Packaged For Her

For the past several days you had been trapped inside a box, unable to move. You could also tell you were no longer a human. For you had been Tf’ed into some smaller body, likely some kind of pillow from your limited information.

What had happened to you was that a nearby “Tf store” was In need of more product, and you happened to be one of the people nearby to the store who they decided to borrow for restocking sake.

You had specifically been turned into a replica of the popular IKEA plushie Blahaj! Labeled as a simple “large shark plush.” For copyright reasons. For a few days now your box would remain on the shelf until one afternoon you felt the box get picked up and carried around. You tried yelling out to the person carrying you for help, but nothing came out as you were scanned and sold off.

Your new owner eventually reached their home, after an hour of agonizing waiting, you owner got to opening your packaging. A knife haphazardly stabbed into your box, ripping away the tape as light flooded your chamber.

Looking up, you were met with the dorky face of a 18 year old Canadian girl. Beaming with joy she scooped you out of the box into a tight hug. Which crushed your soft body with all the strength a wimpy teenager can provide.

“Finally! Thank you whoever you were Shark boi, I’ve been waiting for eons to get me one of these!!” She told you, kicking the box away she booked it to her room. Violently jolting you about in her arms as she Enters her gross bedroom. Rather than cleaning her room however, she instead leaped into her bed with you in her arms. Warming your plush body as she excitedly revels in acquiring her very own Blahaj.

Eventually her iron grip releases you onto the bed. Where a repugnant Oder seeps into your plush body, binding the filth of her unwashed sheets and blankets to your literal soul.

“Dose owner even fucking shower? Ever heard of soap?” You think as your owner snuggles beside a you, the casual acceptance of being an object slipping past you as your mind contorts to the plush body you inhabit. You lay there for a while as your owner types up an excited post online about nabbing herself the goofy ikea shark.

Once she clicks post she stands up, with you still dangling in her arms. And for the rest of the day you are taken around with her as she goes about her day. Sitting next to her as she played Minecraft. Sitting too close to the sink as she begrudgingly dose dishes, soaking up an unhealthy amount of water into your fabric. You eventually get thrown back into her dirty room, this time laying against the door as she saunters off into the shower.

“Thank goodness, at least owner won’t reek for a while.” You think while laying on the floor, by now you have forgone resistance to your inanimate predicament. By now it’s clear that your owner won’t be turning you back, and there is no real possibility of you turning back. So as the blissful acceptance of being an object washes over you as you wait for your owner to return.

Which, she eventually dose, adorning a towel she walks past you as she grabs comfy clothes for bed. Once dressed for slumber, owner grabs you and snuggles up into bed, scrolling on her phone while she cuddles you, warming you up as you yourself “slept” as best as an object could. Her damn post would also give you some water damage after man post shower slumbers with her to come..