It had been a week since Victoria, an introverted blonde, arrived at Yellowstone. Arriving with her few close friends and classmates for her photography class’ trip, everyone was asked to capture the views and landscapes around them. The student who would take the best shot of any view would receive a $500 cash prize from the school. It was the last evening of the trip. The weather was cool, with stars just beginning to shine in the sky. While she finished photographing the hills around them, she discovered a small, glistening, beautiful cavern while everyone was going back to the bus. Intrigued for another shot, she grinned at the thought of getting the prize of shooting the best picture for the class that year. She looked around before getting close to it. She neared the cavern and peered inside.

Inside, it was dark, but with a small light illuminating the bottom.  It looked beautiful, like a galactic starry view reflecting on the walls. It wasn’t large enough for her to climb through, but she could reach her arm in there without any struggles. She grunted and snapped a shot of the cavern from the top and eagerly waited for the picture to develop. Standing up and squinting at the film, she discovered that her camera didn’t pick up on the light, and the picture was too dark to notice anything. Disappointed, she went back down for another shot but saw that the cavern was much brighter on the inside. Confused, she peered inside and saw a glistening yellow crystal sitting on the bottom. She took another picture and waited for the picture to develop, again. This time, her camera seemingly wouldn’t turn on.

She slapped the side of it and tried inserting a new battery to no avail. Pissed off, she holstered the camera on her waist and looked around for anyone that could be stealing her potential prize-winning photo. She crouches and looks into the cavern again, seeing the illuminating crystal. If her camera wouldn’t work, she wouldn’t let anyone else take the photo, fearing that the prize would be sacrificed. She wanted to take a souvenir for the road anyway, so she reached for the glowing crystal and grabbed it.

When she felt the hard, warm crystal in her hand, she raised it up to her face to inspect it. It dimmed slightly and seemed to pulse with light. She had never seen anything like this, and wanted to show her teacher on the bus. That was, until the crystal shattered in her hand and a mist emanated from it. Surprised, she dropped the crystal fragments while the mist hovered into her chest. A faint glow came from the mist before she saw it vanish into thin air, around her body.

Confused, Victoria looked down at her chest and looked at the now dull fragments of the crystal. She scoffed and turned around.

“It was a stupid shot anyway.” she mumbled to herself, walking to the bus. Victoria was now on her way back home to Chicago.

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It started with small things.

Finding objects in odd places in the morning, seeing things move in the corner of her eye, and hearing minor noises around the house. Victoria had never believed in ghosts, and brushed these off as coincidences.

About two weeks after the trip, the “coincidences” occurred more often, and were stranger.

She’d hear things drop, find herself in articles of clothing she wouldn’t remember putting on the night prior, and would trip over objects around her house; almost as if the objects were placed there for that reason. It didn’t make any sense either, as she lived alone in her house and no one else had a key.

Questioning her sanity, she often avoided her house to avoid being spooked by the occurrences going on. However, they even seemed to also happen at work and during her classes.

16 days after her return from the trip, she sat in class taking notes while the professor droned on about cinematic panning. She began to zone out, and didn’t pay attention to the professor. She daydreamed about her planned vacation to Miami when the semester ended.

When she heard the bell ring, she snapped out of it and began to pack her things. She put away her laptop, folder, and pens before pausing when she saw her notebook.

The open page she had laying on her desk was filled to the very end with incredibly detailed notes regarding cinematic panning, lighting effects, film theory, and types of camera shots. It wasn’t written in her handwriting, but written in a almost perfect style, like it was typed. After looking on the next page, she saw doodles mimicking the teacher and nonsensical lines swirling around the page.

Gawking at the notebook, her professor approached her.

“Mrs. DeLaney, can I help you?” he asked.

She quickly looked up and grabbed her notebook. The entire class had already left.

“Yes, err no... I was just going.” she blurts.

“Okay, well, let me know if you need help with anything.” he said with a nod.

She nodded back at him and hurriedly rushed out of the classroom with her belongings. The coincidences weren’t coincidences. Something was going on.

She drove home thinking about everything happening lately. It didn’t make sense. All of these events had just started in the last two weeks, she figured. Trying to think of the first time something happened, she noticed something in the corner of her eye, again.

Keeping her hands on the wheel and peering to the right, she observed her glove floating.

A floating, grey cloth glove. Filled to proportions and hovering above the passenger seat, wiggling its fingers in mid air towards the window, like a animal getting used to moving for the first time. Silence. No strings, no way this thing could be suspended in the air without some sort of supernatural ability.

Confirming her fear that something was indeed moving in the corner of her eye, Victoria screamed, and attempted to slam on her brakes. Nothing. The pedal refused to go down, and it seemed the accelerator went down instead. She slammed her foot on the brake multiple times, to the same fate. Her car accelerated faster, and she worriedly gripped the wheel, to find that the wheel wouldn’t budge, either. It seemed to steer itself. She heard the doors lock and didn’t bother trying to get out of the car. The car drove correctly and stayed in its lane, and even turned on its turn signal when turning onto the expressway.

Victoria was now in despair. She knew that something was up. She now knew those weren’t coincidences. She knew that something was controlling her car and the glove, but she couldn’t find out what it was.

She began to cry, out of options of reasonable extents. The glove seemed to react to her sobbing, reaching out to her and caressing her cheek. Victoria pulled her face away while the glove stroked her cheek. It continued rubbing her face and wiping her tears while the car slowed down, pulling itself onto a familiar backroad Victoria took home daily from classes.

“I-I don’t know what’s happening, but please don’t hurt me.” Victoria sobbed.

Nothing seemed to happen for a while, before her seatbelt reached itself over her and locked her in her seat, which Victoria forgot to do when she left.

She heard her backpack unzip and saw her university sweater crawl out of it. It filled to Victoria’s proportions and joined the glove, which left Victoria’s face. The other glove also came out of the glove box and both met at the sleeve ends of the sweater. The trio hovered to the backseat and pressed against the passenger rear door’s glass, like a child looking out of one. Victoria looked at them for a second before realizing the car was pulling into her driveway. The doors and seatbelt latch clicked open, and as soon as she heard it, she opened the door and bolted from her car.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw the sweater and gloves wriggle a bit in the car before collapsing and falling onto the seat, now seemingly lifeless.

She now focused on getting into her house, away from the sentient objects. She fumbled for her keys before realizing she left her purse in the car. Looking back again, she stood and contemplated running back to the car to grab it.

She decided that it was worth it. Running back over to her car, she opened the passenger door and snatched her purse before her sweater quickly filled up and bear-hugged her, dragging her into the car.

Victoria screamed into the clothing, only to be muffled by it. She struggled to break free and did, or so she thought. The sweater was pushed against one of the back doors by her feet, while the gloves remained on her back, clenching her shirt. She tried to reach for them, but couldn’t reach the evasive gloves. They dodged and weaved, until eventually jumping onto her breasts.

Rapidly massaging and rubbing her D-cup breasts, the gloves greedily clenched her boobs while she struggled. She moaned but still fought back against the horny gloves until she grabbed both and yanked them off with all her might.

She threw the gloves on the floor and climbed back to the front and out of the car. The gloves followed, crawling on all five fingers on each glove. She outran them easily and, again, they collapsed.

She observed them collapse and reached into her purse and snagged her keys. Shoving them into the lock, she ran inside and slammed the door, her back to it. She closed her eyes and sat down.

Deep, heavy breaths. What just happened? Why did these things come to life? Why did her car drive her home? How did it know where she lived? Why did the sweater grab her? Why did her gloves massage her breasts? Why did she like it?

She opened her eyes and thought about her next move. She stood up, unsteady from what just happened. She walked to her office room and sat at her desk, logging into her computer. She needed answers.

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An hour had passed. Victoria had searched dozens of pages regarding sentient objects. She found some horror stories about them, some debunking theories about them, and even some erotic stories about them. She brushed over all of these before stumbling across a Wiki page named “Unwitting Telekinesis.” The page was old, last updated in the late nineties and looked outdated. She looked through the page before stopping at a body paragraph about the history of the telekinesis.

“Whenever one was unfortunate enough to encounter these crystals and break them, they would be cursed with a telekinesis ability. While sounding like a benefit, the curse could not be controlled by the victim. The name “unwitting telekinesis” was donned as the curse as it was, indeed telekinesis that occurred without the host’s consent.”

She focused on the article now, as it seemed that what it had written reflected her own experiences.

“The telekinesis begins to take effect days after the crystal encounter. Telekinetic episodes happen at random, affecting objects in the space around the host. Ambient, constant telekinesis can also occur. Steadily, the intensity of the telekinesis increases with time. The host of the telekinesis has a diameter of range which affects nearby objects; almost like a life bubble. The behavior of the affected objects vary, with no real definite intentions behind them. Sometimes the objects coax the host, with others attacking or groping the host. With time, the host can learn to control some of the telekinesis, but it is extremely difficult to master.”

Victoria gulped as she read the information. She looked for any “cures” or solutions for the problem, but the article never mentioned it once.

As she continued reading, she heard her closet slide open. Her eyes shot over to her closet, where she saw her old pink flip flops walking out, slapping against the ground. Inspecting them closer, she could even see the imprint her arches left on them when she wore them during the summer. They walked over to her ankles and nudged her converse she was wearing, like they wanted to be worn. Victoria was frozen, unsure of their intentions, but the converse reacted to it, using a shoelace to swat the flip flops away. The flip flops slapped the converse back, and they both battered at each other until the flip flops jumped back, out of reach of the converse. Her converse jumped towards them; pulling Victoria out of her office chair.

“W-what are you doing? HEY!” she yelled, while they still battled. Her legs were forcibly being drug across her bedroom while they fought. It all ended when Victoria exclaimed:

“STOP!”

Her converse paused, soles up to her wall while the damaged flip flops stood still. Victoria scrambled to sit up with her forearms on the ground.She exhaled, surprised that they obeyed her command.

“N-now, flip flops, go back into my closet.”

They seemed reluctant at first, but eventually shuffled back into the closet. Her converse shifted as if they looked at the flip flops.

“Converse, get off of my feet.”

Immediately, they loosened and pulled off of her feet. They stood by her ankles before walking up by her arms.

“What do you want?” she asked.

The laces on the converse raised up and made a shrugging movement. Victoria raised an eyebrow, stood up and flopped onto her bed, putting her face in her hands. This was going to be a mission to try to control.

She looked over the side of her bed and saw the converse toppled over, lifeless. Seems the telekinetic episode ended. Fearing another would happen again, she wanted to go to bed before it did.

Turning off the lights, closing the windows, and turning on her fan, she lay down on her bed and sighed. It made sense now, all of the things happening in her house were because of the crystal. It gave a sense of relief, but anxiety came over her as she thought of her future life with this curse.

While Victoria was thinking things over, one of her pillows began to puff up. She didn’t notice, as the pillow was on the opposite side of her bed. It wriggled and then remained still, not to alert her. It waited for a few minutes before Victoria was falling asleep, then began its move. Rising above the bed and sailing down by her thighs, it subtly touched her stomach area and traced around her crotch. Now pleasantly asleep, Victoria began to moan at the teasing. The pillow slowly began to grind on her cunt while she moaned more.

The bedsheet below Victoria began to wriggle as well, before a corner of it rose up from under the bed and created a tendril. The pillow lifted, allowing the tendril to subside her panties and penetrate. Thrusting slow at first, then beginning to rapidly increase in speed. The pillow dropped on her chest and pressed against her breasts.

Victoria moaned more and more, until eventually realizing that something was happening. She felt something pressing on her chest and something inside of her. She opened her eyes to meet darkness, then reached for her lamp switch. As soon as it turned on, her eyes met with the pillow kneading her D-cup breasts. She sat up and saw the bedsheet tendril fucking her greedily.

Looking at these two, Victoria laid back down and sighed.

“Might as well make the most out of this.”
she said while turning off the lamp.

“Faster!”