Dark Mistress

The more things unfolded, the easier everything looked for Nyxe's plans. Bridget was by far the easiest conquest, accepting Nyxe's presence far more quickly than either Tiffany or Gwen. By the afternoon, Nyxe had doubled in power from what she'd received from Gwen before Bridget arrived.

Nyxe's explorations with the two had revealed them to be a perfect pair. Gwen seemed to have an affinity for playing with well-shaped shirts, and likewise appreciated the same attention with her girls. Bridget, on the other hand, preferred her backside to get most of the attention, and had a few toys to prove it.

Now Nyxe was relaxing with both of the girls in the room, with a couple outfits from each girl lounging with them on their beds.

"You mean, we can learn to control things like you do?" Bridget asked.

"Yes," Nyxe's outfit replied, the blouse turning around to face Bridget. "But what you've seen so far is nothing." The blouse continued shuffling through Bridget's closet. Bridget turned to Gwen, her eyes wide. Gwen bit her lip, smiling.

"You keep saying that," Gwen responded, "but just how far does your power go?" Nyxe's outfit tossed a couple items out of the closet--creme-colored slacks and a long-sleeved striped blouse--and tossed them to the center of the room. The hangers hovered on their own, but the clothes on them stayed flat and motionless.

"A question best left for another time," Nyxe said. "You do like what you've seen so far, do you not?"

Both girls responded affirmatively, talking over each other.

"Good." Nyxe's outfit stood in front of the floating hangers. "Now...what I need next is an anchor point."

"Anchor point?" Bridget asked.

"Yes, something to keep me here while I go exploring." Nyxe's tan blouse raised a sleeve to the slacks, which slid off their hanger. "I've got enough power to split myself now, and if Miss Tiffany is on this campus as well, it would be in my best interest to get far part of myself far away from here in case anything happens."

"So, you're really worried about her, then," Gwen said.

"No doubt she'll tell the Heyver Witch about me when she gets home," Nyxe sighed. "When she does, Ana will obsess over last night's events."

"But Tiffany and--those boots--both thought you were gone," Gwen responded.

"So the boots retained the spark of life despite my being severed from them..." Nyxe said. Gwen nodded. "And they believed I was eradicated?"

"I'm pretty sure," Gwen said. "I mean, that's what it sounded like."

"That's good," Nyxe said, waving the blouse off of its hanger. Now the outfit was laid out together, standing up, but still flat. The hangers bobbed back into Bridget's closet. "That might give me more time before I'm detected again."

Gwen and Bridget watched as Nyxe's blouse, skirt, and stocking outfit stood across from the flat outfit. Its pantlegs were at rest on the floor, and now its wobbly fabric sleeves extended toward's Nyxe's filled ones. Gwen's flannel pajama set, which she'd been snuggling with in her 2nd afterglow of the day, tackled and straddled her. Bridget's yoga pants turned Bridget over and tangled their legs around hers. Both girls playfully grappled with their clothes as they were restrained and felt up by fabric cuffs again.

"Mmhmm...just a little more sugar, girls." Nyxe murmured, locking the other outfits sleeves in her own. The outfit began inflating starting at the ends of its sleeves and working into the top of the blouse. Invisible tits pushed against the fabric, unrestrained by any bra. Bridget started laughing as her wrists were tied behind her with one pantleg. The other flattened itself into a makeshift paddle and punished her bare ass.

Now the other outfit was half-filled, with the hips and butt of the slacks beginning to take shape. Nyxe's outfit made what sounded like a deep sigh as the tan slacks across from them finished filling up.

"Ooh, too early--" said Nyxe's voice from above the tan blouse. "I feel woozy." The blouse and skirt outfit slouched and stumbled over toward Gwen's bed. Both girls noticed something was wrong. The clothes playing with them lost power and slumped lifeless.

"What's up?" Gwen asked, reaching out to catch the tan blouse. "You okay?" The outfit laid down on the bed while the other, fully inflated, hovered in place.

"I can't hold it together," the blouse whispered. "I over-estimated myself a little, it seems. I need more power."

"Well, isn't there something we can do?" Bridget asked, sitting up and looking at her own filled out outfit in the middle of the room. "What about this outfit? It's still standing on its own and filled out to shape."

"As far as I could get," Nyxe's tan blouse said. "But there is something you can do, my dears. I need one of you to wear that outfit." The girls looked at each other. Bridget shrugged.

"I mean, they're my clothes, so I guess I should, right?" She shrugged. "I just gotta wear 'em?"

"You're both wonderful sources of power," Nyxe replied, "but a third would guarantee the strength I need." Bridget tried to pull on the fabric of the blouse, but the incorporeal form within it didn't seem to budge. "Just unbutton it, my dear. Then you can place your arms inside the sleeves. Once you're inside, I can do the rest."

But what about the pa--" Bridget's question was pre-empted by the pants sliding to the floor over the invisible legs that seemed to hold their shape. "Ah, okay. So just step inside the holes?"

"You've got it," Nyxe said. "And Gwen--perhaps you'd wear me for the time being?" Gwen shrugged.

"Well...I would, Nyxe, but that blouse is a little roomy for my proportions." Nyxe's blouse put a half-deflated sleeve on Gwen's shoulder.

"I have a solution to that, if you're willing to let me try." Gwen looked down at her bare breasts.

"Uhmmm...you're not talking about what I think you're talking about, are you?" Gwen pictured her tits ballooning out to the size of the forms that occupied the tan blouse a couple minutes ago.

"Oh no. I'm not quite that powerful yet, but we can take care of that later if you help me."

"Wait, really?" Gwen asked. "You can change the shape of our bodies?"

"We've a lot of work to do between now and then," Nyxe responded, "but the answer is yes. Like I said, given the right power sources, I can do anything." Bridget finished unbuttoning the blouse and slipped her right arm into the filled out sleeve. After doing the same with the other, the front of the blouse came together, the buttons fastening themselves.

"Now on your toes," Bridget heard a whisper just under her ear. It was Nyxe's voice, but it was coming from her own blouse.

"Wait," said Bridget. "I should put some underwear on." She tried to step forward, but the blouse lifted her to her toes instead.

"You won't need them," the whisper said. "Feel." The blouse sleeves moved on their own, pointing Bridget's hands toward her own breasts. She squeezed obediently, and it wasn't until now that she realized that they weren't actually touching the fabric of the shirt. The slacks slid up her calves and over her thighs, cinching themselves closed around her hips as the zipper climbed its threads.

"But," Bridget reached up toward the last fastened button, 2nd from the top. The sleeves pulled her hands away.

"No, no--" The blouse said. "No fair peeking, my sweet. Just feel." Bridget shuddered as a texture soft as air swept over her nipples. She looked down and saw that the movement couldn't be seen from the outside of the shirt, where motionless nipples seemed to protrude from the front.

"Oooh..." Bridget cooed, now detecting a similar sensation between her legs. "No, no--nnn...what are you doing?"

"Just relax. I'm going to be your underwear today." Meanwhile, Nyxe's original outfit was slithering over Gwen's body.

"I need to be worn..." Nyxe said to Gwen with a seductive tone. "I know these don't seem like the best fit for you, but just trust me." The buttons on the tan blouse began unfastening, as Gwen watched Bridget's will turned to putty by the other outfit.

"Doesn't that feel good, sweetie?" Nyxe's voice asked Bridget. Bridget nodded as she felt the blouse and pants let her down off her toes again. "Good. Now let's wait for Gwen." Bridget felt herself walk a few steps and turn around to sit on her own bed, facing Gwen.

Now Nyxe's stockings were working their way over Gwen's legs. The skirt shimmied up her legs and zipped up, leaving an obvious gap. Gwen's hips didn't fill the curvy skirt, and when the tan blouse slid over her arms and buttoned, it fell loose over her.

"See?" Gwen said. "You feel very nice on my body, but it doesn't look ri--"

"Hush," Nyxe commanded. "Watch and learn." The blouse pulled Gwen to an upright, seated position. Gwen watched as the blouse puffed out to full form, and she felt a light, evenly-distributed pressure around her tits and tummy as it did. It was a soft, frictionless pressure that made it feel like her torso was being wrapped in a slippery bubble.

"It feels strange," Gwen said, "like you're between my body and the clothing." Bridget's eyes lit up.

"Oh my god, that's what it is!" She exclaimed. "I couldn't put my finger on it."

"Am I right, Nyxe?" Gwen asked.

"Something like that," Nyxe said, both occupied outfits speaking in unison. Thanks to you two, my body can exist beyond the boundaries of the primary outfit, but the extension has made me a bit weaker than I expected." Gwen gasped a little as she felt her butt lifted off the bed. Now the skirt around her plumped to its capacity, and she felt her hips and thighs wrapped in the same sensation as her upper half.

"Gwen...you're all curvy!" Bridget said. Fingertips swept over her breasts after she said it. "Ooh!"

"Now let's have a look at both of you, shall we?" Nyxe's voice said as the the two girls were walked in front of the full-length mirror. Bridget made cute, quiet little noises as the sensations over her tits continued.

"Ooh--hey, hey, come on," Bridget laughed, grabbing the tits of the button-down. She squeezed tight and although she could feel the pressure transferred to her own breasts inside the blouse, the incorporeal fingers beneath kept working her nipples. "Take it easy on those."

"Maybe I should occupy myself elsewhere?" Nyxe's voice asked. Bridget shuddered as she felt a single silky finger trace over her clit and gently down between her lips.

"Oooooh," Bridget purred. "That's--that's--" She looked over at Gwen, who was looking down at her own outfit as it seemed to shift itself over her tits and ass. The fabric had changed from its tight ballooning shape into a flowing container of viscous fluid. Gwen hopped up and down a little bit, and the curves in the clothes lagged behind by a second, jiggling before her when she stopped.

"Wow," Gwen said. "It feels like there's some weight to these curves now--but it's not uncomfortable weight or anything..." Gwen swung her torso side to side and watched the shirt's curves bounce back and forth. "So--you're going to leave them like this?" Gwen asked, turning back to Bridget when she made another squeak.

"Don't you like them?" Nyxe asked. "I'm sure your admirers will." Gwen laughed.

"I guess it'll be interesting to see the reactions when I walk around campus sporting triple D's," Gwen said, lifting the spread up and letting it fall again. She shuddered a little when she let go. "Uh--I felt it that time." Nyxe let out a low, sultry laugh from the blouse.

"Mm-hmm...me too," Nyxe responded. "Now, let's come up with a plan." Both girls turned toward their respective closets.

* * *

Tiffany and Anabel were finishing up an early dinner. A black and white maid's outfit complete with gloves, stockings, and flats walked into the dining room carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Are you finished, dear?" Ana asked Tiffany. Tiffany nodded. "You can leave the wine on the table," Ana said to the outfit, which bowed a little and put the bottle and glasses down. "I believe we're both finished here; you may clear the table." The maid's cap nodded slightly as the gloves began picking up plates.

"Ana, if you have the ability to do all this, why do you have an actual maid?" Tiffany asked. Ana's eyebrows raised for a moment as she pulled the cork out of the half-empty bottle.

"Two reasons, actually," Ana said. "First, it's not exactly healthy for me to go days on end without human interaction, which I tend to do when I'm writing," she said, pouring the wine into a glass, "and second, I'm not quite like you, my dear. It took me ages of practice to master these enchantments, and to leave them walking about all day would eventually tire me. Wine?"

"Thanks, but I'm not really a wine drinker," Tiffany said, smiling politely. Ana shrugged and corked the bottle again. "I wanted to ask, though--were you serious about asking me to move in?" Ana smiled.

"Sincerely," Ana said, "But only if you want to. As we've discovered, you have some incredible gifts, and I think it would be wise for you to put them to practice." The kitchen door opened again, and the maid's outfit returned. "In fact," Ana continued, looking at the maid's outfit, "come over here, please." The outfit obediently walked over. "You'll take your orders from miss Tiffany for now. Is that understood?" The maid's hat bobbed again. "Very good." The maid's outfit walked back over toward Tiffany and curtseyed before her.

"Um...thanks," Tiffany said to the maid outfit. "Go ahead and keep clearing the table." The maid's outfit bobbed again as the stockings bent at the knees, and the outfit went back to clearing the table. Ana sighed.

"Much better," Ana said, sipping her wine. "Now then, are you sure you won't have a glass of this? It's fruit wine--much sweeter than red or a white." Tiffany smirked.

"Alright," Tiffany smirked. "Just a little bit." With the command of the outfit off her shoulders, Ana narrowed her eyes at the wine bottle. The cork slowly pulled out and dropped on the table. Tiffany's eyes went wide. "Y--you're a telekinetic too?" Ana laughed.

"Just the tiniest little bit, dear. A parlor trick." Ana smirked back. "I've got to lift the bottle myself." She did, picking up the bottle and pouring wine into Tiffany's glass. When she was done, she stood up and brought the glass to Tiffany. "How would you feel about a little more practice?"

"You mean around here?" Tiffany asked, sipping the wine. "Hey, this isn't too bad."

"Told you," Ana said. "But no, not around here. We already know your capacity for magic is quite high. Instead of testing capacity--let's practice with a little control--somewhere with a little more foot traffic." Ana smiled at her as she sat back down at the table. The maid outfit came back out again, grabbing more dishes before returning to the kitchen.

'You mean out in public?" Tiffany asked.

"Certainly. You haven't been outside this house since you've discovered your abilities, have you?" Ana asked. Tiffany shook her head. "Well then, better for me to be with you the first time--especially given your extraordinary abilities. It's rather important you don't give yourself away." Tiffany looked hesitant.

"Anabel's right," Said the boots, marching into the dining room. "The best way for you to practice control is among distraction." The boots turned to Ana. "And I was curious, mistress, if--"

"Of course," Ana said. "We may need you to keep miss Tiffany under control like you did earlier today. Are you up to it?" The boots stood on their toes, bobbing at Ana.

"Absolutely," they replied.

"Excellent," Ana said, swishing wine around in her glass. "Then we should get ready to go to the mall."

"The MALL?" Tiffany asked.

"Not nervous, are you, dear?" Ana smiled, tilting the glass back and finishing it. "Between your familiar and I, we should be able to keep that energy of yours from getting out of control." She handed her glass to the maid outfit's glove, while the other grabbed the bottle of wine.

"Shall you require a refill?" The maid outfit asked Tiffany in a sweet, meek voice. Tiffany smiled and shook her head.

"No, this is all for me," Tiffany replied. The seemingly invisible maid nodded again and retreated to the kitchen.

"Alright, I'm going to change." Ana said, standing up. "Will you be ready to go?" Tiffany nodded as Anabel headed back toward the livingroom.

"You think I'm really going to be okay at the mall?" Tiffany asked the boots.

"Of course you will," they replied. "Come on, let's go," The continued, unzipping and placing themselves at her feet. "You'd be surprised how quickly the mistress changes." Tiffany giggled.

"Actually," she said, slipping her feet into the boots, "I probably wouldn't." The leather wrapped around her shins snugly. Tiffany watched as the zippers climbed to the tops of the cuffs, tickling her legs a little as they did.

"First things first," The boots said. "Charge your outfit." Tiffany looked confused. "The one you've got on, Tiff."

"But--"

"Do it," The boots commanded. "You won't be disappointed." Tiffany shrugged and held her hands in front of her, palms in. Her t-shirt and bra shifted over her chest a bit.

"Ooh!" Tiffany's own T-shirt said. "Hi there, honey." Tiffany gasped as her breasts perked up with the help of the bra.

"Did I hear something about us going to the mall?" The bra asked. "I love the mall!" Tiffany's eyes went wide as she was stood up by her magically imbued clothing.

"Take it easy, ladies," The boots said to the other items. "Your lifegiver isn't quite used to this yet. Now Tiffany, the jeans as well." Tiffany looked down at her own body. "Go ahead, girl." Tiffany held her hands to her jeans heard a squeal.

"Thanks, baby!" Tiffany felt something grab her ass. Tiffany reached behind her and grabbed her own posterior in response. She heard a giggle that seemed to vibrate her hips. "Are we going somewhere?" Tiffany felt overwhelmed by the voices coming from all over her body.

"We are," replied the boots, "but you're all to stay quiet for a while. Tiffany needs to concentrate for now." Tiffany smiled. "Don't be shy now, Tiffany. We're all at your service. Isn't that right, girls?" A chorus of affirmitive answers followed. Tiffany laughed.

"We're going to the mall, everybody," Tiffany said. "I can't let you guys be talking in front of people, but if you'd like to do my walking for me, you can--" Tiffany's left foot stepped forward without her input, and the right followed. Her clothes led her toward the livingroom. Tiffany looked down at her own body moving confidently on its own. "Good, that's good!"

Tiffany said, going through the door.

Upstairs, one of Anabel's leather skirts shimmied over her butt and zipped.

"Special occasion, mistress?" The skirt asked. Ana nodded.

"I have a student," Ana replied. "Now keep yourself nice and tight--I don't mind attracting attention as long as it's for the right reasons," Ana said, biting her lip. The leather skirt went taut around her waist and hips, making her shape more evident. "Very nice. That will be all," she said, snapping her fingers. A pair of black pumps strutted out of her closet.

"Hello mistress," the pumps said. Ana stepped into them.

"Hello, my darlings. Let's go, shall we?" Ana headed out the door and downstairs, letting her shiny pumps lead her. Tiffany was downstairs, rubbing her hands over the stomach of the tee and front of her jeans, giggling. "There's plenty of time for that later, girls," Ana chided. "I see you've already shown her the benefit of charging what she's wearing," She smiled, looking at the boots.

"I thought it a good start," The boots replied. "Shall we, Tiffany?" Tiffany looked at Ana, smiling.

"Ready when you are," She said with confidence.

On the short ride, Ana explained the theory of subtlety--of control using the lightest touch. At the mall, theory would become practice, and Tiffany's familiar would see to it that her cascading hunger for magic use would be kept under control.

When she and Ana entered, Tiffany marveled at how her clothing kept her in pace with Ana without any direction. She got used to keeping her joints fluid and allowing her tee and jeans to carry her through the mall. To everyone else, she was simply walking.

"I'd like to get some perfume," Ana said, turning to her as they headed toward one of the larger department stores. "That should provide you with the perfect first opportunity."

"To do what?" Tiffany asked.

"You'll see," Ana smiled mischeviously. Once inside, they headed to the perfume counter. A 30-something redhead approached immediately, hoping to make a sale to her sharply-dressed customer.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” She smiled, showing a set of pearly whites fit for retail. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Well, I know what I'd like,” Ana said, “But I believe the young lady is looking for something that would suit her.” The clerk's eyes lit up. This one was going to be easy.

“I'm sure we have something you'll love,” The clerk beamed at Tiffany. “Feel free to browse the samples here while I collect some more.” She turned to Ana. “And for you?”

“Cappadocia,” Ana said. “The gift box set, if you have it.” The clerk nodded enthusiastically. Gift box set! Large bottle! This one was here to spend.

“Excellent choice, ma'am. Excuse me just one second and I'll be back with thhAT!” As she was turning around, the redhead's eyes bulged. She was swung around by her skirtsuit and nudged forward a second later, down the narrow aisle behind the counter. She wasn't sure how it happened, (had she tripped?) but she regained her composure and headed toward the high shelves of perfume a few yards behind her. She couldn't let her own clumsiness ruin what was going to be an easy and expensive purchase.

“You saw that, right?” Ana whispered to Tiffany, who gave her an incredulous look. “Good, keep watching.” Out of earshot but still visible, the clerk reached up to the highest shelf to get Ana's perfume set. As she did, her tweed skirt lifted itself at the rear, causing her to quickly turn and stop the offender. Of course, there wasn't one. Ana gently kneed Tiffany's leg when she noticed the expression on the girl's face. “You've got to train yourself not to react.”

What the hell is wrong with me? The clerk smoothed out the material of her skirt, keeping one hand behind her as she reached for the perfume. She managed to grab the box right before she felt something circle lightly around her nipples. She let out a little gasp and pulled the perfume down, pressing her upper arms against her chest. The sensations were gone. Whatever, just grab the other sampler and stop freaking yourself out. She picked up a long sample case and carried it back over to Tiffany and Ana, recalibrating her smile before facing them.

“Your gift box set,” She said, placing it in front of Ana, “And here are some more samples for you to try, miss. Do you have a usual perfume?”

“Crystal Sea,” Tiffany shrugged, “but I'm kind of bored with it.” The clerk spent the next few minutes explaining the usual pretentious-sounding perfume names and allowing Tiffany to try each. By the time her olfactory senses were on overload, she ended up picking something called Lavender Grove. The clerk, of course, let her know what superb choice it was, and went back to the shelf to retrieve the full-sized bottle.

“Your turn,” Ana whispered. “Remember, subtle—and no reaction.”

Just as she did when the boots had taught her to animate what she couldn't see, Tiffany imagined the clerk's panties beneath her professional attire. The clerk bent down to a lower shelf to grab Tiffany's perfume just as the front of her panties bunched up and wiggled between her lips. She visibly shuddered, and couldn't stop her other hand from quickly reaching beneath her to pull the front of the suddenly ill-fitting underwear away to unsnag it. She bit her lip as she stood up, praying her customers didn't see the motion. When she headed back toward them with the perfume, both were smiling politely.

Thank god. The clerk had her retail face on again, despite the last 10 minutes. Just keep smiling. All you have to do is finish this sale. Then you can go to the bathroom and find out what the hell is up with this damn skirt. “Will that be all for you today, ladies?” She was SUPPOSED to ask if they were interested in any facial scrubs, skin products, bath salts, et cetera, but policy be damned. She knew that one more pussy-wrangling by her panties could cost her the two-hundred-odd dollars the pair had already racked up.

Ana didn't actually need more perfume, but the woman had kept her composure so well that she probably deserved the sale. Ana and Tiffany had both seen her hand go under the skirt, and since Ana wasn't expecting Tiffany to do any more then make the woman's blazer emulate a tap on the shoulder—she was rather impressed by both parties.

“That's all, thank you.” Ana charged the purchase and signed her receipt. When they were far enough away from the counter, Tiffany broke into a grin and laughed.

“You saw that, right?” Tiffany asked.

“Very effective,” Ana smiled at her. “Is there anywhere you'd like to go now?”

“There's a trendy little store I usually get clothes from on the second floor,” Tiffany said. “Mostly college students and stuff. It's normally pretty packed on a Saturday.”

“Splendid idea,” Ana replied. “Lead the way.” Tiffany smirked as her tight jeans turned her toward the escalator. She was used to letting her clothes be the ones to lead the way now. After she and Ana stepped onto the escalator, Tiffany felt something trace up the inside of her thighs, finishing with a firm squeeze on her ass.

“Your boots wanted to tell you 'well done',” Tiffany heard her t-shirt whisper near the collar, “but they thought it better to pass on the message through us.” Tiffany giggled.

“Thanks,” she said, nearly inaudibly. She made a chattering giggle when her jeans tightened around her ass again. The pressure moved toward the crack of her ass and through to the front of her crotch.

“Your jeans want to know why your panties weren't allowed to join in our fun,” The tee lifted her tits up and kneaded them slowly. “We think they're probably feeling left out.” Tiffany gripped the railing of the escalator as her t-shirt rubbed her tits and her jeans constricted around her thighs.

“Ok,” Tiffany shuddered quietly into her collar. “Okay—just ease up for a second.” She put her other hand on her hip, sliding her pointer finger just inside the waist of her jeans. As she sent magic energy into her panties, a voice sounded—a little louder than it should've.

“Oooh, she's wet!” The panties said, muffled by the jeans, but loud enough for Ana to hear. A chorus of shushing came from the best of Tiffany's ensemble. All went silent a second later, and the enchanted groping ceased for the moment. Tiffany turned around to look at Ana, who gave her a look and smiled.

“It's okay,” Ana leaned in to say. “I heard them, but luckily we're the only ones on this escalator. Everything under control?” Tiffany nodded.

“Yeah,” Tiffany replied. “Someone just wanted to join the party, but I think she gets the situation.” As Tiffany approached the top, the boots took aver again, stepping her off of the escalator and turning her toward the trendy boutique across the corridor. Tiffany's panties stuffed themselves between her ass cheeks abruptly, forcing a little noise out of her. “Hey,” she said, looking at Ana but speaking down into her collar a bit. “Tell the peach bandit to take it easy down there, would you?”

Ana laughed, knowing Tiffany wasn't speaking to her. “You're sure it's under control?” Tiffany rolled her eyes and nodded, smiling as her panties pulled out from between her and continued playing with her ass, toning it down to a pleasurable but inconspicuous level. “I'm thinking I'll be a little out of place in there with all those coeds,” Ana said. “Do you think you and the ladies can handle yourselves?

“Yeah,” Tiffany said with certainty, “but what should I do?” Ana's eyebrows went up.

“I'd imagine there are plenty of pretentious young men and women in there who deserve to by toyed with a little,” Ana grinned. “You'll know what to do.” Tiffany giggled. “I'm going over to the lingerie store to pick up a couple things. Meet me there when you're done.”

“Sure thing,” Tiffany said. “And I almost forgot, Ana—thanks for the perfume!”

“My pleasure, dear,” her glamorous trainer smirked. “Now go play. See you in a few minutes.”

Tiffany's boots stepped her toward the entrance of the store where she was greeted by a skinny blond.

“Welcome to Holmesdale and Conway,” the blond said, sounding bored and almost imposed-upon. Then she looked down at Tiffany's boots. “Oh wow—those are hot boots. Where'd you get them?”

“Gift,” Tiffany shrugged, walking by the girl. Music was playing obnoxiously loud, making Tiffany realize she could probably get away with quite a bit. She headed toward the left side of the store, reserved for the women's section. She pretended to paw through jeans as she carefully scoped the scene.

There were three store attendants on the guy's side—two girls and a guy. One of the girls was a shapely brunette, huge tits and painted-on jeans. Tiffany might not have noticed but for her obvious attention-whoring in front of a cute but boring-looking guy. If Tiffany didn't know any better, she'd think the other female was a black-haired clone of the greeter standing at the store entrance.

Tiffany held up a pair of jeans on a hanger, pretending to get a closer look as she watched the three in the background. The attention whore started jokingly booty-shaking to the overpowering music, which gave Tiffany a wonderful idea.

“Whatcha' think, Adam?” The brunette said, bouncing her ass up and down.

“I think you're shaking the wrong side of your body, Jeanette,” the black-haired girl mocked.

“You're just jealous you don't got this, Rachel,” The brunette responded, hopping herself backward in the other girl's direction. When she intended to stop, the stressed fabric in the seat of her jeans kept bouncing her backward. “Wha-wh-”

“Okay Rachel, we get--” The black-haired girl was cut off with the brunette bumping her ass against her. “Hey, enough! Watch what you're doing!” The guy started laughing.

“I'm—I'm not doing it!” The brunette said, grinding her curves against the hips of the other girl. “It's my--” Rachel moved out of the way, but Jeanette followed.

“Yeah, we get it. It's your huge freaking ass! Knock it off!” As the two continued bickering, Tiffany set her eyes on the guy. He was still laughing, but it subsided as he started paying closer attention to the brunette's tits, bouncing with her backward-hopping motion. He didn't notice when his belt started slithering from it's leather hoop.

“Take it easy,” Tiffany heard faintly next to her ear. “Let him go and pick up another pair of jeans.” Tiffany snapped out of it and started looking through the rack again as she was told. “Don't mean to spoil the fun, but message from below.”

The guy's belt ceased what little movement it had started without him noticing. The brunette was standing straight up again, incredulous.

“Seriously, Rachel, I like—I couldn't stop it!” The brunette apologized to the scowling girl, the situation no double exacerbated by the other girl's skinnier and less impressive frame.

“Yeah, I said I got it, Jeanette. You can't control your own booty,” the skinny girl said. “Hilarious.” The guy burst into laughter again. “Don't freaking encourage her, Adam.”

Tiffany had already whispered her thanks back to the shirt to pass on to her boots. She felt the cuffs of the boots twisting on her calves before starting to pull on her feet. She put the jeans down, and the boots walked her casually back out toward the entrance of the store. The two girls were still bickering as Adam watched Tiffany exit.

“I think that girl's in my American Lit. class,” he mentioned to no one listening. Rachel was busy unfairly lecturing Jeanette on taking her fun too far.

“That was fun,” Tiffany's shirt said as she walked across the corridor toward the lingerie shoppe. Tiffany smiled and shushed her shirt as she entered, careful of anyone in her proximity. She found Anabel looking through the racks of bras hanging against a wall. Anabel looked up as she approached.

“How'd it go?” Anabel held up a powder blue bra, then a forest green one.

“Green. The pastel is too cutesy for you,” Tiffany replied. “It was fun—but I needed a little reminder to hold me back.” Tiffany's boots squeezed her calves lightly at their mention.

“The woman setting up the mannequins in the window displays in front,” Ana whispered to Tiffany. “Don't mess with anything she's got on, but make her job a little more difficult than it should be.” Tiffany glanced at the woman, then back at Ana, who was holding up two more bras, one violet and one electric pink.

“Ooh, pink for sure,” Tiffany said. “I'm going to look at some bikinis.” She walked closer to the front of the store where the attendant, an attractive blond in a black blazer and knee skirt, was dressing the mannequins.

As she shuffled through a bin of panties, she shifted her eyes over to a finished mannequin for just a moment. The black lacy bra on the mannequin unhinged itself and slumped forward. Working on a second mannequin, the attendant noticed it out of the corner of her eye and stood up, letting out a “hmph” and a little sneer.

Never had that happen before, she thought. Must be a bad clasp. She walked over to the mannequin to inspect the clasp and found that it looked fine. She shrugged. When she fastened it again, though, her own bra unsnapped itself. She gasped and held her hands to her chest, turning around abruptly to see Tiffany more than a few yards away looking at panties. Couldn't have been. She slinked over behind a high rack to rehook her bra, then walked around to the front of the mannequin the make sure the bra was still fastened on it. Tiffany didn't need to look a second time to make the bra pop its clasp again. Instead of the bra simply slumping forward, though, the straps fell off the shoulders, making the bra fall to the ground. The attendant gasped audibly when it happened. Tiffany looked over at the attendant when she made the noise, thinking it better to react to the audible gasp of the woman.

“Doesn't want to stay on, I guess,” The woman laughed, looking at Tiffany, who acknowledged her with a polite smile and continued looking through the bikinis, picking out a few. The woman pulled the bra around the mannequins shoulders yet again and looked closely as the clasp. With her back turned to Tiffany, Tiff took the opportunity to glance at the second mannequin, dressed in a cream satin corset with royal blue trim. A tight black miniskirt was zipped over the bottom of the corset. As the attendant reclasped the bra of the first mannequin again, this time pulling on the side straps to assure herself it would stay in place. She didn't notice the hook-and-eye fasteners of the skirt on the mannequin next to her coming undone.

There. It's staying now. She walked around to the front once more to make sure it looked right. Just as she nodded approval, the miniskirt on the other mannequin unzipped itself and fell to the feet of the mannequin. She caught the motion out the the corner of her eye and turned to the now skirtless second mannequin. Now what the hell is this? The attendant turned around and looked for a mischievous kid or a coworker that apparently had nothing better to do. The closest person was still Tiffany, too far away and still looking busy picking out underwear. The attendant wanted to ask Tiffany if she'd seen anything, but she thought better of bothering a customer over something this silly. With a little more aggressive determination, she pulled up the miniskirt and zipped it, refastening the hook-and-eyes at the top. Just as she did, her own skirt unclasped itself in the back and unzipped.

“HEY!” She cried out, not able to hold herself back this time. She caught the skirt just before it sent itself sailing to the floor, and turned a 180 to see Tiffany again, who was playing her part perfectly in giving her a bewildered look. Oh my god, how did that just happen? She felt the blood rushing to her face as Tiffany went back to looking at panties. This time, her manager's eyes were glaring at her from behind the counter on the other side of the store. There's no way it could come undone by itself, and no way anyone could have done that quickly enough for me not to see them. She turned her back to a rack again and refastened her skirt, pulling on the sides just as she did the first mannequin's bra.

Tiffany headed back over to Ana, seeing the annoyed manager approaching the front of the store as she did.

* * *

Gwen and Bridget sat across from each other in the student union, getting more stares than usual from the guys walking by them. Nyxe silently and invisibly manipulated their bodies beneath the clothes, which still held shapes that were more exaggerated than the girls' own. A tall, clean-cut upperclassman wandered by the girls, smiling at Gwen as he walked by.

“See that one?” Gwen's eyes dreamily wandered as Nyxe gently kneaded her tits. “He was pretty cute.”

“Cute and impotent,” Nyxe said softly from both the collar of the tan blouse and Bridget's button down. Both girls giggled at the comment. “I'm a little disappointed by the selection actually,” she continued.

“Why's that?” Bridget let out a little shudder-laugh, gripping her bottle of water when Nyxe responded by tickling her clit for a second.

“Because she expected everyone on this campus to be perverts like us,” Gwen laughed. The two girls sipped at their drinks as a couple of sorority girls walked by the table. After they were out of earshot, Bridget turned her head to check them out.

“Not them?” Bridget turned back to Gwen. “Kappa Mu. Bet they're freaks.”

“It's not promiscuity I need,” Nyxe whispered back through both blouses again. “It's...” She went silent again as a girl walked by. Long black hair, tied back. Thick-rimmed glasses. attracting attention that would otherwise be on her body if she wore anything to show it off. Instead, she was clad in a droopy hoodie and pants 2 sizes too big. Her eyes were on the ground in front of her as she weaved between the empty tables and found a seat in another quiet corner of the union. “Her,” Nyxe hissed into both girls' ears. “I needher.”

“Wait, that hot mess that just walked by?” Bridget gave Gwen a skeptical look. “Miss frumpy?” Bridget let out a little noise as the back of her slacks wedged themselves in between her cheeks.

“Miss frumpy's holding onto something big,” Nyxe responded hungrily. “She's our third. Now listen, I've got a plan.”

As the two girls conspired with Nyxe, their miss frumpy, a girl named Sarah, already had her nose buried in a book while she ate a muffin. She was running derivatives in her head, ignoring the world around her like she ignored the powder keg of lust between her legs, hidden by modest clothes and an overactive mind.

“She might be here a while,” Gwen said, “Looks like she's reading.” Suddenly, Bridget stood up. When Gwen tried to follow, Nyxe's stockings and skirt held her in place.

“Just stay here,” Nyxe said. “Trust me, I doubt she'll hang out here any longer than it takes for her to finish eating.” Gwen felt on of her sleeves lift up, making her wave at Bridget.

“See you later, I guess,” Gwen shrugged, smiling at Bridget. Bridget giggled, her slacks carrying her away from the table.

“Later!” Bridget headed toward the doors of the Student Union as Gwen waited. As Bridget's outfit walked her back to the dorm room, Nyxe explained her plan, finding plenty of opportunity when Bridget wasn't in close proximity with the few other students hanging out on campus on Saturday afternoon.

“There's something in your room I need you to get for me,” Nyxe whispered from her collar. “I'm going to speed you up a bit, so relax your muscles. There's no need for you to exert any effort.” Bridget looked around. No one near her at all.

“Okay, that's—whoa!” It was just a brisk walk, but Nyxe was right--Bridget didn't have to do anything. She could feel Nyxe in her socks, shoes and slacks, moving her forward gracefully along the concrete path toward the co-ed Booker hall. Bridget closed her eyes and soaked up the other things Nyxe had going on in the spaces between her clothes and her body—what felt like hands massaging her ass and a set of invisible fingers working her pussy.

“Mmm...that's right, babe, just trust me and relax. All I need right now is your body and your cooperation.” Nyxe went silent for a second as Bridget passed a guy that couldn't help but do a double-take when he passed her.

From what he saw, he could only imagine that the voluptuous girl that passed him was on something strong—it almost looked like she was in a kind of sleepwalking euphoria. He might have even asked her if she didn't look like she was in such a hurry.

“Now,” Nyxe continued, “We're going to your room to pick up a gift for the lucky girl I spotted in the union. There's a pair of cute pink sneakers that I need you to grab, and we're going to leave her a nice little note with them. Understand?” Nyxe altered her pussy-play with Bridget to an emulated tongue, and the ingratiating shift forced a tiny delirious sound from Bridget, accompanied by an obedient nod. “That's the spirit. Keep following my lead like a good little girl and I'll be tying you up and spanking the fuck out of you by later this evening. Sound good?”

“Ngh...Mmm-hmmm,” Bridget responded, unable to find words any more complex to affirm her positive response. Her own black sneakers carried her into the dorm, and she opened her eyes again, trying to look as normal as possible despite her wet pussy and flushed cheeks.

“Okay. Let me handle this,” Nyxe whispered as Sarah packed up her book on the other side of the union. “We don't want to let her in on anything—I just need to know where her room is.” Gwen felt Nyxe tracing what felt like fingers around her soft, flat stomach. “I'm getting stronger again,” Nyxe tweaked both Gwen's nipples, causing the girl's eyes to bulge. “Between you, your roommate and this one, we're REALLY going to be able to have some fun.” Sarah was nearly out the set of doors on the other side of the union when Gwen's outfit sat her straight up in her seat. “Now.”

Gwen was stood up and walked toward the same set of doors at a calm pace to match Sarah own. Nyxe kept her prodding up as Gwen's outfit walked her forward, the tits of the blouse bulging in front of her as the skirt fluttered smoothly behind her. Gwen checked around her and spoke into her collar quietly like a secret agent when she saw everything was clear.

“Other side of campus, I think. Yarmouth Hall.” Gwen's response came in the form of two silky emulated hands grabbing her tits. She looked down at herself in surprise to see that the bouncy voluptuous shape of the blouse hadn't changed, despite what was going on beneath it.

“Don't worry about a thing, dear,” Nyxe rubbed her tits tenderly. “Leave everything to me.” Gwen puffed a sigh, and her outfit started walking her forward again.