Trevor has spent all his life being quiet and reserved while secret desires cloud his mind. But all that changes once he finally receives the mail-order clothing that completes his baseball uniform for his recreational league. Will this new force overpower him and make him succumb to their will? Will he fight back and overcome this strange, new power? One thing’s for sure, Trevor’s never seen anything quite like this before.

I had that excited, happy feeling you get when you see a package sitting at your door--one you’ve waited for weeks to arrive because of backorder after backorder. A couple of months ago, I’d ordered some new baseball socks from this new company I found online. Every single review was a five-star review, but some of the language in the reviews didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Honestly, how could socks, of all things, change your life?

I plopped the box onto my coffee table, piercing the tape with my keys. I flipped up the flaps and grabbed the package from inside. Once I had it out, I noticed right away the big, bold wording on the opaque black plastic.

“PLEASE READ ALL INSTRUCTIONS COMPLETELY BEFORE FIRST USE.”

“Instructions?” I said aloud, laughing. “Step one: hold left sock. Step two: lift left foot. Step three: put sock on.” I tipped the box back in my direction and noticed a separate bag that simply said, “INSTRUCTIONS” on it in the same big bold lettering, although this packaging was clear, sitting at the bottom of the box.

I dropped the package holding the socks on my coffee table and instead went to read the instructions. I opened up the instructions package and slid them out. It was just one little pamphlet. The side I’d slid out first had big, “BEGIN HERE” lettering. Flipping it over, I noticed the other side was blank.

“Congratulations on the purchase of your new OMNI-Potential™ Sports Apparel. As you indicated at online checkout, this is your first purchase with the company and there are several things you should know about the care of your garments.”

“Oh, it’s the wash instructions,” I said. “Whatever.” I dropped the folded cardstock onto my table and tore open the package of socks, eager to check them out. I slid the socks out of their package, and they looked just like they did online: calf-length, white baseball socks with a green stripe and top-color to match my rec-league’s colors. Normally I wash everything I buy first--you never know what kind of chemicals and things companies use on their clothing--but I’d been waiting so long for these that I had to try them on.

I guess this is where I should say it: I’ve got a little thing for socks. OK, not just a little thing, I guess. More of a MAJOR thing. I’ve got like a collection--tons of pairs of socks in four separate drawers. I’ve got them for work, for casual usage, for sports and for pretty much anything else. You name the occasion and I’ve got a pair that’ll match it--except, I guess, for baseball socks.

I’d just joined a recreational league. They give us a form to buy the shirts pants and stirrups, but things like socks, spikes, gloves...that’s all up to us. I did some research for the best pair I could get, and...here we are.

I had to get them on my feet to see what they felt like.

I opened up the leg of one sock and slid my foot into it. It went on very smoothly, conforming and stretching to my leg without any resistance as I pulled it up. It was kinda strange--normally there’s a little bit of resistance when you put a sock on, and you have to kind of push your foot and leg into it.

I finished pulling it all the way up. It came up to just below my knee, fitting me perfectly as the online advertisement said it would. There wasn’t even any bunching or folding near my ankle, as I moved my leg around. I slid the other one on, and it went on just as easily and smooth as the other one did. There was no bunching or sliding down of the sock once I’d gotten it into place.

I decided to test them out a little. I got up and walked over to the foyer mirror so I could see what they looked like on me. I’d never had socks that fit me this well.

True to the online advertisement, they looked great in the mirror. I flexed a bit, moving my legs and feet around inside them, and I still couldn’t see any bunching or folding. It was like the fabric expanded and contracted to meet every bump of my legs and feet and movement I threw at it.

“I may just have to purchase some more,” I said to myself.

Suddenly, I felt them tense up on my legs, constricting around them. It freaked me out bad enough to knock me on my ass.

"Yahh! Hey, what's going on?" I yelled, landing on the floor and reaching down to pull off the socks. As springy as the material was before, I couldn’t even get my finger between the cuff of the sock and my leg. I tried to pull up on the fabric at the top but they seemed to be super-glued to my feet and legs.

“Holy shit, what the hell is going on here?” I said to the room, breathing faster as I started to panic. They kept getting tighter, and I kept trying to take them off.

Suddenly, it felt like a pair of hands grabbed each foot! I yelped now, feeling true panic. Unbelievably, it felt like there was a hand on each of my feet, and they were beginning to rub them. I tried to kick whatever it was away, but my legs were somehow held in place and forced back onto the floor to keep me from lifting my feet.

My socks loosened up a little, and I stared dumbfounded, watching as the fabric of my socks shifted around as if hands were massaging my feet. I was caught there, wondering if I was being held by the hands of a ghost, or a creature or…

My mind was grasping to make sense of reality. Just as I was trying to figure out what had a hold of my socks, they started to slide down my legs, taking themselves off my feet. It didn’t make any sense to me, and my animal reflexes took over as I tried desperately to get away from the strange moving fabric. I kept trying to reach down to my feet to yank the socks away from my skin, but they were already ahead of me.

Once they had taken themselves all the way off, they puffed out and filled as if being worn by an invisible me. They stood on the floor, facing me.

Fear overtook me. I felt like I was stuck in my place; I couldn’t move a muscle no matter how hard I tried. I noticed my socks were standing there facing me, wiggling their toes slightly, toying with me.

I was curious as to what happened, but I didn’t get long to think. I looked back at the baseball socks, and watched as one slowly put one foot in front of the other, walking towards me all by themselves.

“What the hell is happening here?” I yelled as I frantically backed up. I looked around my house, trying to see if someone was hiding and playing some kind of sick joke on me. But those socks...no strings or puppeteer on earth could make them do what I was seeing.

They flew up into the air, coming straight towards my face.

Much as I couldn’t comprehend what was going on, I wasn’t about to be attacked in my own home, let alone by a pair of socks. Just before they flew into my face, I reached up and grabbed each sock by its arch and tried to keep it away from me.

I couldn’t really reconcile what I was feeling. These things were hovering in the air, unattached to a body...but they were FEET, solid feet with what felt like tendons and muscles and...I felt myself go flush thinking about it.

I didn’t know how I felt. The socks were wiggling their toes like crazy, inches from my face while I had a hold of them, trying to wrestle them away.

Through some muscular feat of strength and will, I was able to throw the socks away from me. Or I just believed that--maybe they gave in for a second. Either way, I was able to stand up on my own, but there wasn’t time to celebrate my small victory.

Across the apartment, I looked down my hallway to see a couple of my work ties literally snaking along the floor. They were gracefully slithering towards me, but I wasn’t curious any longer--now that there was more than a pair of socks coming after me, my thoughts descended to primal fear as I searched for an escape.

I tried to move away so that I could escape out my front door, but one of my work ties flew through the air and wrapped itself around my right wrist, jerking my arm in the process. Another tie secured me in the same place, and the two were able to pull tight and steady against each other, effectively controlling my arm and dragging me toward the hallway. Once two more ties did the same to my left wrist, their task got even easier.

Everything was happening so quickly that I basically complied at this point, at least to some extent. There was a token resistance--I mean I was still being dragged, sort of. It was more an issue of being in socks myself--with my arms held, I couldn't really dig in or hold myself anywhere. Whatever these ties and socks wanted from me, I was going with them.

At the same time, though, my eyes were fixed on the hollow cotton feet, walking ahead of me toward my room. They were lively, pacing themselves a bit playfully. They hurried toward my room and then stopped, pivoting as if they were waiting for my ties to pull me in, or silently telling me to hurry up.

As I crossed the threshold into my bedroom, the socks leapt onto the bed, jumping up and down. My ties kept pulling me, but now the pull was a bit less urgent--angling me toward my bed. When they loosened their pull, I couldn't help but try to pull myself away again.

This time, the resistance wasn't limited to the loosening neckties coiled about my wrists. When I tried to pull away this time, it was like moving through syrup. Trying to figure out this strange new sensation, I made an attempt at swinging my elbows a bit, finding my arms moving slowly and with way more effort than it should've taken.

When I tried to lift a foot, however--something completely different. My foot shot right off the ground as if my sole had catapulted my leg from the floor. I stared slack-jawed as my lifted leg when I found I couldn't get it back on the floor again. It was like my pant leg had frozen in place, pulling itself and my leg up under me...which was the other thing. When it seized up, it felt like it was actually lifting the weight of my leg.

"Aw, come on..." I breathed the words to myself in a nervous hiss. "How--how is any of this even possible?" My leg was folded under me, and with my arms held by the ties, I couldn’t get leverage to push back down. I had what I thought was a brilliant idea: if I was being held by--something--why not test it out? Maybe I could unbalance it or push...whatever over.

With a split-second crouch on the leg still on the floor--much as I possibly could while being held in place, I leapt with my remaining leg and threw my weight sideways as hard as I could.

I let out a sound somewhere between a shudder and a whine when my other pant leg locked in place, leaving me hovering in the air. When I felt that fluttery feeling you get on a roller-coaster drop, I looked down and gasped a little again. My pant legs were holding my legs under me, leaving me three feet in the air...but my weight wasn’t exactly resting against them.

As if the force saw my realization, my body was spun a quarter turn--back to the empty air now, parallel with the bed. I howled when my legs were straightened out BY the pants...not that it hurt. It surprised the hell out of me, and I wondered when these haunted socks were going to clue me in as to what the hell was going on.

When my jeans popped open in front of me, I was convinced this force could read my mind. If that wasn’t the clue I was looking for, then the unzipping fly and the animated denim slipping itself over my ass certainly was.

My shirt flew up over my head, blocking me from watching my jeans slip off me. Now I was between whimpering and laughing--not really sure how to assess all of this. Something extremely powerful was obviously in my house, in my room, levitating me over my bed. That something just happened to strike when I opened my new socks, and that something obviously had the power to animate other things. Was it the socks? Was it in the socks?

My shirt’s armholes slipped easily over the ties, which twinned together to let the shirt slip off. Once my shirt and pants were off of my body, they sailed through the air toward my door. It almost looked as if an invisible me came together in them as they flew out, but they were around the corner before long--and my underwear had started moving.

I gasped when I felt something grab my ass, massaging it for a second before suddenly pulling themselves down, pulling me down toward the bed along with them. The ties wrapped themselves around my headboard with my arms spread out to each side. The underwear dropped my body so that my head landed squarely on my pillow.

I was restrained and completely helpless now, and at the mercy of my socks. They were waiting anxiously, standing on either side of my head. I turned my head from side to side to see them wiggling their toes furiously towards my face. They moved closer and rose up,  stepping lightly on my face. I tried to move my head away to escape from them, but no matter which way I turned, they had some side of my face open.

When I realized the futility of my flailing and felt the soft cotton prodding my playfully, I slowly let it happen. I opened my eyes slowly, watching cottony toes slip down my cheek while the other foot floated a couple inches away, waving its toes at me. I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

It looked and felt just like someone was wearing them. I could feel the articulation of invisible toes inside of them, and the firm feeling of a foot pressing into me. I noticed that they still retained the perfect shape of my feet and legs, even as they mashed themselves into me. Now it was starting to get harder. It wasn’t painful--just...of a different tone. More forceful. Soon both socks were at my face.

“Ok, stop!” I yelled at them, when I could get a second to actually move my mouth without fabric in front of it.

“Please, stop doing this!” I kept yelling. They didn’t stop though. They didn’t even seem like they cared or heard me. They just kept pushing themselves into my face, wiggling their toes in my nose and moving their arches around on my cheeks and pushing on my mouth.

“Help! Somebody help me!” I yelled again.

Suddenly, my new baseball socks stopped their assault on my face, and stepped down to stand on either side of me. I looked at each leg of the socks, which simply stood there. I tried to pull against my restrained arms, but I felt my ties tighten up, holding me in place.

Before long my baseball socks stepped up over my head, and I felt them wedge their toes and insteps underneath my head, propping it up slightly. My head was resting on the tops of the feet when they were done wiggling in. They flexed their feet and propped up my head, so that I was able to look around the room. One of the baseball socks rose on its toes, pivoting my head and turning it so I was looking at my dresser.

I watched in horror as a drawer slowly opened up. It held all my athletic socks.

“Please don’t do this,” I stared down the baseball socks, trying to reason with them. The drawer kept sliding open. Once it stopped, I noticed the cuff of one of my white Nike crew socks pop up.

It slowly rose up out of the drawer to so I could see the logo on the leg. It seemed like it looked around to the left and right before apparently noticing me. It bounced a couple times in the drawer, and then I saw another cuff of the same type of sock pop up to join the other. It looked around too, until it was nudged by the first sock, when both of them turned to me. They both flew into the air and start to drift towards me, though they weren’t filled out with invisible feet like the baseball socks behind me.

I started to struggle again, unsure of what these new items of clothing would do. My shirt and jeans simply flew out of the room, but these socks were hovering straight towards me. I started trying to pull my arms free and kick my legs out, bouncing up and down, trying to break free of my binds again.

Any slack that had been in my work ties promptly disappeared as they pulled as tight as they could. My upper body was motionless, spread by my betraying ties. Still able to kick my legs, I did so angrily as I watched more of my white Nike crew socks float out of my sock drawer. Even with my kicking, one pair flew over to my feet and managed to slide onto them, holding my legs still as they got situated on me.

“This is nuts, I must be dreaming,” I said out loud to my room. I shut my eyes tightly and opened them, still seeing the socks floating towards me. I kept shutting my eyes and opening them, hoping that they would just go away and I would wake up.

I was still held down by my ties, still propped up to look at an ever increasing amount of white Nike crew socks filling up the air around me as I was held down, helpless to fight against them and still made to look at what was happening by my new baseball socks. Then I realized I didn’t have to look--if I couldn’t see what was happening, maybe it wasn’t happening at all.

I shut my eyes tightly, and kept them shut this time.

At first, nothing happened. But then, ever so softly, I felt the soft cotton of my socks running over my body. It was many different points of touch, everywhere. Some of the touching I felt was a soft poke right into a specific spot on my body like my chest or abs.

Another poke on my foot, followed by the whole foot pressing itself into mine, wiggling its toes along my ankle. Another light drag across my thigh. I refused still to open my eyes to see what was going on. I felt pressure by the socks on my feet as my legs were spread wide apart.

I was lying on my bed spread-eagle now, and I felt what must have been a pair of socks, the fabric of invisible toes ever so lightly dragging up and down either side of my steadily growing cock, and it was driving me nuts. I then felt my head fall back onto my pillow as the baseball sock holding it up from underneath must have moved out from under it.

The baseball sock that had been holding up my head now lightly slapped my cheek. It didn’t hurt, but it was just demeaning coming from a sock, of all things. My eyes shot open and I lifted my head to look at it. The other baseball sock now pointed with its toes to what was happening at my cock.

I looked up and saw one of the pairs of my white Nike crews. They had filled out, just like my new baseball socks, to perfect replicas of my feet. My cock was sandwiched between their arches, and they were slowly lifting and lowering their feet while they hovered in midair. I was getting a ghostly footjob from my own socks brought to life. Other pairs were hovering nearby filled out to the same foot proportions of my own, lightly grazing and dragging themselves against me and pressing into my exposed skin all over; sending shivers up and down my body.

“How is all this possible?” I asked out loud. “What the fuck is going on here?”

I heard a rustling noise coming from outside my bedroom, down the hallway. I looked over towards my bedroom door to see my leather batting gloves fly into the room, holding a pad of paper and a pen.

“Oh hell, not my equipment too!?” I yelled at the room, unsure of who I was talking to.

One glove flew in front of my face, holding the pad of paper towards me while the other glove pointed the pen at some writing.

“You didn’t read the instructions, did you,” the writing on the pad said, in what I recognized as my own handwriting.

Oh. Shit.

No, I hadn’t read the full instructions. Again I remembered that this all began with the baseball socks’ arrival. I suddenly had an urge to want to know what the instructions said, and before I could say anything, one of my gloves flew out of the room. It returned a second later, holding the instructions in front of my face as if they could read my mind.

I tried to concentrate on what it said as I was fully hard now from the attention my cock was getting from my living socks and it was getting difficult to concentrate. I read the very next paragraph on the instruction sheet, and my heart sank.

Animation will occur once your garment has been worn. If you wish for animation of your new garment to be permanent, wear it first before washing. Once worn, a special chemical mixing with your own body oil will be activated which will allow the garment to know exactly what types of performance you wish to improve upon. If you wish for a ‘one time use’ effect, wash your garment first and then wear it as this will break down the bonding chemical present, priming it for a single performance (and leaving no metabolites).

CAUTION!

IF YOU CHOOSE TO USE THE ITEMS PERMANENTLY, FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS CAREFULLY. In its uncirculated state, the chemical on your garment is VERY reactive.

For permanent use, prepare with a rigid case--such as a footlocker or steamer trunk--and a large plastic bag. Wear the items for TEN SECONDS and promptly take them off, place them in the bag and lock them in the trunk.

When you hear motion, don’t panic! That’s just your natural oils interacting with the hyperkinetic smart-chemical on your OMNI-Potential™ items.

Once motion ceases, wash the items, and they’re ready for proper use!

WARNING: DO NOT WEAR FOR MORE THAN 10 SECONDS ON FIRST TIME USE!!!

Unmitigated by proper timing and usage, our chemical has the ability to aerosol from the items, drifting as a suspension in the air and affecting other items within the immediate vicinity of itself. These items’ animation will also be temporary or permanent depending on whether washing has taken place. All subsequent item motivation will recurse from its parent item. In the event of a temporary situation, animation will cease once the goals of the purchaser have been reached. In the event of a permanent situation, you’re welcome.

From all of us at OMNI-Potential™, we hope you find countless hours of enjoyment and increased performance from your product.

Animation to be permanent…

Do not wear for more than TEN seconds…

Affect other items…

“Subsequent item motivation will recurse from its parent item?!” I finally choked out aloud.

Shit. I thought of my habit of regularly washing everything I buy and wondered why I didn’t do the same this time. Why couldn’t I have read the full instructions!? Why did I have to like my damn socks so much!?

Why did it have to be socks, of all things, that I’d ordered first from this company and try on without washing!?

I watched as the glove holding the instructions dropped them on the floor. They both came together, rubbing their empty hands together in anticipation. My work ties finally loosened up on my arms, but it happened just as I felt the leather slide onto my hands.

Once the gloves were in place, my work ties unraveled themselves completely from my wrists, falling onto the floor. I tried to move my arms, but my gloves held them in place on my bed. I could only move them, I found out, when they wanted to move themselves. I could feel my socks working themselves on my cock, and my attention was brought back to it--rigid and not at all shy about what was happening.

I looked up and saw that my new baseball socks were hovering in the air right above my face again...and it was then that it hit me: this is going to be permanent. I didn’t wash them first. My new baseball socks are, for lack of a better term, “alive,” and could bring other items of clothing to life as well, evidenced in my other pairs of socks and gloves. I was powerless to do anything...and I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about that.

Based on their actions, they didn’t seem to want to hurt me. They’d been somewhat playful in their movements towards me at first, and now that had turned...well, sexual. I was a little clearer on how I felt about that, but still--was I sure they weren’t going to get more demanding? I watched them still as they leapt to the footboard of my bed, balancing on it.

“Wh...What are you going to do?” I asked them hesitatingly. They didn’t answer. Instead, I heard slow footsteps on the hardwood floor of my hallway. I looked back up at the footboard to see the socks’ toes wiggling in anticipation. The sound got closer, reminding me of someone in cleats--clacking and ticking as they neared my bedroom.

I sat up slightly, and when a person should have entered the room, I didn’t see anyone. My baseball cleats were standing in my room, facing my bed. The baseball socks jumped up excitedly into the air and flew towards my cleats, which unlaced themselves and opened up, lifitng their tongues in order to allow the socks to slide inside them. Once my baseball socks slid snugly inside the cleats, I saw the cleats wiggle their toes slightly as the laces pulled tight, looping themselves back up and tying as the socks continued to wiggle around inside them.

The socks at my cock suddenly changed positions. They slid themselves down so that the toes were resting on either side of my cock and clamped tightly around it with their toes. Then they started to rub it up and down, faster than they had been doing. My head fell back onto the bed, temporarily lost in the moment of how good it felt. It had been so long since I’d had sex, and I couldn’t contain myself. I didn’t care that I was letting them know how good it felt to have some attention, even if it was from my socks, and even if they were doing it all by themselves.

In fact, my mind started wandering to other things. Longer socks. Thicker socks. I wondered if socks worn by other guys would take the shape of their feet instead. I was lost in the ideas I had; there were so many things I could try with the magical socks I’d cursed to spread their effects.

Not to be outdone, the socks that had slid onto my feet after flying out of the drawer started to move and press themselves along my soles. It felt like there were fingers and hands gripping my feet, poking them and massaging them, running phantom fingers up and down my arches and insteps. The other socks hovering nearby had now fully taken on the shape of my feet, no doubt experiencing the full effect of the spreading chemical. They started teasing me elsewhere, running their toes up and down my legs, arms, chest, abs...basically everywhere.

I was getting more and more turned on by my socks come to life. This all just felt so good. It was so controlled and methodical. It was like they knew just where, when and how to push and touch on my body, and I was quickly losing myself in the sensations I was feeling. I stopped wondering how all this was possible, and simply decided to start enjoying myself. After all, if this was permanent, it didn’t make much sense anymore to fight it. It wasn’t like they were doing me any harm. Quite the opposite really.

“That’s incredible,” I said aloud now, showing my appreciation openly. My cock was standing straight up, held between the arches of two cottony hollow feet. My feet legs and arms were being massaged, and now my batting gloves joined in. They moved my hands onto my chest forcing my own hands to rub it and pinch my nipples, sending more shivers across my body. “If this is permanent,” I thought to myself, “I could get used to this.”

It was as if all they needed was permission. My gloves slid themselves off my hands, and my hands and arms were free to do as I pleased. The gloves didn’t stop what they had been doing though, continuing to rub my chest and my pecs, pinching my nipples and sliding over my body. I reached down and grabbed the leg section of each of the socks at my cock, and felt the familiar feel of legs inside them as I rubbed my fingers along the leg ribbing. I pulled them forward so they again had their arches on either side of my cock as I bucked my hips into the air, forcing my cock up and down against their arches.

I still wasn’t sure what my baseball socks were doing wearing my cleats, but I was soon to find out. They jumped up onto the bed, one on each side of my head. I looked at them nervously, wondering what they were going to do. I watched as they hovered up into the air, just above my face. I looked over at one of the cleats and watched as it slowly loosened up its laces, untying itself. It loosened itself so the sock could slide out once more.

As soon as my baseball sock was free of my cleat it made a beeline for my nose, and started to really grind itself into my face. I knew then what it was doing inside my shoe. It was building up the smell from inside the cleat onto it, so that I could smell it once the shoe came off.

For some odd reason, it smelled good. Maybe it was all the attention my Nike socks had been paying to my cock, or the feeling of my leather gloves rubbing themselves on my body, or maybe it was how horny I had become because of it--but once my smelly baseball sock made contact with my face, it was as if every nerve inside my body went off at the same time. I let out a cry of pleasure and humped my socks on my cock faster.

The other baseball sock inside my cleat tapped me on my forehead as if to say, "You know there's more where that came from, right?" I grabbed my other cleat with my sock inside of it that was hovering nearby and started to massage it through the shoe. It really seemed to enjoy this and I could feel it as it started to wiggle around faster inside my cleat. I could tell it really wanted at my face, so I started to undo the laces.

I must not have been moving fast enough, because the laces decided to fly open all by themselves. I watched the magic happen inches from my face--the laces slithering away from each other and the cleat yawning open again. Once the cleat loosened itself up enough, the sock slipped right out of it, going right for my face and rubbing itself into my nose like there was no tomorrow. My cleats must have decided that they'd had enough fun for one night--either that or they went to find wherever my outfit went off to. Either way, they marched right back out of the room.

In the meantime, I put one hand on each of my socks rubbing my face, and started to rub them back. All this time, the socks on my cock were working their magic, slowly building me up. I started to really moan, humping my socks. They responded by rubbing me harder and pumping against me faster. The other Nike socks on my feet were really going at it too, really pressing in and giving me the best foot massage I'd ever had. The socks on my face, not to be outdone, were almost stomping on my face, forcing me to smell them, forcing themselves into my mouth where I would lick them up and down. I was in full abandon now, and I wanted them to know that I was loving this. I moaned and snorted, grabbing the strong, hollow ankles in the ribbed cotton and pulling them into my face, smelling the leather and sweat.

I was in heaven. I could feel it coming--the orgasm of my life. My socks must have been able to feel it too, the way they massaged, rubbed, kneaded and pressed into every part of my body. I started to squirm under their touch, my body tense and taut. Never would I ever have thought that I would be getting off on my socks, let alone by my socks, but this was incredible. They knew just where to touch and where to rub, and the sensations were too much for me to handle.

I could feel my muscles tighten in anticipation, and then it happened. Every muscle in my body contracted and relaxed over and over again. The orgasms I'd had in the past were nothing compared to the orgasm I received from my socks. I shot and shot ropes of cum onto the socks rubbing my cock, and they rubbed it all over themselves and massaged it back onto my flesh. They lubed my cock up and slid hungrily over it, drinking in and soaking up all I had to give.

As my orgasm subsided, the socks on my feet took themselves off and jumped back into my sock drawer. The socks working my cock hopped off the bed, collapsing on the floor as if I had just taken them off my feet and casually threw them onto the floor. My other pair, my new baseball socks--the ones that had been masterfully working my face and the first pair to scare the shit out of me by coming to life--balled themselves up and flew over to my athletic sock drawer. I watched as they fell into it. The drawer closed back up all by itself. My gloves also flew back down the hallway, where I heard a smack of leather onto the floor. They fell, I assumed, where I had last taken them off and dropped them.

I could feel myself getting sleepy, but I didn't want this to end. My eyes were too heavy to resist after an orgasm like that, though. Sleepiness set in fast, and soon I found myself passed out in my bed, dreaming about what happened.

I could tell it was morning by how bright it was, but I didn’t want to open my eyes yet. I wanted to revel in what I thought, upon waking up, was the most fantastic dream I had ever had...until I heard that sound.

“Whap. Whap. Whap,” It started up, slowly, and continued as I opened my eyes. I couldn’t believe what I saw.

It was my entire baseball uniform standing in front of me. White and green baseball cap, long sleeved-two colored tee, rolled up baseball pants, my new baseball socks I had bought and my cleats from the night before. It was standing there as if an invisible “me” was wearing it. I watched as it stood next to my bed facing me, my leather batting glove throwing a baseball into my mitt. Both the glove and the mitt floated in midair as if being worn by invisible arms.

My cock jumped involuntarily under the sheets, and my uniform noticed. The leather glove dropped the ball into the mitt, which hovered off of the other tight batting glove and set itself on my nightstand.

My outfit knelt half on my bed, where the batting gloves moved south, starting to rub a growing erection inside my baseball pants. My own cock was growing as I watched my empty uniform begin to pleasure itself.

It seemed my morning was just getting started...