willing victims, after all."

Your hands are trembling.

"Lie, or have your dreams taken away. And your boyfriends."

Fear, anger and desperation battle in you. You feel... blocked. Everything you wanted was in your reach, and now it's been ripped away, replaced with lies. She grins, an evil glint of tooth.

"Oh, one more thing." She tosses something to you. You move to catch, but there's nothing to be seen, until you feel the tingle of magic over you. "No masturbating until your boyfriend is back. You'll both be desperately horny."

She waves a hand dismissively. "Go. I'll be sure to check up on you later."

You're defeated. You can't do anything. Not now. And you have to make the decision all on your own. "Can-can I at least see him again?"

She smile with saccharine sweetness.

"No."