“I’m nervous,” Emerald giggled.

“You probably should be,” Freya teased. “Go on, open it.”

The submissive peered at the small box in the palm of her left hand. It was December 23^rd, and they had already agreed to save their gifts to each other for Christmas Eve. But Freya had strongly hinted that this ‘bonus gift’ was less Christmassy, and more kinky. Emerald dreaded to think what her girlfriend’s devious mind had conjured up (perhaps literally) this time.

With some trepidation, Emerald tugged the ribbon wrapped around the box, undoing the bow. Then she prised off the lid with her thumb and index finger. There was a whoosh sound, and she gulped involuntarily, as if swallowing excess air.

Looking inside the box, she frowned - it was empty. She turned the box upside down, as if expecting the non-existent contents to fall out. “I don’t get it.”

Freya said nothing - she just stood there with a wide grin, watching her girlfriend/plaything intently.

Emerald gave her a perplexed half-smile - and that was when the box dropped from her suddenly numb fingers. “Wha-” Her surprised exclamation turned out to be premature, as now she felt her body starting to straighten of its own volition, her legs pressing together, her raised arms lowering to her sides. “Oh-kaayy,” she mumbled, watching herself pose at attention.

The strangest part was, although she gave all appearances of going stiff and rigid, she didn’t feel that way. If anything, her body felt increasingly squishy and pliant - like she was turning into a marshmallow. Her arms and hands felt as if they had melded with her sides and hips, her legs as if they had fused together. Perhaps they had. She couldn’t look down to check any more - her head had straightened to face directly forwards, and she couldn’t lower it, or indeed move it at all. The only parts of her that could move were her eyes and mouth - and her dick, apparently, which became evident as the increasing helplessness had its usual effect on her.

If Emerald had thought the near-total paralysis was the extent of Freya’s ‘gift’, she was soon proven wrong. As the seconds ticked by, she began to feel lighter and lighter, as if gravity was losing its power over her. At the same time she felt a strange pressure inside her frozen body, like it was filling up with air. Soon, she felt her feet lift off the carpet, and she began to slowly float upwards.

“Whoooah!” she cried, as she rose into the air, starting to helplessly tilt backwards. Freya grabbed her by the ankle to stop her going any higher, but the sudden grip on her weightless body see-sawed her top half back forwards until she was almost vertical again. She let out a startled yelp.

“Merry Christmas,” Freya cackled.

“You - but - I... am I... a balloon?” Emerald stammered, drifting helplessly back and forth above her girlfriend.

“You’re my balloon. My pretty Christmas decoration.”

Emerald felt something being tied around her ankle - a thin piece of string. Then Freya abruptly let go of her, and she shrieked with alarm as she suddenly shot upwards, only to be halted just as abruptly as the string went taut, making her jerk up and down for a few seconds before settling.

“This - fuck,” she spluttered. “You - oh Goddess, Freya... I didn’t know you could do this! This is so advanced...”

“I didn’t,” Freya admitted. “I bought it from this magic joke shop in town. I was looking for a fun new way to mess with you, and this seemed to fit the bill! How are you finding it?”

“Super weird,” Emerald giggled. She had begun to tilt backwards again, finding herself facing the ceiling of Freya’s bedroom. With her limbs fused to her inflatable, immobilised body, there was nothing she could do to control the direction or speed with which she moved - she could only lazily drift wherever the air took her.

“Well, if you think that’s weird, watch this.”

Freya suddenly loosened her grip on the string, and Emerald flew upwards again - and thudded into the ceiling, face first. “Aaah!” she cried - but from surprise, not pain. The impact hadn’t hurt at all. And as she bobbed up and down, her nose repeatedly bumping into the white plaster surface, she still felt essentially nothing. She was aware of the collisions, but they had no effect on her.

“Neat, huh? You’re basically made of rubber right now, so nothing can hurt you, or harm you in any way. Whack into anything, and you won’t feel it - even if you hit a part of yourself that can still move, like your eyes or your dick.” Freya tugged on the very end of the string, making Emerald jerk and bounce her face against the ceiling again. “Even sharp objects won’t work - you won’t burst like a normal balloon. You just ricochet and bounce off anything you come into contact with.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Emerald said shakily. “Little warning next time, please!”

“Sorry,” her Mistress chuckled. “Are you having fun, at least?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s awesome being a balloon. Ten out of ten, would recommend.”

Freya fell about laughing, suspecting that her helpless girlfriend’s sarcasm was largely faked. Truth be told, Emerald was finding the novelty of being a weightless, paralysed balloon extremely fun - if a little scary! She wasn’t quite used to whacking her face on hard surfaces and feeling not an ounce of pain, but she had to admit she appreciated it. The complex spell had clearly been planned and executed with great care. And the powerlessness of being completely incapacitated, drifting through the air with no control over where she went, dependent on her Mistress to guide her and keep her tethered... That was utterly thrilling.

“How long is this gonna last?”

“Couple of hours. When it wears off, apparently your body density will slowly return to normal and gradually sink you back down to the ground, so you’ll land safely.” Emerald still couldn’t see Freya’s face, but could hear the smirk in her voice as she added, “Plenty of time to take you into town and show you off.”

She gulped nervously. True, they were in a magical community, and the sight of someone under the effects of a hex was probably quite commonplace. But she was still apprehensive of being seen in this helpless state, being paraded publicly as Freya’s plaything. At the same time, the idea was irresistibly hot.

Emerald was staying with Freya for a few days leading up to Christmas Eve, before returning home to spend Christmas Day with her family. She, her parents and her uncle lived in suburban Melbourne, in a mostly non-magical neighbourhood, and were not exactly flush with wealth. By contrast, Freya belonged to one of a few towns for sorcerers and their families hidden across Australia, concealed from charmless eyes in the same manner as Hexbourne. Despite having mostly lived among other magicians, Freya had showed no trepidation when Emerald invited her to come and stay with her in return, and they had arranged for her to travel to Melbourne and join her for New Year. She had been very excited to meet Emerald’s family.

In the meantime, though, Freya had Emerald all to herself. Freya’s mothers (who had taken an immediate liking to Emerald, encouraging her to quickly drop the polite, formal manner she’d adopted when she’d arrived and relax more around them) had gone out on a Christmas date, leaving the teen couple with the house to themselves. The dominant witch had wasted no time giving her submissive her magical gift, and clearly planned to continue taking advantage of her parents’ absence.

A thought occurred to Emerald as she slowly glided along the ceiling. “Wait, what happens if you let go of my string when I’m outside? Do I just float off into space?”

“Oh no, no, the guy in the shop told me there’s a safety measure for that,” Freya reassured her. “Once you reach a certain height, the spell automatically begins to dissipate in exactly the same way it normally would, so you’ll sink back down safely.” The sigh of relief Emerald let out was enough to push her head away from the ceiling, tilting her back until she was almost upside down.

With the tiniest effort, Freya tugged Emerald back down, lowering her until she floated just above the bed. Extending a single finger, she pressed it into Emerald’s chest and pushed the weightless girl down onto the bed, lying her flat on her back. Emerald could feel the air inside her trying to lift her back up again, but the pressure of that one solitary fingertip was more than enough to hold her in place.

“Just a quick trip to the shops... and then, when we get back, I may want to do some other things with you,” Freya said playfully. “I’ve never had my very own inflatable love doll before. It’d be most remiss of me not to make use of it...”

Emerald stammered some incoherent noises in reply. Freya suddenly took her finger away, and she shot upwards with a squeal, violently flipping from horizontal to vertical as her string went taught again.

Giggling like an excitable child, Freya scurried towards the open door of her bedroom. Her living blow-up doll floated along behind her, rapidly bobbing up and down, bumping her head on the doorframe on the way out.