Cathy wobbled a little on the comfy chair. Being so light was difficult; the slight movement of her body was enough to toss her off the chair.
"Well, first I need to not be a balloon," Cathy said from the floor. "Wait, I've heard of people who get off from the thought of being turned into furniture."
"That's weird," Jen burst out. "What kind of furniture?"
"Chairs and couches and tables and stuff. Also harps. I don't understand it either. But it has something to do with becoming an object I'm sure."
"And you want to try it?" Naomi asked a bit sceptical. Naomi was absentmindedly holding her breasts as they continued to swell.
"This coming from the inflatable, latex-doll?" Cathy retorted.
"Alright! Fine. What do you want me to say?" With an effort Naomi focused all her attention on her sister.
"Hmm," Cathy thought. What sort of furniture would she want to be? She had never actually thought about this in her entire life. She had read about people wanting to be beanbag chairs and wooden tables and lamps for some reason. It all seemed to bizarre. What was the appeal? She had read stories on the internet but she could not understand. Cathy thought about what it would mean to be unable to move. Would she want people to sit on her or to place nick-knacks on her back? No, she thought, I want to be a chair, something comfy, that swivels. "Alright, Naomi, turn me into a leather executive office-chair on wheals."
The curse was passed and Cathy felt the changes start.
Her body went rigid and then it was forced to rise up off the floor. She found herself in a seated position with her feet together and her arms bent outward, her elbows tucked in close to her body. Next came a familiar sense of weight inside her body, something that she had missed. Her feet became incredibly heavy and cold as if they were metal. Cathy would have liked to try and move about with such heavy feet and light body but that would have to wait. The rest of her body became heavier with the metal frame and foam padding filling her up. Cathy had the unusual feeling of being stuffed. Her still plastic skin stretched over the foam in a way that she could only compare to wearing extremely tight clothing. Except that her skin was the clothing.
There was a gasp from Jen, and Cathy thought it odd that a chair should be able to hear. "Look at her feet, Naomi! That is seriously weird."
Cathy concentrated on feeling her feet. Her heals had merged together to become the central support. Her toes had split and extended forming a star of supports each ending in a caster wheal. Cathy tried to wiggle her toes but found herself denied even that small movement. Her shins were merging now forming the pillar that would hold her up. Then she felt something complicated happen to her knees as they joined and twisted and became the spring loaded swivel-tilt mechanism for the chair. Her lower legs changed from the flexible plastic of her balloon body to sturdy metal capable of holding up fat corporate butts.
Cathy's thighs merged suddenly and spread outward becoming a seat. Her knees shifted to a point somewhere about mid-thigh on the back of her legs and were now attached by screws. Her legs all the way up to her hips formed into a neatly curved seat designed to be sat upon for hours. Comfy rubber foam covered in supple, dark-brown leather; Cathy could almost feel the quality of her body increase. At her waist she felt a disjoint as her upper body detached from her lower body forming a back rest adjustable for height. Her torso widened and formed a curving back rest much like her thighs. She felt like she was arching her back to thrust out her breasts which had morphed into soft-cushions to rest a head against. Her arms down to her elbows disappeared into her body and her lower arms out to her hands became the soft-padded, leather covered counter parts to her body.
All that was left of the balloon girl was her head. When Cathy felt it suddenly flatten and flair outward into a carefully designed head rest, she heard the scream from Jen. This transformation had been a little more involved than when she became a pool-toy but it was nothing too spectacular. Perhaps Jen just could not deal with such a change? Cathy really needed to reach out to her.
"Jen? Can you hear me?" Cathy called with the telepathy the curse granted to people with no mouth.
"Cathy? Are you alright?" Jen responded.
"I'm fine, girl. It didn't hurt at all."
"Cathy, this is just too weird. I'm talking to a chair."
"No, your talking to me. I just happen to be a chair at the moment." Cathy could feel the fear in the girl. She also felt that desire to be put to use.
"This is too weird." Jen said again.
"Why don't come and sit on me, Jen? It will help to put your mind at ease." Cathy said as calmly as she could.
"No," Jen said firmly. "That would be too weird."
"Jen, it's your turn for the curse. Come and sit on me while you decide what you want to be next."
"No."
"Jen, come on. I promise to be good. But if you refuse I can't be so good to you next."
Cathy did not want to threaten Jen but she really wanted to make her sit. Why did chair-Cathy want this so much? She heard Jen stand and waited patiently. If she did not get someone to sit on her Cathy could always use the curse on them.