"Stay back!" Fitz shouted while lifting a broom like a weapon. He glanced behind him for a moment and saw that Kellie equally frightened. Shifting his view revealed themselves trapped in a corner of the school's drama club room.

"Doesn't she make a nice wig? I always loved her hair. So smooth and silky."

Fitz's eyes narrowed as he saw Becky lift her latest victim up. He hadn't known. No one had. The mousey little wallflower was a fashion witch and now turned against her classmates.

Becky held a wig that had been Sarah just moments ago. That's what fashion witches do. Transform people into things they can wear. But the victims weren't dead. They were sentient and alive. Trapped as a simple object. A horrible fate. One he dreaded might befall him.

He had to act now or everything was lost. Lifting the broom up he knew it was his last chance. He had to knock her out or else he ends up like Sarah. Or anyone else of the drama club that Becky just had transformed. With a scream, he charged and-

There was a sudden sense of falling and then darkness. He could not move a limb or anything else. Fitz had lost. He was a simple object now and for the rest of his existence. However long that should be.

The darkness around him moved and a second later something grabbed him. Pulled him upwards. The light came back as he was pulled out of the bundle of clothing that once belonged to him.

Becky held him for a moment and then pulled him apart. Fitz felt like screaming, but no sound escaped as he had no mouth. To his surprise, there was no pain either. Only the confusion as he could now see from both parts.

"You know Kellie," Becky started while presenting Fitz in her hand. "This lipstick has the perfect color for you."

"I am not gonna wear Fitz!" Kellie spat back. While scared she still had a look of defiance on her.

"Was that his name? Nevermind."

Fitz was furious. She didn't even know who he was? She just destroyed his life and Becky didn't even care in the least.

"Don't worry." Becky gave a grin that was supposed to be reassuring but looked creepy to Fitz. "I am gonna wear him. As you."

Before Fitz could unpack the meaning behind Becky's comment he noticed something odd. The hands that held him changed. It was subtle, but not so much for the rest of Becky. Her features shifted. Growing taller by a few inches. Her breasts swelled. Yet the biggest change was her face. It shifted until it was a perfect copy.

"You look like me!" Kellie exclaimed.

"I am you," Becky corrected with a devilish grin. "My name is Kellie Ann Velazquez. The question is: Who are you?"

Before Kellie could answer she collapsed with a poof. In the middle of her pile of cloth was a handbag. Fitz knew it was Kellie.

Becky, now in the stolen body of Kellie, threw Fitz on the ground near Kellie and started to undress. Not for long as she slipped into Kellie's discarded clothing. Once done, she looked into the mirror and grinned. "Perfect."

Becky grabbed Kellie - the handbag - and started to gather the former members of the drama club in her. Then she threw all the discarded clothes away. At least, she remembered Fitz and picked him up again.

"Let's see if I was right."

She picked up his body and cap. Then lifting him up. The cap was thrown into Kellie. At once the darkness diminished his second view. The new Kellie twisted Fitz body and he felt himself grow. Soon he was lifted up and saw her lips get closer and closer. He knew there would be an impact, yet Fitz couldn't even flinch.

He felt pressed against her lips and then slowly dragged along them. His confusion intensified as a third point of view unfolded for him. One that was slightly dented and out of shape. Through it, he saw a lipstick up close. Himself. What was smeared on her lips was still part of him and he could see through it.

The new Kellie finished the first half of her upper lip and repositioned Fitz for the other side. Once again he felt himself get dragged over her lips. Which was a bumpy ride as up close the lips weren't as smooth as one might have guessed. There were creases and folds that might normally be small enough that they'd be hardly noticeable. To Fitz, they were prolific and scraped more of his body.

Soon, the pretender started on her bottom lip. More was scrapped off as he was dragged along her lips and a fourth perspective appeared for Fitz. Once finished, she smacked her lips together a few times. Which gave Fitz so much vertigo as his third and fourth view was pressed together repeatedly.

Eventually, the fashion witch was finished. With her mouth closed, Fitz's view through his third and fourth perspective was once again combined. She stepped over to a mirror and admired herself.

"I was right!" With each word strong vibrations traveled through the part of Fitz that was on her lips. "The perfect color."

With a smile, she headed out of the drama clubs room and spotted a teacher.

"Miss Hogan!"

"Yes, Kellie?"

"Was the practice run canceled? Because no one showed up!"

Fitz wanted to scream. Tell the truth. But the pretender played her game too good. The teacher looked into the drama clubs room and looked confused.

"I think I also saw a strange woman leave just when I around the corner into the hallway."

The teacher's eyes grew wide. "Stay here Kellie. I notify the principal and-"

Just like that, the fake Kellie had won. Having successfully snatched Kellie's identity and had declared everyone else of the drama club as missing. Presumed transformed by an outside fashion witch.

Fitz was livid. If he could just do something. But he was only lipstick. What could he do?

* * * * *

Fitz was worried. It had been two months since Kellie transformed him. And it was just Kellie now. Everyone believed her. Calling her lucky that she barely escaped the same fate of the drama club. The whole time Fitz witnessed all. Each and every lie that came over Kellie's lips. As he was her favorite lipstick. Nearly every day she wore him. And that was what worried him. He was slowly running out.

What would happen to him if he was used up? Would she toss him into the trash? Let him gather dust on her vanity table? That had been the fate for the last three days. There was barely anything left of him and Kellie appeared hesitant to use him up.

The fashion witch arrived at home. Stripping every piece of cloth as she reaches the room she had taken over from the real Kellie. Fitz knew what that meant. Kellie would practice magic by studying her books. She was paranoid about that a victim of hers could spy on her. That was the reason she usually even scrapes of Fitz from her lips. But not today, as she wore a mundane lipstick.

It might have been a day like any other if not for the fact that Kellie came out after an hour and picked Fitz up. Not to apply him to her lips, but to drag him off. She placed him in a magic circle made of chalk in her living room. That came as a surprise. He knew fashion witches could do more than just transform people into clothes. Yet, it was so rare that it was more rumor than fact.

His confusion grew as he saw leather straps near the circle. What were those for? Then it dawned on him. She was going to turn him back. If that happens then he had a short window of opportunity to-

"It worked!"

He heard Kellie's shout, yet at the same time, Fitz had his hands full. With hands nonetheless. How does one use them again? Or limbs in general. After more than two months as an inanimate object, he had forgotten how to use a human body. He was in a tangle and it didn't help that someone was manhandling him. By the time he figured himself out, it was too late. Leather straps bound him. Or were those cuffs? Looked more like it.

Having a human body felt strange. Familiar, yet different. The answer came to him as he looked along his hogtied body. "Why the hell am I a girl?" Then he spotted a mole on his left breast. He knew that mole. "I am you?"

"Stop complaining," Kellie snapped back. "It is hard enough to transform an object into a human. Copying my body is easier. Now shut up. I am contemplating what to turn you into next."

Fitz's eyes grew wide. She was gonna turn him back into an object. Yet bound as he was he couldn't stop her. There was no denying it. He would be trapped once again as an inanimate. As the shock wore off his mind started racing. Maybe Kellie could only transform humans into objects and vise versa. Not objects to objects. Why was beyond him, but he knew not all was lost. If he could talk her into a transformation that warranted a change later then he might have a second chance to escape.

"Can't I be your lipstick again?" Fitz blurred out.

Kellie looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head. "You want to be a lipstick again?"

He really didn't. In fact, he hated it. But it was the only object he knew would run out of usefulness. It was a gamble. One he had to take. Now was the question of how to sell it to her.

"It feels so good to be on your silky lips." Silky? Not by a long shot. "When you talk I vibrate with pleasure." More like tormented with vertigo. "And don't you always say I look beautiful on you?"

"I did-" Kellie slowly agreed. "And you really want this?"

Fitz knew he nearly got her. Just a push more. "Please. I can be any color you want. Just let me be on your lips again."

Kellie sighed and then shrugged her shoulders. A wave of her hand and Fitz fell amidst the leather straps on the ground. Once again an object. Small, round, and smooth. When Kellie picked him up and removed his cap, Fitz knew his wish was granted. At once she coated her lips with him.

Then, as she finished, she mused out loud. "Someone who wants to be an object. Who knew that was possible. I expected more like struggling and begging. Oh, well-"

Fitz would have grumbled if he could. He didn't want to be a lipstick. In fact, he hated it. But he got his second opportunity. In about two months he would run out again. Then he had to strike. Escape at all costs.

* * * * *

Fitz had enough. He was so done with being a lipstick. Having found out that he seemingly wanted to be a lipstick Kellie counted him as renewable. This changed her behavior in a way that she wore him nearly every day. Sometimes even to bed. This used him up at an exhilarated speed. Nearly one and a half months later, Kellie was drawing a circle made of chalk again. Fitz knew it was for him as he was once again nearly used up.

As he was worn nearly constantly Fitz had been witness to all her lies and sins. Worst of all the times when she stalked prey: humans she intended to change into clothing. In most cases, she succeeded. The only good news was that she didn't hunt ferociously or in his hometown. Always traveling to a bigger city for it.

Fitz mentally pulled himself back to the present. It was no time to let his mind roam. As Kellie placed him into the center of the circle, Fitz prepared to fight. He had to untangle himself and then somehow either overwhelm her or escape. Maybe he should-

There was a flash and suddenly Fitz was flesh and blood again. Once again, the sudden change left him disoriented. Trying to push through he tried to move, but instead, his arms twitched. Already, he could feel Kellie's leather cuffs on him. He had to act before she closed them. He tried pushing himself up with his legs again and-

"You kicked me!"

She painfully twisted him around. Squashing his new breasts under him as she pulled on his arms. Then the cuffs clicked close. He had failed. Worse, he had made her mad.

At once, his mind raced to do damage control. He needed another chance. Lipstick or bust. But first, he had to calm her down.

"I am sorry!" he whimpered. "Please. It was an accident."

"I don't think so. You fought me."

"No. I- " Fitz tried to gather his thoughts. He needed a lie. A good one. Those were usually close to the truth. "The limbs. They are so confusing."

"What?"

"I usually don't have any. For over three months now. And when you transform me back then- It is hard to coordinate. I wanted to bring my arms into a position for you to tie me up, but my leg moved. I am sorry."

She eyed him with suspicion and Fitz held his breath. Eventually, she shrugged. "Next time, just be still until I am done."

Fitz couldn't believe how lucky he was. It had worked. But while Kellie continued to bind his body his mind was racing. Overwhelming her might not work. Ever. The disorientation this time was worse than before. It frightened him to admit it, but he slowly was unlearning how to operate a human body. Next time it might even be worse. There had to be another way.

If only Fitz could beat her with her own tricks. Or in this case magic. But how could he get access to her knowledge? She always scrapped him off her lips when she studied her arcane collection. However, Fitz had a sudden idea. Yet, he might need an opportunity to use it.

"It is autumn soon," Kellie offered. "And I thought it might be nice to find a good lipstick color for the season. Get your input on it, because it will be your color too. But now that you kicked me-"

"I am really sorry," Fitz repeated.

"Yeah, yeah," Kellie waved him off.

For a few minutes, they browsed various women's magazines for the latest autumn and make-up trends. Fitz tried his best to be enthusiastic about what possible lipstick color he could be. Meanwhile, his new body distracted him. It wasn't the first time he was in a copy of Kellie's body. But the previous time had been very short. Now, he got a better feel. It wasn't his old body. Not even male. But he at once decided that it would be a thousand times better than being stuck as a lipstick. Or any other object for that matter. And of his new plan worked he might be stuck in Kellie's body. Possibly for the rest of his life.

"I think this color," Kellie said while pointing at the one lipstick she had stopped paging through three times before.

"I'd be happy to be that color for you," Fitz pressed out with forced enthusiasm. Now or never was the time to make his move. Once again he had to lie his ass off. "Kellie, may I ask for a little favor?"

"I am not leaving you as a human," Kellie replied at once. Her voice dropping nearly to a low growl. She was getting pissed off. And fast.

"No, no, no, no," Fitz quickly countered. "That's not it. I want to be your lipstick. Really. I only ask that you take more selfies of yourself when you wear me. That is all."

Kellie's anger vanished and was replaced by confusion. Just as Fitz had planned. "Why?"

"So I can see how beautiful you look with me on your lips."

"Don't you see that every time I look into the mirror?"

"Not really." Here it came. The lie that determined Fitz's own future and of everyone else Kellie had transformed. "I can only see clearly from my body. Uhm. The plastic body of my lipstick self. As for when I am on your lips- It is hard to describe. I can see, but it is fragmented. Like it is broken in a million tiny pieces. And each piece shows me a different direction."

"That sounds horrible," Kellie blurred out. Showing compassion that was surprising to Fitz. He didn't think Kellie would be capable. "But then why do you like being a lipstick so much?"

The question was like a punch in the gut for Fitz. One he hadn't prepared for. It threw him off for a second, but luckily not longer. "Because it is beautiful," Fitz gushed with fake enthusiasm. "It's like- What is the word? Kaleidoscopic! That's it. It's like my own personal light show. Uhm. Ah. Imagine a disco ball. All covered in mirrors. Now imagine the mirrors smaller. A million of them and-"

"I got it! I got it," Kellie stopped him. "Geez. Okay." She gave him a wry grin. "If it makes you shut up then I'll take a few selfies."

Fitz grinned. And for once it wasn't a forced one. Little did Kellie know otherwise. But now came another hard part. Staying in her good graces. Which meant being enthusiastic about turning back into a lipstick.

"Thanks. Can you turn me back now? Please?"

"Alright. Alright," Kellie agreed.

"And don't forget the sel-"

Fitz didn't come further as he once again was a simple lipstick.

* * * * *

Five days later, Fitz's heart would beat a mile a minute. If he had a heart at that moment. Sadly, as a simple lipstick, he hadn't. But what he had was a plan. One that now might come into fruition or not.

The parents of the real Kellie, not the imposter that currently wore Fitz on her lips, were gone for a few hours. Kellie was stripping down and put each sentient piece of garment away. Fitz knew that meant she would study her tomes and grimoires.

Now naked, Kellie walked into her bathroom. Grabbing a tissue and raising it to her lips. Fitz plan was about to fail as he would be scrapped off her lips. Then Kellie stopped. Shrugged and put the tissue away. In his mind, Fitz howled with glee.

Satisfied that no one could spy on her, Kellie pulled out her grimoires. Or what counted as such. Fitz was baffled at what he saw. No leatherbound books. Not even one page yellowed by age. It was all freshly printed paper. It was just some printout from the internet.

Now he understood how easy it had been for an emotionally compromised teen to get her hands on magic. It filled Fitz with anger. The wrath that he couldn't afford. It was time to learn. While Kellie refreshed her knowledge, Fitz learned. And new plans unfolded.

* * * * *

It was late autumn. By now, Fitz had learned a lot. Kellie was still obvious to the fact that he could see from her lips when he was applied. Every time she studied her magical material, he soaked everything in that he could.

Slowly, Kellie warmed up to him. She might even call it a friendship. Fitz was glad for it. It would help him in his plans to break free. On the other hand, Kellie reverted him into a human more and more often. Nearly every weekend. It was a routine by now. Kellie would show him her selfies. Fitz would pretend to gush over them. Then they paged through teen magazines together. Hunting for the next trendy color Fitz would be turned into.

But not everything was peachy. Kellie still couldn't change him into anything else than a clone of herself. At first, Fitz had resented that. Now he grew more and more appreciative of being a girl. As it was a break from being a lipstick. While Kellie was acting like a friend she still was paranoid. Always binding Fitz up as soon as she turned him human. Not that Fitz dared to ask her to forgo it. It would no doubt raise her suspicion again.

Right now, Kellie was out and about in their small hometown. Skipping from shop to shop. Fitz mostly blended it out, but when Kellie suddenly stopped, Fitz knew something was wrong. He could feel her heart beating faster. It was faint, but there were blood vessels in her lips. It told him that she was suddenly scared.

Kellie took a few steps backward. Suddenly twisting around an ran with all her might. In such reckless abandon that she bumped into people along the way. Four blocks further, she had to stop. Breathing hard. Always glancing behind her. A moment later she was running again.

Fitz didn't know what was going on. Was this real or did her paranoia reach a new height? All he knew was that Kellie more or less ran the whole way to her home. She ignored her parents and stormed up the stairs to her room. There she stuffed clothing into a bag. Not all, as she threw on some shirts. By the time she was done packing, she wore six layers and every sentient piece of cloth was on her or in her beg. Her handbag contained all her printed out pages of the arcane.

Not five minutes later she was out of the door. Running further. And then it hit Fitz. Kellie had packed everything, but him. All his plans were for nothing if she left him behind. Now, he started to panic as much as Kellie was. Nearly missing that Kellie had turned around.

Once again, Kellie burst through the front door. Raced to her room. But this time she grabbed Fitz who sent a silent prayer of thanks towards heaven. A toss later and he was inside Kellie. The original Kellie. Still a handbag. Thankfully, he still could see from her lips what was going on.

Kellie made her way to the border of the town. There, she walked to a random tree. Or so it appeared to Fitz. A large stone was pushed aside and beneath it was a sealed plastic bag. If Fitz saw right then there was money in the bag. Lots of it. He guessed about ten grand. How had Kellie gotten her hands on so much cash?

The plastic bag was stuffed into the handbag. Pushing Fitz's main lipstick body deeper into the nirvana that was a woman's handbag. It was irritating to be squashed like that, but Fitz ignored it. Kellie's flight continued. Soon, she was at the only greyhound bus station in town. An hour later they were on the move.

Kellie didn't look back as they left their hometown, but Fitz wondered if he would ever find his way back.

* * * * *

Two weeks later they arrived in a dingy motel on the outskirts of Las Vegas. Behind them a frantic run across the country. Kellie had switched from bus to bus. Now and then opting to tramp to the next city. All to escape someone.

After a short shower, Kellie changed. Just like the last two weeks, she dressed nearly exclusively in sentient clothes. Even if they didn't mesh. Which was strange as Kellie normally gave a lot of thought about her wardrobe. Thankfully, she still wore Fitz every day. As such he had witnessed the whole crazy flight from start to finish. At least he hoped they were now finished. Which worried him was that he was nearly used up again.

It was near evening when Kellie headed out again. Apparently, she knew the way around town. Even without asking anyone or consulting a smartphone. Hers she had left at home before her great escape. This puzzled Fitz even more. How would Kellie know her way around? Maybe she had visited it in her previous incarnation: Becky?

Her goal was apparently a sex shop. As Kellie entered Fitz could see the interior in all its glory. Or lack thereof. He had never been in one. In one way it was right along with his expectations and in the other way it was in stark contrast. It had a little filthy look to it but was way bigger than Fitz would have imagined.

The shop was nearly empty. Only a clerk, a punkish looking woman in her twenties, manned the store. She immediately noticed Kellie and shouted out. "I need to see some ID, girl. No minors allowed. A wave of Kellie's hand and the clerk collapsed in herself. A moment later, Kellie fished a ballgag out of the pile of clothes the clerk left behind.

Kellie steered towards a section clearly catering to the S&M crowd. Ignoring the whips and such, she plundered everything that could be used to tie a person up. Coils of rope and dozens of leather cuffs and straps. Now, Fitz knew where the previous set had come from, but not why Kellie did go all out in acquiring a dozen sets.

Kellie headed out of the sex-shop, but couldn't do so without swiping a dildo too. Despite the dire circumstances it made Fitz laugh with the absurdity of it. Kellie's spoils were unloaded in the motel room and she immediately went out again.

This time she headed for a home depot. Thankfully here there were witnesses and Kellie didn't dare to transform anyone. Instead, she got a battery-operated drill and an assortment of screws. That confused Fitz even more. What was she up to?

Fitz had to wait a few days to find out. Each day Kellie left the motel to walk seemingly randomly through the crowds. But Fitz recognized the behavior. Kellie was looking for a victim. On the fifth day, Kellie suddenly stepped into a smaller casino. Something must have caught her eye. Or someone. Fitz pitied whoever it was.

She walked into a magic show. "The great David Sanders" a poster nearby proclaimed. For a while, Fitz was distracted by the show. It wasn't the best, but it was entertaining. But soon he noticed something curious. Kellie's attention was not on the magician, but on his assistant. She was a beautiful woman in her mid-twenties, who had some color to her skin and long luxurious brown hair.

After the show, Kellie walked around the casino. Finding a secluded corner and waited. After an hour the magician exited the back entrance, but Kellie ignored him. But when the assistant left a half-hour later, Kellie was on the prowl. There were a few times Fitz thought she might make a move to capture her victim, but Kellie kept her distance. Only coming close to her victim as she grabbed a bus to the outskirts of the town. Kellie had to take the same bus to not lose her target.

She followed the assistant right to her apartment. Only to suddenly turn around. Not for the first time, Fitz wondered what Kellie was up to.

Kellie headed straight to her motel room. Immediately drawing a circle on the floor with chalk. That it was on the dirty carpet didn't seem to bother her. Kellie was transforming someone back. Would it be him? He hoped so.

To his disappointment, she grabbed a random sentient object. A green bra she had acquired a month ago. Of course, leather straps and cuffs were put nearby. A moment later a copy of Kallie was sprawled on the floor. Trying in vain to sort out her limbs. Fitz knew her confusion too well.

Kellie didn't hesitate and hogtied her copy within seconds. As her victim started to protest, Kellie shoved a ball-gag into her mouth. "This used to be a person. Don't bite too hard on her."

After making sure her former bra wouldn't wander off, Kellie started to pack again. Just a few sentient clothes and a lot of leather restraints found their way into the handbag. Topped off by the battery-powered drill and a few screws.

It was late evening and Fitz wondered what Kellie was up to now. Soon, he got a queasy feeling as he noticed her backtrack to the apartment of the magicians assistant. Yet, this time Kellie didn't lurk around. Walking straight to the apartment door and knocking on it with insistence.

Fitz could hear some cursing from inside and steps that came closer. How Fitz wished he could warn the woman to not open her door. But she did. As soon as Kellie saw her Fitz felt her change beneath him.

"What the-"

The magicians assistant didn't make it further before she collapsed. Leaving a bathrobe on the floor from which a feathered boa peeked out. Kellie kicked the bundle aside and stepped in. There, in a mirror beside the door, Fitz saw the truth. Kellie wasn't Kellie anymore. She had stolen another body and identity.

Kellie looked around and eventually found her victim's purse and ID. "So, I am Maritza Cameron now. It could be worse. Or better."

Kellie didn't stop there. She hunted through the new apartment for a while. Stopping in the kitchen as it hardwood floors. There, she drew another magical circle. But not before anchoring a chair to the floor with a few well-placed screws.

It all appeared so well practiced that slowly Fitz doubted that it was the teenage girl Becky who stole Kellie's identity. It was more likely that Becky had been another victim of identity and body theft.

Blue panties were thrown into the circle and a moment later a copy of Maritza struggled on the floor. Not for long as Kellie bound her quickly. Then she heaved her victim on the chair and tied her down there. Just like her other victim in the motel.

Only then, Kellie seemed to relax slightly. "Let's see what I've got to work with-' she mused out loud and hunted through the apartment for a mirror. She found a full-sized on in the bedroom and now Fitz got a good look at the new body.

Maritza must have been of mixed heritage. Fitz guessed half was from some Asian country and the other half was probably African-American. It gave her an exotic and beautiful look. It was also a stark contrast to Kellie's body. Which clearly lacked on the skin color department. It wasn't completely Caucasian pale skin as Kellie spend a lot of time sunbathing and later under a tanning bed.

"Hmm. Sorry, lipstick," Kellie mused out loud. "You are clashing with my new look." Then, she scrubbed him off her lips. A moment later Fitz had only the view from his main body. The tube of lipstick that was left in a dark bathroom in the motel.

As minutes passed by, Fitz fears grew. If his theory was right - that Becky was just another victim - then the fashion witch he now knew as Kellie had a habit of self-reinventing by stealing identities. How clean was the cut? Would the new Maritza leave everything in the motel behind? Fitz included? And there was a copy of Kellie's body bound to a chair in the other room. Was she a decoy? Left behind as a distraction?

It all made sense and Fitz grew desperate. He had been so close to escaping. His revised plan had worked so well. Maybe in a month or two, he could have made his move. But now? Most likely he would be thrown away because no-one knew he was sentient. Just another abandoned lipstick in a motel's bathroom.

He suddenly was blinded as the bathroom's lights had been switched on. There stood the copy of Kellie. How did she escape?

"There you are," Kellie purred. "I admit I felt naked without you."

Now it made click for Fitz. It was the real Kellie. Not the original one, but the fashion witch. A moment later, Fitz was pulled apart again as the witch removed his cap. Then, she spread a new coat on her lips. Once again, Fitz had a view from Kellie's perspective.

As Kellie walked into the other room, Fitz noticed that Kellie's copy was gone. Probably transformed back into a piece of cloth. Kellie hurried to gather her belongings. This time she thought to pack Fitz. Then, the fashion witch walked out of the motel without a second glance back. The keycard to the room thrown on the sidewalk without much thought.

Once again, Kellie headed to the place of the magicians assistant, Maritza. This time she had the keys and let herself in. Scooping up the feathered boa, Kellie grinned. "We need to talk. But in a few days. You will tell me everything about my new life."

With those words, Kellie left the feathered boa fall. Dumped her handbag in a corner, and collapsed on the bed.

* * * * *

A new rhythm unfolded. Apparently, the fashion witch liked Kellie's body. So, every time she did go out, a random piece of clothing was changed into a copy of Kellie. Left bound on a second chair beside the copy of Maritza's body. Then, the fashion witch transformed herself into Maritza and the copy of the assistant back into a sentient object.

When the witch came home, the exact thing played out in reverse. This left the witch practically with two identities. Maritza's for work and everything outside.Kellie's for being at home. Fitz guessed the witch has grown fond of being in Kellie's body. Why else would she go through the trouble?

What irked Fitz the most was that both bodies - of Maritza and Kellie - had a different complexion. That meant Fitz color could only be matched to one of the bodies. Which turned out to be Kellie's. This left Fitz for hours on end with nothing left to do than to stare out of his main body. He had been curious about the magician's show and all the backstage activities. But that part eluded his grasp.

Thankfully, the witch only consulted her arcane papers when being in Kellie's body. That still left Fitz free to snoop over her shoulder. Or in his case, her lips. Why she had to study them regularly soon became apparent to Fitz. There were different spells to transform a person into an object. The easiest, but slowest was with the help of a drawn witch circle. Of course, no potential victim would step into one free of choice. The witch's favorite way was to envision a few glyphs in her mind in a specific order. As the glyphs were fairly complex, the witch had to memorize them over and over, so she wouldn't forget a detail or get one wrong.

Of course, Fitz started to memorize them too. That was his plan. Beat the witch with her own tricks. Of course, he could only take her on when he was in human form. He also knew that he would be stuck as said human for a long time. Fitz had long since made peace with the fact that he would end up as a girl. Not that he minded. It was better than being a lipstick. Slowly it also became more natural being a girl than a boy. Not to mention that he always looked forward to being a girl, as it meant to be mobile.

At least in a limited fashion. Kellie still would tie him up, but less strict. Sometimes leaving him as a girl for hours. Like right now, he was with Kellie sprawled on the couch. Though he could barely use his hands. It had become a thing that it was Fitz who had to page through and gauge aloud what color might be best for him.

Just like right now. He pointed as best as he could - as he was still bound - to a pinkish gel lipstick. "This could be nice for a playful look. What do you think?"

As the witch didn't answer Fitz twisted around to look at her. At once, his eyes grew wide. She was asleep. Dozed off without him noticing. Now was the time to strike.

One by one Fitz imagined the glyphs for transforming the witch into an object herself. He finished the last glyph and-

The witch shuddered. As if she was cold for a moment. Fitz held his breath. Was she waking up? After ten seconds he relaxed. She still was asleep. But what had gone wrong?

He nearly cursed out loud when it came to him. According to those texts, the witch has to train their magical affinity past a certain point to be able to cast a spell. As Fitz had never done any training, he was as mundane as he could be.

His eyes darted around and looked for a way out. There was the front door. Not too far away. But bound as he was there was no way for Fitz to reach the doorknob. Not to mention the door's security-chain above. The apartment didn't have a back entrance. That left Fitz with a need to slip his restrains. Which was unlikely in itself.

Then, it dawned on him. If the witch was currently Kellie, then some poor schmuck was currently bound as Maritza in the kitchen. Should he go for it? If he was caught, who knew what the witch would do to him. Fitz might lose all the goodwill he had garnered with her. Then again, if he ever wanted to escape, then he had to take risks.

Carefully, Fitz wiggled himself to get to the edge of the couch. Now he knew how worms felt. Dropping down the edge was hard doing silently. There was a thump as he slit down and for a moment Fitz held his breath. Listening if Kellie stirred awake or not.

As a minute passed without anything happen, Fitz looked towards the kitchen. He knew if he started moving over there then he would put all bets on one horse. Right now, he could argue he fell down the couch by mistake. But if he moved too far away that lie would lose meaning.

His hesitation didn't last long. Fitz started to wiggle his way to the kitchen and to the only other prisoner in this house currently in a human body. After a few feet, he knew he was screwed. Tied up as he was every inch of progress was hard-fought and took a long time. Already an hour had passed and there still was some way to go. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop.

He guessed two hours later, Fitz made it to the entry of the kitchen. The faint sound of creaking and clinking told him that the other captive fought against her restraints too. She stopped as she saw Fitz wiggling closer. Urging him with big eyes to hurry on.

By the time Fitz reached her, he was exhausted and hurt. The leather straps - while wide in themselves - had dug into his skin. Rubbed it raw. He was sure it would leave quite a few bruises. But only if he succeeded. A lipstick couldn't bruise after all.

Now came the hardest part. The other captive in the body of Maritza was strapped down tight. Thankfully her hands were free, but her arms pinned against the chair's armrests. Fitz would have to try righting himself up against the bound captive. High enough that she could reach a few of his buckles. And all that, without being too loud and waking the witch.

He tried and tried again. It was hard to come up and keep the balance. Then trying to present a buckle for her to grab. After a few tries, Fitz was ready to give up. Then a thought came to him. He abandoned his current attempt and slid down to the floor again. Lying flat on his back he tried raising his bound legs. It nearly reached towards her hand. Painfully wiggling closer, Fitz tried again lifting his legs up higher. The muscles of his stomach protested by the strain and he was slowly sliding to the side.

Suddenly, his movement stopped. He felt a hand on his restrains. She had grabbed him, the other captive, by one of his leather straps. A moment later, she had helped position him so she could reach a buckle. And it was the right one too. As she opened it, Fitz felt slack in all the other leather belts that bound his legs tight together. The captive helped him slide the whole mess of leather from his legs.

Fitz didn't lose a moment on hesitation. Rolling away from the chair, he gave himself enough space to stand up. Which proves harder than he had thought. After all, he hadn't stood on legs for months now. Most of the time not even having legs. He was shaky like anew born giraffe, but he managed. Now he could walk over to the other captive and present the buckles that bound his arms and upper body. A few seconds later, they too fell away.

At once, Fitz freed the other captive but whispered to her urgently. "The witch is asleep. We have to be quiet."

The other woman nodded and as soon as Fitz freed her of the ballgag she whispered back. "We have to get out of here."

The thought was tempting, but Fitz knew they had to be smart. "We can't. Not yet."

"Are you crazy?" the scarred woman shot back. "Why the fuck not?"

"She's a witch," Fitz replied. "Who's to say she doesn't have a tracking spell or so. She can't let us escape. We would expose her."

"But what else we can do?"

"I have a plan," Fitz assured her. "But I need to wear as many sentient clothes as we can find."

Together, they tiptoed towards the bedroom. There, Fitz threw on whatever cloth he could find. Even if it meant wearing ten tops over each other. His theory and plan were rather simple. He learned that sentient clothes are enchanted to bestow part of their magical aptitude to their wearer. If he wore enough then maybe it was enough to awaken his access to magic.

Soon they didn't bother making him slip into each garment anymore. Just pushing his arm through one loop of ten bras did the trick. With each garment added Fitz noticed something peculiar. The sentient clothes around him started to glow. He reasoned it was their magical potential and-

"Lipstick! Where the hell are you?"

Fitz twitched as if he had been hit. The witch was awake. Time was running out.

"Hurry!" Fitz urged his fellow escapee on.

"I hope your plan works," she remarked. And added in a whisper. "I should have run."

"There you are!" The witch arrived in the bedroom. "Time to punish you."

There was a sudden pressure on Fitz. Lasting only for a moment. It had worked. Combining his magical aptitude with those the sentient clothes gave him.

"My turn," Fitz pressed out. He envisioned the glyphs in his mind and mentally pushed them onto the witch.

With a yelp, she stumbled. But remained human. It had not been enough. Fitz still needed more clothes. Kellie managed to stand up again, but Fitz saw something on her face he never thought he would see: an utterly scared look of panic. She stumbled out of the doorway. Clearly, Fitz's attempt had weakened her.

"So close. I need more," Fitz urged the woman that sought shelter behind him.

"There isn't anymore. You are wearing them all."

His mind raced. He should go after the witch. But what good would it do if he couldn't transform her and eliminate her threat forever? He needed more.

"The ballgag!" Fitz cried out as an epiphany came to him.

Running for the kitchen he arrived there just as the witch stumbled out of the apartment. Fitz didn't spare a glance. He was busy looking through the leather straps. Triumphantly he held her up. The punk girl that used to man the sex shop, but was now only a ballgag.

As Fitz ran after the witch, he wondered if holding the gag was enough. Just to be sure, he popped the ballgag between his teeth. Instantly cursing how big it was. But he didn't spit it out or bothered to buckle it tightly. Instead, put every ounce of his strength into chasing the witch.

She had quite the headstart. Her weakness after Fitz had failed to transform her already tempering out. She ran. Like a drunk, but she ran.

As she was already halfway down the street, Fitz panicked a little. Maybe if he hit her again with the spell it might not transform her because of the distance, but may cause her another disorientation spell. Breathing hard, Fitz stopped and concentrated. Envisioning each glyph and mentally pushing them to the fleeing witch.

She stumbled. A moment later there was only a pile of garments.

"Mpf mhmpf mphf!"

His cry of triumph utterly garbled by the ballgag between his teeth. Popping her out, Fitz just had to repeat himself. "I did it!"

A soon as his wits returned, Fitz looked around. By now it was late in the night and thankfully the street was empty. He hoped that meant nobody saw him. To minimize his exposure, he ran to the pile of clothing and grabbed it all. Then hurried back to Maritza's apartment.

His fellow escapee waited for him there. For a moment her eyes grew wide in fear. Fitz had after all the same body the witch used to have up until a moment ago. Then she relaxed. Not a lot, but Fitz saw some of her tension slip away.

"Did you get her?"

Fitz unloaded the pile of garments onto the couch but kept one object to himself. Grinning, he turned around and presented a lipstick. "Oh, I got her. Found it kind of poetic to change her into the same thing she tormented me with."

"I thought you liked that," the other woman blurred out. "We all saw you gushing to Kellie about it."

"It was all an act," Fitz assured her. "Guess my time in the drama club really paid off."

"What do we do now?"

"I have an idea," Fitz said while stripping garments off himself. "Can you help me undress? Getting kind of warm under so many layers."

Once Fitz was unencumbered, he darted to the bedroom and pulled out the witch arcane research. Bringing it to the living room he spread them out. Looking for something in particular.

"Got it."

Pulling out a specific piece of paper, Fitz used it to copy the shown magical circle to the wooden floor. Finishing up, he placed a black sports bra in it. Then, he grabbed enough sentient garments until he saw the glow around sentient objects again.

Mentally, he pushed a new set of glyphs into the sports bra. Once done, he nodded. "There we go. Maybe now he or she can talk to us."

"That idiot. I am still a bra. How am I supposed to talk?"

"She talks!" the person in Maritza's body exclaimed.

"I am? Oh my gosh, I am!"

"It's a spell I saw but Kellie always ignored it," Fitz explained. "You aren't really talking in the normal sense. The spell lets you broadcast thoughts to others. A form of telepathy, I think. Let me put it on everyone else and then we all can talk."

It took an hour and a lot of energy, but at last Fitz had given every sentient garment the ability to speak. Now they all were spread out on the furniture. A total of eighty-two former humans. The witch had been busy. Here and there sentient garments had discussions. Others found a way to narrow their broadcasts to only selected few. Engaging others in private talk. Fitz knew there was a lot of confusion, anger, and desperation. He had to step in before it got worse.

"Everyone. Can I please have your attention?" When the murmurs around him settled down, he continued. "My name is Fitz. I was a victim of the fashion witch like you. Some may know me as the lipstick she-"

"You are the suck-up that practically crawled up her ass!" someone shouted. Murmurs piped up again.

Fitz flinched, but then he had expected this. He held up a lipstick. Not any lipstick. "I did. Sweet-talking her allowed me to not only escape her but also to do this: I captured her. We don't have to fear the fashion witch anymore."

"Really?" One voice asked. "Isn't it: the witch is dead, long live the witch?"

Fitz held up his hands and cut through before random discussions could break out again. "I have no intention to replace her. Furthermore, I will do everything I can to transform as many of you back to being humans."

"What do you-"

"Please," Fitz interrupted. "I can't distinguish who is talking. I guess the others can't either. Please state your name and what you are."

"Nancy. Blue lacy bra. What do you mean as many of us? Can't you turn us all back?"

"Sadly, no," Fitz confirmed. As some voiced their protests out loud, he had to shout to continue. "At least not right away. In fact, I don't even know how many I'll be able to transform back in the beginning. Please let me explain."

As silence settled down again, Fitz continued. "I am not a witch. Wearing nearly all of you pushed me past a certain point that allowed me to use magic. In fact, I found out this is the real reason why fashion witches hunt us and wear us. To strengthen themselves. Without all of you, I can't do squat shit. Wearing some of you, and I don't know how many of you, might allow me to transform a few of you back."

"Bethany. The white panties. The one with the pastel pink bow. Who decides which ones of us get turned back and who remains stuck? I don't wanna be panties anymore! Do you know how horrible it is? Especially when she was having her period. I can't stand another second of it."

"We all decide," Fitz assured her. "But there is something you should know. Most of you weren't chosen at random. You not just pissed a fashion witch off and were transformed for that reason. No, you were specifically hunted. Fashion witches aim to transform those that have a high magical affinity. Because their spells allow them to siphon off part of it. That means each of you has a high chance to be hunted again."

"I see two options," Fitz continued. "Two groups if you will. Group one is those I can manage to turn back and they go their way. I suggest hiding. There is also the matter that I can only copy human bodies. Right now we only have two available. The one from Maritza and the one from Kellie. For those of you who had been male, like me, I hate to say it, but we will be stuck as women."

"Damn." The curse came from the left of Fitz. It was the person currently in the body of Maritza. She pointed at herself. "Kyle."

Fitz nodded. He knew Kyle from the drama club. Had witnessed his transformation. "The alternative is harder. As it means remaining longer as sentient clothing. In these documents is outlined how to raise one's magical ability. Even awaken as a witch. I suggest a rotation. We each take turns as a human and try to raise our magical level. Not only will it allow us to transform more of us back to human - eventually all of us - but it will strengthen all of us. So that we can protect each other."

"Judy. Striped grey panties. Will you take turns too?"

"Of course, I will-"

"No, you will not!" This fierce shout cut Fitz off. "Kellie. Uhm. The original Kellie. Argh, damn it. Just call me Ann. It's my middle name. Anyway. Fitz shouldn't take turns. I mean think about it. He not only escaped, but he is also giving us a chance. Even a choice. Right now we all are scared. And rightfully so. But I know Fitz from school. He had always been a decent guy. But I don't know anyone of you. I hate to say it, but one of you could panic when it is your turn and decide to take the previous fashion witch's place. Trapping us all again. I can't risk it. Can you? I vote Fitz remains a human."

Others joined in and soon the vote was near entirely in Fitz favor. Sealing Fitz fate. Now, he would have to get used to being a girl. Even more so to be in Kellie's body. The very girl he had a crush for so long. He joined the drama club just to be near her. But for now, he pushed the thought away.

"There is one of you we need as a permanent person too." Fitz looked around. "Where is the original Maritza?"

"Over here. The violet feathered boa on the couch."

"Okay. Maritza, I hope you join group two and help us out. Currently, you are the only one who knows your job. We need you in your original body to earn money again. To keep this place and help feed those whose turn it is to be human. And for that, you need to permanently be a human."

"Of course," Maritza agreed. "The way I see it we all are in the same boat. I mean I thought for a while that the witch just wanted my identity to hide. But now, I am not so sure. My boss - the stage magician - is an ass. The pay is crap. And not to mention I am on stage each night. Seen by hundreds. As a hiding spot, my identity is less than optimal. Which makes me guess I have been a target for my magic level, right? Meaning I am still a target for other fashion witches. I need you as much as you need me."

Fitz nodded. "Okay. Time to decide who wants to be in group one and who wants to be in group two. There are advantages to both, so chose carefully."

It took nearly five hours to hash it all out. Of the over eighty victims fifty-two chose group one. Only thirty-one were brave enough for group two and decided to stay with Fitz. By the end of their little forum, Fitz was tired and dozed off amidst his fellow escapees.

* * * * *

Fitz jerked awake as he heard keys in the door lock. It was only Maritza who returned from work.

"Napping again?"

Fitz gave her a lopsided grin. "Hey, I earned it. Today was the last one."

Nearly two months later he had finally managed to transform the last one of those that wanted to leave. Just researching how to turn someone back had taken a week. They had called in sick on Maritza's behalf, but she still had nearly lost her job. As soon as Maritza had her body back Fitz started to fulfill his promise. At first, he had only managed to transform one person back each day. And only barely. But soon he got better.

What he regretted was the lack of privacy. Two months as a girl and his curiosity about it didn't ebb away. By now he was used to the feeling of having a female body but never had the chance to really explore it. If he didn't prepare to turn someone back, then he was doing those meditation exercises that promised to raise his magical aptitude.

Even if he wasn't busy, Fitz was never alone. While everyone hated to be clothing, they hated it more to be not worn. No-one wanted to rot in the closet and be bored to death. Which meant Fitz had to cycle through them all. As most garments only fit him as he wore Kellie's body.

Most of the time, Fitz could deal with it. Heck, a secret part of him loved wearing sentient clothes. They felt so good on his skin. It was addictive. But sometimes he wondered. Maybe it was just being a girl in general that felt better.

Most distracting of all were those few mornings that he had woken hot and bothered. His first impulse was always to finish the job. He had always heard women had better orgasms. Was it true? He was eager to find out, yet could never make him continue. Not while others could witness. Not to mention that Jess and Claudia were the girls that had been transformed into his pajamas. Top and bottom respectively.

Maritza broke his musing as she collapsed on the couch beside him. A groan and then a sigh escaped her lips.

"Hard shift playing with fake magic?" Fitz needled her.

"The work not so much. David-" she frowned. "That guy is such an ass, but I just can't find a better job. Not if we have additional mouths to feed."

"Speaking of-" Fitz spoke up as he was reminded. "The first of our group is out. Tamara is in your bedroom and meditating. After dinner, I need you to bring Ann out."

"Dinner! I am starving," Maritza exclaimed. "Sure. After we have eaten."

Early on they had decided that the group would have one copy of Kellie's body out and one of Maritza. Aside from Maritza and Fitz themselves.

"I bet the girls are all excited," Maritza mused out loud.

"Oh, we are," Nancy agreed.

Her sudden outburst gave Fitz a light shock. Sometimes, he forgot that he wore sentient clothes which he gave the ability to speak. In this case, Nancy was the blue bra with lots of lace that he wore. To be accommodating to her Fitz had opened so many buttons of his blouse that it looked downright slutty. Just so that Nancy could look around. Not that the blouse, Camilla, minded. Or anyone around him.

"To be human again will be great," Nancy continued. "But being something else than a bra might be a welcome change too."

Fitz nodded. A side effect of this cycle he proposed was that everyone who had their turn as a human could decide what piece of garment they want to become. Fitz had witnessed quite a few discussions of small groups trying to coordinate who turns into what and which color. After all, Fitz was expected to wear them all and they shouldn't clash color-wise. Not that Fitz minded, but the women around him did.

Fitz got up and trotted after Maritza into the kitchen. By now it was routine that he would help her in the kitchen. While he had two thumbs in regards to cooking, he could dice stuff fine enough.

"By the way," Fitz started as he sat down at the kitchen table. "The girls have a proposition for you."

Maritza looked at him and quirked an eyebrow. "For me?"

"Some would like to be worn by you after their turn as human," Fitz explained. "Which has the added benefit that you would be more protected against other fashion witches. But it also draws more attention to you."

"I thought some of them might," Maritza confessed. "It would allow them to see the outside again."

Fitz nodded. It hadn't been a thought that occurred to him, but it was a valid opinion. If he was honest, he'd like to see the outside again too. Hiding in Maritza's apartment for the last two months slowly took a toll on him too.

"But we have to be careful of what we turn them into. Nothing that you have to undress and put aside. I am not suggesting that you would lose someone, but maybe they could get stolen."

Maritza gave him a grimace. "That is more likely than you might think. Over the past year, panties have been gone missing from my wardrobe in the casino. I bet it is that pervert boss of mine."

"The stage magician?" Fitz asked.

Maritza gave him a resolute nod.

"Then it certainly might be a risk," Fitz concluded.

"They could be part of my stage outfit," Maritza offered. "After all, I was forced to buy my own outfit. No one bats an eye if I take my outfit back home with me. It might offer a little more than just be worn on my way to work or back."

"We certainly can offer it up to the girls," Fitz agreed. "It is up to them."

For a moment his thoughts returned to the strange fact that he was the only guy in the group. And he still counted himself as such. Despite the body he currently had. Every other guy had high-tailed out of here. Not that there were many of them. Besides Fitz only five. Of course, none of them had been happy to be stuck as a girl either. Instead of the vague hope that Fitz would find a way to turn them all back to their original body, they thought it would be wiser to run and hide. Most of the girls ran too. Especially those that had been more demanding and degrading pieces of clothing. None of the former panties chose to stay.

Fitz could understand them all. His plan wasn't without risks. But running and hiding was even riskier in his opinion. Each one had received a copy of the fashion witch's texts. Fitz certainly hoped that they wouldn't abuse it, but there was a chance a few of them would become fashion witches themselves.

"I have an idea about that," Sarah chimed in and broke Fitz out of his concentration. She still was a wig and rested on a styrofoam head in the kitchen.

"About what?" Fitz asked. "Sorry, I didn't listen just now. Lost in thought."

"We were brainstorming how to earn more money," Maritza explained.

Fitz nodded. "So, what was the idea?"

"Well, Maritza said a few days ago that the magician is looking for an additional assistant," Sarah explained. "I say that could be one of us. Not a Maritza clone. I don't think they would believe that she has suddenly a twin sister. But a Kellie clone might do."

"There is the fact that someone is probably hunting for the fashion witch that caught us," Fitz pointed out. "And they are looking for someone looking like Kellie."

"I have thought of that," Sarah insisted. "You can alter a face a lot with make-up. In fact, we have to age whoever is up for the job. Kellie is a little young to be working, but with make-up, we can sell it and alter the features. Plop me on the head and it will be harder to recognize her."

Fitz thought it over. It had some merit, but still, he hesitated. "We can bring it up with the others. But I would suggest we wait. Over the last few months, we send dozens of Kellie clones out. They might be caught and even interrogated. Who knows how many would give us up if they'd be promised to keep their freedom. I'd like to keep us all as much together as we can. Just for the added defense."

"Makes sense," Sarah agreed. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Sure."

"Can you wear me a while?"

Fitz grinned and fulfilled her wish.

* * * * *

Fitz adjusted his bodice for the tens time when Maritza swatted his hand away.

"Stop it," she admonished him. "Ann sits perfectly."

Fitz looked down at Ann. She was a sparkly bodice and a marching twin to Camilla. The bodice that Maritza wore. Both sentient garments barely covered anything. Apparently, Maritza was used to it. Not so Fitz. His breasts were on full display. Granted he often exposed the twins in the apartment just as much to give the bra of the day a view out. But today he wasn't in the apartment.

"I am just nervous," he admitted.

It's been two months since Sarah proposed her plan. Having a second income would more than double the count of people they could have out at the same time. As it came down to who gets to play the second assistant the vote came down to Fitz. That he had been in the drama club was a plus, but the real purpose was the defense. Not only was he one of the strongest magic users of their group, but he could also cast a few spells. The sentiment was that he could defend them even when exposed.

"Why am I even doing this?" Fitz murmured. "I blame Sarah."

"Blame me all you want," Sarah whispered back. "I think it is showtime."

Sarah wasn't the only one he wore. Maritza and he each wore ten of the girls. Which wasn't as easy as they had thought. Especially since every garment below the beltline was a no-go. There were limits to what the girls wanted to be.

Claps could be heard and from the stage, Fitz could hear David - the magician - do his introductory monologue.

"… with my beautiful assistant Maritza …"

Maritza plastered a fake smile on her face and walked out.

"… and for the first time a new addition. Give warm applause for the newest addition to the team, Lindsey!"

This was it. The cover-name they had come up with for Fitz. A last deep breath and Fitz walked out. Hoping his smile was as convincing as Maritza's.

Two hours later, the show wound down. The audience had left and it was up to the assistants to clean up the stage.

"See? It wasn't so bad," Maritza insisted. "You did well."

"I could do with less ogling of my body," Fitz remarked dryly.

"All part of the job," Maritza explained again. "We are here to shift the focus. To distract from when the real magic happens."

"Real fake magic," Fitz corrected. "Honestly I didn't think it would be that much work being a magician's assistant. Is it just me or do we all the work and David gets to smile, talk a little, and get all the praise?"

Maritza sighed. "That's show-biz."

"Lindsey?" David shouted as he came out of his office. "Can you come over for a minute?"

"Hope I didn't mess something up," Fitz murmured and headed towards David who ushered him into his office.

"Take a seat," the magician offered.

Fitz complied but hoped this wouldn't take too long. The string tanga he wore under the bodice gave him a mighty wedgie. He certainly was eager to slip out of it. Sadly, he had to wait until they arrived at home.

"I've had my eyes on you," David started. "You have talent. And you are easy on the eyes. That is certainly a bonus. I would like to have you as a permanent assistant-"

Fitz nodded. That was fast. From what Maritza told him he thought David would make him jump through a few more hops. He was that kind of an asshole that insisted on a few free performances. Just to see how viable a candidate is.

"However," David continued. "You look a little too young. The paperwork you gave me is a little strange too."

Before Fitz could argue for himself, David turned around his computer monitor. "And there is this. An amber alert for a Kellie Ann Velazquez. Seventeen years old. Bears a strong resemblance to you."

"I can explain-" Fitz started and hoped he could. The magician might not buy the true story. Maybe Fitz had to lie again. Hopefully, his wits wouldn't leave him hanging.

David hushed him. He stood up, but not for long. Just long enough to step around and lean on his desk. For Fitz, it was uncomfortably close. Not to mention it was a bit intimidating.

"I don't care why you ran away from home," David assured him. "You have your reasons. Whatever they may be. All I know is that you want this job and we can come to a compromise. Won't we."

Fitz mentally cursed. He certainly didn't mean- Fitz gave a scared look towards David's crotch. Which was, thanks to David leaning on the desk, right at Fitz eye level and uncomfortably close.

"Now you get the idea," David remarked with a leer.

At once, Fitz stood up. Stumbling away from the chair. "I-'

"Relax," David insisted. He stepped close before Fitz could retreat further. Snaking one hand around Fitz's waist and let the other fell on his left breast. "it won't hurt."

"Back off, Asshole!"

"Get your dirty hands off me!"

David's eyes grew wide as he stumbled back in shock. Looking around to see who else was in the room. "What was that?"

Fitz needed a moment to gather himself. Cursing his own weakness. But seeing the magician scared gave him power. Not only pulled it Fitz out of his shock but also gave him an edge. One his wits latched onto.

"That was Sarah and Ann," Fitz remarked. "My wig and my bodice respectively."

David stumbled back. "You are wearing sentient clothing. Are you nuts. Everybody knows that can attract fashion witches."

"Well, I am one." As David took a few steps towards the door, Fitz shouted out. "Stop right there. Another step and you'll be a garment. Sit down in your chair while I get Maritza."

Warily the magician passed Fitz as he cautiously walked back towards his office desk.

After shouting for Maritza, Fitz took a position opposite David. Not sitting down. Instead, he started to undress. Which apparently calmed the magician down.

"What are you doing?" Maritza asked as she arrived.

"He," Fitz nodded towards David, " tried to force himself on me."

"I-it was a misunderstanding," David interjected.

"I think we both know it was not," Fitz remarked dryly.

"Then why are you undressing?" Maritza asked again.

Fitz put Ann down on a neat pile of sentient garments. It was topped off by Sarah the wig. "Because I think we can still come to an understanding."

"What kind?" David wanted to know.

"Right now, I don't trust you. And I believe none of the girls will either." Fitz's statement was cemented as a few girls spoke out in agreement. Meanwhile, he stripped the last few non-sentient pieces off himself "That means we simply can't let you go. Here is what I propose."

He rested a hand on the stack of sentient garments and fixed David. The magical glyphs Fitz projected in his mind by now very familiar. It took only a second and Fitz was the spitting image of David. "For a duration of one to two years, I'll take over as you. Not ideal, but better than the alternative. If you cooperate then you get your life back afterward. I promise to keep disturbances to a minimum."

After Fitz finished his piece silence settled down in the room. The magician was thinking. It was strange, but he appeared to be calmer. Fitz hoped that was a good sign.

"I have a counteroffer," David eventually spoke up. He leaned forward. One hand on the table and one to the side. Outside of Fitz's field of view. "Go to hell!"

The magician pulled something up and Fitz reacted on instinct. David's clothes started to collapse as no person was holding them up anymore. At the same time, something silverish flew over the desk, landed on the floors and slid over the floor. It came to rest a few inches before Fitz.

While never having an interest in firearms Fitz still could identify the snub-nosed pistol as a colt. He barely had managed to avoid getting gunned down. It shook him to his core.

Maritza had fewer qualms. She picked up the pistol and checked the chambers. "It is fully loaded," she remarked before walking over to were the magician had vanished. Rummaging around, she found a lipstick among the pile of clothes. "I guess this is him?" She looked at Fitz and her expression shifted to worry. "You okay?"

"What? Yeah." Fitz shook himself. "That was not what I wanted. Going in here."

"That fucker got what he deserved," Sarah remarked and got agreement from a few sentient clothes.

"What do we do now?" Maritza asked.

"I think Fitz improvised idea is good," Ann remarked. "He takes over as David. Which would mean we need someone else to step in and train as Lindsey."

"It's not ideal," Fitz remarked. "It exposes more of us. But it was the best I could come up with. If he only had gone for it-"

Maritza stepped close and rubbed Fitz's arm. "David had always been an asshole. He got what he deserved. And I don't doubt for a moment that you will make a better boss than him."

Fitz nodded. "Okay. Time to take a breather. Let's clean up here and then-" He fell silent for a moment. Lost in thought. "We need to find out as much as we can about David if I am to take over for him. I doubt he will be very cooperative and simply tell us all we need to know."

"We should visit his house," Camilla - who was Maritza's bodice - suggested.

"Good idea," Ann said.

* * * * *

"I got something," Sarah yelled from the bedroom.

Her yell got the attention of everyone else. They had swung by Maritza's place and loaded everyone in before heading to David's apartment. There, Fitz returned as many into human form as he could. Giving them more eyes to look through stuff.

Together with three Maritza clones and five Kellie clones, he walked towards the bedroom. Unsurprisingly, no girl wanted to be a copy of David. Which left Fitz as the only male in a gaggle of women.

He found Sarah sitting at David's computer. For once, not as a wig. She too was a copy of Kellie. After everyone had shuffled in, Sarah started to explain.

"The security of his computer was abysmal. It took me no time at all to get access and look through his stuff. It is all there. Bank information and even the pins for his credit cards. Past bills and so on. I saw what he earns and what he pays Maritza as pay." She looked at Maritza. "Girl that dude was scamming you. He could have been way more generous with your salary."

"Anything else useful?" Fitz asked.

Sarah nodded. "I found something interesting in his email account. A deleted mail that offered him a job."

"What kind?" Jess asked.

"Same as here," Sarah explained. "As a stage magician. Just on a cruise ship. It pays less. Probably the reason why David ignored it."

Fitz nodded as his mind deciphered why Sarah brought it up. "This might be ideal for us. A cruise ship is more out of the way. Better to hide. There is also a smaller risk for other fashion witches to find us. I observed how 'evil Kellie' hunted. Always in big cities and never in small communities. Which always bothered me with Las Vegas. This city must be a prime hunting spot for fashion witches."

"Sounds like a plan," Claudia remarked. "Do we vote on it?"

They did a moment later. They all were in favor to escape the big city and go for a cruise.

* * * * *

Fitz sighed in relief as he arrived home. Well, not his home. David's. And not for much longer. They had signed on with the cruise ship and would travel down to New Orleans in a few days. The port of call for the big ship that would be their new home.

Maritza already had canceled her apartment and everyone stayed in the bigger apartment of David. Which meant a second shower that Fitz was just happy to use right away.

As he walked out he noticed an unusual quietness. All those that were currently human of their group were quietly talking among themselves. It made Fitz uneasy.

"So, what is up?" he demanded to know.

No, one spoke to him, but Sarah. "You should talk to Ann. She is in the bedroom."

That statement wasn't really helpful. But Fitz did decide to not avoid whatever was going on. Heading to the bedroom a moment later.

The sight that awaited him was breathtaking. Ann - in the body of Maritza - was laying in flimsy lingerie on the bed. The room was dimly lit by a dozen candles. Clearly, this was planned beforehand.

It pained Fitz that his first reaction was to sport a boner. It annoyed him a little. So long he had lived without this troublesome detail that it now could rub him wrong.

"There you are," Ann purred. "We need to talk."

"This doesn't look like you want to talk," Fitz remarked with a small grin he couldn't deny.

"All this," Ann gestured to herself and the room. "Is a reward. If our little talk works out."

"I am all ears."

"David needs a girlfriend. Two in fact," Ann opened. "The beautiful assistants have conquered his heart and changed his cocky playboy self to something decent."

"That is quite the narrative," Fitz remarked. "But I see a problem. Is Maritza up for it? Or any of the girls that cycle through."

"We all voted on it together," Ann assured him. "We all want this. But there is more. We want to be more than a role. If you agree we all will be your girlfriends."

"Like a har-" Fitz started to ask.

"As in you will have about thirty girlfriends," Ann insisted. "Look. We all want the time when it is our time in the cycle as human to be as rewarding as it can be. To feel as human as we can. You can help with that. To give something steady. Some might reward you with becoming intimate. Others won't. It is up to them. Do you agree to the terms?"

Fitz took a moment to think about it. To mull it over with the brain in his head instead of the one between his legs. Eventually, it resulted in him nodding. "I, David Sanders, am a changed man thanks to you all. It would be my honor to be your gentlemen-boyfriend and to the others."

"Well said." Ann gave him a naughty grin. "Time for your reward. I need you. Not as David, but as Fitz."

"Are you sure?"

"I have waited a long time for this."

The confession made Fitz stumble a bit. "You did?"

"I had a thing for you even before you joined the drama club," Ann confirmed.

"I only joined the drama club for you," Fitz admitted.

Ann gave him a wonderful smile and pulled him on the bed. "If only we could go back to those days."

"Well, my body is lost, but we could wait with this until you are in your body again."

Ann froze. Just for a moment, but Fitz noticed. "I am not ready yet. To be Kellie again. It sounds stupid, but I learned to hate my old body. Seeing what the fashion witch did with it. I can't get past it. At least, for now."

Fitz nodded. "Maybe it is only fitting that we both aren't in our original bodies anymore."

"Fitz?"

"Yes?"

"Stop philosophizing and kiss me," Ann demanded.

He did and for a few hours, the world around them cease to assist.

It was late at night as both enjoyed the afterglow.

"Was being a lipstick really that awful?" Ann suddenly asked.

"In hindsight, yes. Yes, it was," Fitz insisted. "Though sometimes I miss it. Just slightly. The simplicity of being it."

"I know what you mean," Ann admitted. "Quite a few of us do. A few don't even mind a lot when we go back to being a sentient item. As long as we know it won't be forever. Heck, Sarah skipped a few of her turns to remain a wig longer."

It made Fitz grin. In the following silence, he admitted something else. "I feel bad for it, but sometimes I miss wearing sentient clothing. It felt special."

Ann nodded. None of the girls wanted to be male garments. Leaving Fitz the only one who didn't wear anyone of them. "Yes, it does. Some of us don't want to stop. The cycling between being human and being clothing. Say, you have been a girl for so long. Do you miss that?"

It took a few heartbeats before Fitz answered. "For the longest time, I thought it was just that. Becoming a girl forever or lipstick. I tried to make my peace with it. Then the thing with David happened and I was suddenly male again. And-"

Fitz stopped for a moment. Hunting for the right words. "It doesn't feel as it used to be, you know? It might be because David's body is more than a decade older than mine, but somehow I doubt it. I admit it. Looking back, being a girl felt sometimes better."

"Well, maybe when all this is over and we are more secure then you can change back," Ann mused aloud.

"You wouldn't mind?" Fitz asked. "I mean you are my girlfriend now, right? So are the girls out there. Wouldn't they mind?"

Ann gave a brilliant laugh. "Well, no. You see here is the secret. Not everyone whose turn it was to be a human spend all their time on meditating. You can only spend so much time as a garment on a female body without it becoming special. Even sexual. Some developed quite the fetish for the body parts they mostly hung around at. Don't think I didn't notice how often you kissed me on the lips. I swear it appeared half the foreplay that you needed."

Fitz blushed but soon needed a definite answer. "So, you wouldn't mind me becoming a girl again?"

She nodded. "I can't wait for David as a cover role to lose his importance. And then we can experiment. Deal?"

"Sounds good," Fitz admitted. "Sounds perfect."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end.

For now.

Fitz and his (harem/) many girlfriends will return in "Evelyn builds a lair."