A Treatise of Material Consciousness
A Treatise 3
- Details
- Category: A Treatise of Material Consciousness
- Published: 14 March 2019
- Written by Vestiphile
- Hits: 4503
The nearly floor-to-ceiling windows of Sean’s bedroom exposed most of the space to moonlight, including Sean himself in the bed. The strange form that came from the box was now floating over his bed--a ghostly enclosure suit filled to Sean’s athletic shape...complete with a telltale bulge at the translucent white crotch. It drifted over his body in the bed as his sheets began to caress him.
Sean smiled as he stretched out in bed, but his eyes never fluttered. His black satin sheets slid down over his chest, and the spandex suit landed on the other side of his bed, holding a dull white hand toward Sean’s bedroom door. It clicked open, and the enclosure suit slipped out, flying out into the hallway like a wraith. Sean let out a short moan, turning with the touch of his living sheets.
Now his dresser drawers were opening. As moonlight spilled on the clothes in the drawers, one of his hoodies danced off a hook on his closet door. The soft hoodie filled to a puffy shape and drifted across the room, taking a small mirror off the wall. Like Matt’s clothes, Sean’s belongings were resourceful, wasting no time in spreading the moonlight to everything they could.
Sean’s shiny black leather-look jacket sat up on the chair it was laid on, inflating and zipping. It hovered up to Sean’s closet door, opening it as the hoodie on the other side of the room held the mirror up to the moonlight.
A blue-white beam scattered and danced all over the inside of the tiny closet, hitting every item stuffed in the shallow space. By now, Sean’s underwear and t-shirt collection was coming to life and parading through the room, filling to his well-cut, defined form and moving confidently without anyone in them at all. Another two enclosure suits rose out of the cardboard box, as one of Sean’s secret kinks literally came to life. He could pass one off as a costume, but now his whole collection was flooded with the magical energy Matt had released.
Sean giggled under the caresses of his sheets, touching him with strong and delicate fingers alike. His cock was held aloft by gathered satin, stroking him with greater and greater force. Despite the supernatural attention he was receiving, Sean slept as his clothes rustled through the room, filled to his fit shape and met up with one another, forming outfits filled with broad-shouldered, invisible men.
A pair of lace up navy underwear rose out of one of his drawers, wiggling as they inflated to Sean’s strong, lean hips. The strings tied themselves together, tightening the briefs as they turned and bounced their ass against the fabric, slightly inflating it. There was a bulge in the front, filled with a formidable streamlined silhouette. The briefs leapt across Sean’s room, into a pair of half-filled skinny jeans. With the underwear inside, the jeans squeaked and inflated, surrounding every inch of an undoubtedly male form. A deep red tee with a white jolly roger emblem tucked into the jeans and swelled with a rippling invisible torso as a black leather belt wound through the belt loops. The short sleeves lifted skyward as the leather-look jacket sailed over the outfit. Black, lo-rise boots with navy blue socks slipped under the skinny jeans, and the outfit posed in front of the windows, soaking up the moonlight.
It turned back to Sean, panting in his bed as his sheets stroked him off. His outfit rocked its hips in the air, its tenting bulge growing as it watched Sean. The outfit reached out a leather sleeve to a shelf on the far wall, and the puffy hoodie obliged, shining the mirror on the shelf.
A pair of black gloves lifted off of it, inflating to strong, masculine hands that tightened their invisible fists inside the leather before sailing to the outfit.
The outfit was certainly Sean to the dotted ‘i’--confident, sexy, built like a laborer but graceful as a swan--except that there was no one occupying the outfit at all. As the black sleeve of the jacket beckoned to the leather gloves, they sailed straight to the crotch of the outfit’s jeans, one stroking the bulbous outline inside, the other reaching behind to grab the tight denim ass.
As this phantom voyeurism continued, a pair of Sean’s boxer briefs hovered over his head, bending their legs forward and stretching their ass. The soft, white thighs moved toward him, positioned on either side of his head as they approached.
The leather gloves quit their play with Sean’s assembled outfit, hovering over Sean’s bed. Each glove hovered over one of his wrists as the boxer briefs descended on him, placing their package right against his mouth.
Ever so slowly, the soft package pushed against his lips. A moment later, the crotch of the white boxer briefs swelled with emulated lips of their own, rising in subtle ridges from the pliable fibers in the bulge. The ridges pulled into a kind of mischievous smile and dove into Sean again, this time parting his lips with an insistent, cottony tongue.
Sean’s eyes blinked open. The moment it happened, the leather gloves found every one of his fingers with perfect timing. They slipped onto his hands and held them against the bed as Sean’s body flapped in panic.
He was hard--he realized that before anything else. He couldn’t see anything but a white blur, and something was thrust into his mouth--like a fabric tongue? He couldn’t tell if he was being kidnapped or raped.
His hands were held perfectly. He didn’t know who these people were, but they had gear. He couldn’t even move a finger. He wasn’t being hurt, but his whole face was smothered and his legs were pinned by the blanket--no doubt clamped on either side by two very strong people. But this gag…
“Muuuuhwahfuhwah!!” Sean tried to shout to the assailant stuffing this gag in his mouth. It was freaking him out even worse when he realized it felt almost alive--like something trying to slither against his own tongue. “Geeehhaaaffuuuffoffffaaameee!”
Sean’s sheets loosened for a moment. Thinking he felt his chance, he tried kicking at the blankets and doubling his body back over itself. As soon as he kicked up, though, the sheets bunched around him, almost as if they were being vacuum packed against him. When his satin sheet coiled around his half-erect cock--he realized there was something he was missing about this situation.
The white, muscular thighs of the boxer briefs relaxed, straightening themselves so their cuffs were flush with the bed. Now Sean’s smothered face was revealed, his gaze focusing on the white bulge at his mouth and nose and the rounded gold waistband straddling him.
He half-swallowed, now realizing that the oddity invading his mouth was the crotch of his own microfiber boxer briefs. He tried to turn his head and pull away. When he detached from the thing, he saw it--a delicate mouth formed from the stretched microfiber, eerily smiling at him.
“Wh--what the fuck is going on here?!” He shouted, trying to pull his hands out of the tight gloves. One of his arms sailed skyward in response, pulled by the glove. His own hand was held in front of him by the tight black leather, which turned his wrist to face him and closed every finger but one in a chiding wag.
His gleaming white underwear bounced off of him and sailed into the air, mimicking a strut as the tight cheeks of the boxer briefs sauntered out of his room. With his body still immobile, his eyes followed the haunted, walking underwear to the hall, where they disappeared around the corner.
When his gaze returned to the bedroom, his mind couldn’t process any of the sensory information. First, the outfit propped against his windowsill--his favorite jeans, his favorite t-shirt and leather-look jacket...the whole thing standing empty, looking over him as one of the long glossy jacket sleeves pointed directly at the bulge in the jeans, moving as if an invisible hand was gripping it. Next, and all around him, were ALL of his underwear--tank tops and boxer briefs, pouch bikinis and jockstraps. They were bobbing around the room, filled to shape as if possessed by well-hung ghosts. Then the sheets on his body, which weren’t being held by two, one, or any people. They were slithering over his body, holding him down and jerking him off.
He thought he heard laughter when his eyes were darting around the room, taking in the sights and sensations. One of his secret zentai suits rose at the foot of his bed, flopping its hands over the footboard and pulling itself up. It started out flat but quickly inflated, articulating the fingers and filling the arms with tight, detailed biceps and shoulders. The shiny black torso became a masterpiece of pecs, abs, and powerful back muscles, twisting in the moonlight and showing off to Sean. It started crawling up his bed, the amorphous head of the suit seeming to stare at him.
Now his leather gloves finally moved again, flipping his palms atop his own pecs and forcing Sean to massage himself. The animated leather clamped and squeezed, teasing a nipple now and then and breaking Sean’s shocked silence by forcing a laugh.
It was as if his whole room had come to life. Some of his shoes and socks were marching out of the room all by themselves. Some of his fleet of underwear followed, while others stayed behind, either to join more animated clothes flying from the drawers, or to sneak a bounce against the cute, wide-eyed guy held to the bed.
“Wh-what are you? What are you doing to me?” Sean could barely get the words out.
“You’ve got some idea...don’t you, tough guy?” The voice came from in front of him--but from who? Sean’s sheets pulled away, revealing his eight-inch tower in all its glory. The shiny black zentai suit quickly took the sheet’s place, straddling Sean’s legs with its own spandex bulge, which now gently pressed against the underside of Sean’s balls.
One of the leather gloves reached down and hungrily grabbed Sean’s rigid cock, squeezing and stroking it. Sean quivered, taking in the delicious feeling of well-conditioned leather against his dick. He looked down at the impossible sight. It was the glove stroking his manhood; by now he’d let his arm and hand muscles go loose--inactive. These clothes were controlling him--stronger than him.
There was something maddening about these soft, sensual things with such intense strength.
“Lay back.” The soft voice came from the perfectly elliptical head right in front of him--the shiny black zentai suit. It was so human and so alien--anonymous and intimate. His own clothes were coming onto him, and it was turning him on.
“Wh-wh…” The leather gloves now leapt to the shiny black torso, wrapping Sean’s hands around the zentai suit and pulling it closer. Now the suit was straddling his midsection, and the suit’s glossy ass hovered over Sean’s dick, wagging its ass against the topside of his pulsing erection.
“Matt’s going to be down in a second--but I just want to feel your body on the outside...just once.” Sean gasped as the powerful hands of the zentai suit stroked his arms and shoulders, massaging and admiring them. One of the glossy hands reached back and stroked the underside of Sean’s steel-hard cock, pushing it against the suit’s inflating ass as it humped him.
The amorphous shiny face pressed against his own. Sean’s jaw slacked and his eyes closed, not knowing what to expect. As he felt the glossy plane of the face change, though--he felt the same sensation as earlier--some intruder trying to find its way into his mouth. He went with it this time, opening his eyes and seeing the face take shape--cheekbones, a nose, the outline of the eyes’ orbitals--but then highly detailed lips and some manner of tongue.
How? Sean asked in his mind as he made out with the suit. How is any of this possible?
“This is nothing, boytoy…” Said the exhibitionist outfit leaning on the sill, responding to Sean’s own thoughts. “When Matt gets here, the party’s really going to start.”
The zentai head retreated from Sean, licking its lips with a magical fabric tongue before the super-stretched fabric relaxed to a simple pair of shapely ridges for lips. The whole suit rose off of him, waving as it sailed out into the hall.
“Matt…?” Sean muttered, trying desperately to understand what was going on. “What does all this have to do with Matt?”
To be continued...