The witch was busy. So busy in fact that she decided to devolve the task of punishing and in effect torturing John to someone else. Someone she liked very much. Who knew what he was doing and follow her instructions. And he'd be overjoyed at her ideas, she just knew it. So she made a few calls through her crystal ball and then used said crystal ball to find her next victim after Damon: John. That thug had no idea of what was coming for him.
Thus John was very surprised when the old woman he had robbed burst into his tiny derelict apartment as if the locked door was nothing. He and Chris had heard nothing about Damon, neither through the police or news. So whatever had happened, he would not or not could talk. So much the better for them. But now... That old hag was there. In his place. Looking evil and triumphant. What the hell?... He grabbed his gun from his drawer and aimed it at her. He then insulted her and said she had three second to leave before he shot her.But she merely laughed a waved a wooden stick in his direction. The gun disappeared, turned into pebbles and little pieces of gravel. John looked at the remnants of his gun, not daring to believe it. No! How could it be? This was not possible! But his gun was not there. It wasn’t there anymore! The witch cackled loudly and heartily.
"You're rude and use your toys too often. You act like a naughty little boy. Sounds like you need to raised again. Or rather, you can be amongst toys and never worry about not having to act your age!"
She waved her wand and before John knew what was happening, the word loomed over him. Suddenly, the ceiling reached high and the apartment became one of giants. When it stopped, even the witch was as great as a very tall tree. The table and chairs were unreachable. Even his clothes were fit only for someone many, many times his own size. He was naked and had to extricate himself from the very collar of big old sweater.
"You've turned into a giant!" he squeaked in a tiny voice.
His voice! It was small and puny and ridiculous!
"Think again, stupid little burglar. The world did not get bigger. You just shrunk drastically."
And she was right. He was the size of a doll! Of a toy! He started to run away. Never mind that he was naked! He was weak and tiny and at the mercy of an old hag that was now towering over him!
"And it's not over," she laughed.
Another wave of her wand brought new changes to John's body. He could still move but his body shifted to being different, alien. His limbs became longer and skinnier. His torso lost all shape and became just an oval. Then, his head molded itself into something else and as he touched it he saw that it was smooth and soft. Yet the strangest was his insides. They became not exactly empty but replaced. Replaced with something soft that made his new body bulge. Like... padding. Stuffing. Yes, yes. It was exactly as it felt like. So engrossed he was by his unbelievable transformation, he did not notice the witch approach, bend down and pick him up effortlessly. He shouted but she took him to the bathroom where the mirror offered him a nightmarish image. The witch was grinning but where he was, in her hand, was a doll. A strange doll. It was a ragdoll all right but as if two had been merged in a freakish Frankenstein experiment. His head was like the smooth polished wood of a male ragdoll of the 50's but his body showed no clothes. On the contrary, it was a fleshy pink and quite rosy. No printed clothes were on him! His body was that of a dress-up doll! And the worse was yet to come. Cackling, the witch put him sideways so he could gaze in the mirror at his cotton groin. He had nothing! His privates were gone! Replaced by a few stitches meant to represent a little simple privacy, with a dark narrow line supposed to represent a slit. A crude slit. He had not even a penis and a scrotum done in a simple drawing. He just had a cunt! A cunt! John flailed his limbs about in anger, demanding to be changed back and hurling insults at the old hag. Naturally, she had no intention of doing so and laughed, tapping the forehead of the living doll she had created and John lost consciousness.
When he came to again, he was in a strange environment. He recalled what had happened to him. That old witch had changed him onto a roy! A stupid toy with a cunt! He tried to move but couldn't. Wherever he was, it was dark and though he did not need to breathe anymore, he could tell that were he was had little oxygen. The weirdest was his direct surroundings. It pressed on him but it was soft. Like if he was enveloped in stuffing. He had padding for organs and he was smothered into a padding-style material. Great. Enough with the stupid padding already! He wanted out! He could move so he tried to kick and spread his arms but even if the material stretched a little, it then returned to its shape as if he hadn't done anything. Was he stuffed inside a bag or something? And he could hear voices. Male voices and all seemed merry and laughing. There were people nearby! And he could talk so he had to attract their attention! They would help him surely.
"Help! Help, I'm stuck! Help me! I'm inside this thing!" he shouted, aware that the padding muffled his voice.
He continued kicking and hollering but he could only hear in response more shouts of exclamations and laughter. And then his prison sort of... shifted. He was being moved! Someone must have grabbed the bag he was in and put it somewhere else! Then someone had heard him. He increased his kicks and cries for help, ignoring his incipient tiredness. The people outside must have heard him because they continued to talk, laugh, and prison to move. Like it was being jolted and shaken around. And then he saw it. Light. A tiny bit of light. Not emerging as a ray but just to be glimpsed as a lighter spot, greyish or bluish. But there was one! He could get out! At the cost of great difficulty, he shifted his position. As far as he could tell, he had to be upside down to reach it. The precious way out was at the bottom of his bag-prison. Not the top, surprisingly. But wherever it was, it counted as a way out. He pressed on it with his feet and the spot gave way! After going though a wall of soft fabric, his leg and foot emerged outside! He could feel the void. Hooray. He moved and dangled it wildly, hoping to attract attention. Someone had to see him and help him get the rest of his body out! And it did seem to work. At first. Because he could hear shouts and he cried more for help. But then something weird happened. He felt something grab his foot and something... tickled it. It tickled the arch and balls of his cotton foot and he gasped. John was then racked by spasms and giggles, begging for help and for the torture to stop. It did and he made his foot retrieve inside its safe prison. What was that??? Maybe the comfy prison was a safe place after all... But no. He couldn't stay here! He had to get out! It was probably a misunderstanding. A mistake. He'd show he was a man transformed into a stupid toy by a witch and he'd get help. He managed to make his arm emerge and waved it about with all the strength of his despair. But it seemed to work, because it was grabbed and he was pulled out, finally free of his fleece constraint. Yet it turned out he had not been stuffed in a bag. It was something much, much worse.
He was greeted by a harsh light. But he could hear and he was surrounded by roars of laughter and mocking jeers. As his eyes adjusted to his new environment, he thought he was dreaming again because what he saw could not be possible. It just couldn't. e was surrounded by teddy bears. Living teddy bears each twice his size. They had different clothes or accessories about them. There were a few other stuffed animals too and all were grinning and laughing in mean voices. The one holding John under his armpits shouted:
"Congratulations! It's a girl! A lovely baby girl!"
Everyone laughed and John attempting to get out of the teddy's grip and claiming he was a man only brought on more taunts and guffaws. Angry, he turned around and understood that he had not been stuck into a bag, but in the insides of a the belly belonging to a teddy bear monstrosity. It had an opening where the stomach should be and could have another plushie stuffed there to pretend it was pregnant. No wonder he had felt like he did when he was trapped there. It was just fabric but the mere thought... Ugh!!! And the worst was the teddy bear to whom it belonged. A big thing dressed in a pink apron and covered in as much ostentations makeup and false eyelashes as a cheap prostitute.
"My baby! My beautiful little baby!" it exclaimed in a false voice.
Its voice. It was the high-pitched voice of some sort of drag-queen. And John had been stuffed in THAT? The simple thought was revolting! But the teddy bear holding him grinned down at him evilly.
"Before we offer you back your sweet little girl, let's dress her up, shall we?"
Everyone approved with clapping and John was dragged to a toy changing table. Sensing what was coming, he screamed and shouted insults but he was just too weak. A doll diaper was slipped on him. He did manage to flee, running and flailing his limbs in his haste but he was caught up by another plushie before he could even reach the door of the closed immense room. The plushie that had grabbed him took advantage of him in his arms to place a frilly white and pink bonnet on him. Then it was the turn of a pink dress just as frilly and repulsive and amidst jeers, all of the other toys accompanied him back to his 'mommy' who did an awful acting of cradling him, cooing at him and kissing him while whispering sweet nonsense at him. It was mad! But John managed to kick the drag-queen bear away and as he attempted to yet again run away, threw toy accessories at all the others. He did notice that there were no dolls around. Just horrible soft toys. Alas, they caught him and the teddy bear said that the little baby girl had to learn her place. Yet all the others seemed happy at that thought.
The wizard in charge of the teddies did not show up for weeks but he knew they all had everything under control. He trusted them. When Maggie, his witch friend, had asked for his help in punishing a stupid burglar, he had seized the opportunity. His creations needed a boy toy and what Maggie proposed sounded deliciously fun. All his creations had agreed. For John, though, it had been torture. Because he was judged too "fussy", he was relentlessly and mercilessly tickled. The plushies discovered all his weak spots and held him down or immobilized him in their arms to get others to brush, kiss and glide a feather at the entirety of his body. The more he pleaded for them to stop, the more they loved it. They always referred to him as a baby girl and in the end, he got punished so much though tickling, when the bears weren't just submitting him to the torture for plain fun that John just became named as "Coochie Coochie Coo". Some days, that was all the plushies said to him, intent as they were on making him a real sweet baby, as they said. They kept telling him he was a little baby girl, a silly little baby girl and it was only when he acted like one, crawling on all fours and giggling and gurgling and cooing that he was left alone. Regarding the tickling, of course, because the taunts and jeers were constant. He was also bounced on knees and "Mommy" loved to rock and cradle him, saying Coochie Coochie Coo was the 'adorablest' baby in the whole wide world. John was miserable but he did not know what to do. Only when he slept in his frilly cradle or when 'Mommy' waved a pendulum in from of his sleepy eyes did he find peace, even if he knew the latter was hypnosis and that during it he must have acted like the silly baby they all treated him as. When he bawled out in anger and frustration, he was patted and hugged to get him to smile more. And he was given a pacifier and a bottle. Or his belly was poked, tapped, patted and tickled until tears came out of his eyes and everyone gushed that he was now crying in joy. Over time, John just thought about making it day to day, hour by hour. The less he was teased and tickled, the better, even if he had to act like a real baby doll. Only the next few hours ahead counted, never mind the next day or next week. Slowly, he could only act like a baby and was hypnotised more and more frequently without realizing it. One of his last coherent thoughts was that he would have preferred actual prison by far.