LC Scenarios

Filling Their Shoes

I needed to get new brown dress shoes for work, and my girlfriend wanted to check out the boot clearances happening this time of year, so we both took a day off to do some shopping, making a massive footwear outlet one of our first stops.

Some guys dread shopping days--something I've never really understood. Where the world of the television sitcom dictates that the average guy will do all he can to avoid milling about malls and shops with his significant other, my ears heard the words "shoe shopping" and "boots" and perked up immediately (and if I'm being honest, my ears weren't the only thing that perked).

Weekday shopping is the best--particularly early in the day when it's nice outside. There's little rush or hustle, and you avoid having to dodge and weave through fields of other customers to find what you're looking for.

Despite the size of my feet, it didn't take me long to find my pair. Dress shoes are typically easier than sneakers--particularly when you live in a college town where a seasonal population of teenage and twenty-something dudes are all grabbing for the same rare pair of size-14s. Knowing my gf was going to be a while, I plodded around the hiking boots and sandals, glancing over to the women's section now and then.

There were mostly women customers here, which made sense. I saw a couple guys shopping with their significant others and one or two checking out sneakers, but for the most part there were women--a few coeds here, a couple well-dressed professional-looking women there, and some moms either pushing strollers or corralling kids.

I was just about to find my girlfriend to see what kind of goodies she'd found when I heard a shout, a kid's laughter and a woman's voice exclaiming in all sorts of colorful words. A second later, a woman walked past the aisle I was in, her young child in tow as she pulled him behind her and soon picked him up to walk even faster toward the door.

"Mommy, look! Dancing!" When I peeked out the aisle to see what the panic was, I heard more whoops, shrieks, and surprise from all around the store, accompanied by a sight that practically restored my sense of wonder to the same state as the kid pulled away by his panicking mother...

I watched a pair of red mules, wandering down the main aisle all on their own. It looked as if phantom feet were directing the empty footwear, taking light, delicate strides through the store and past my aisle.

There were voices shouting near the front of the store now, and when I peeked out of the aisle in the other direction, I watched as a few scared customers bolted out the door. I also saw that the red mules weren't at all isolated, because now a pair of women's sneakers were jogging around near the front of the store, glossy high-heels were jumping off a center display, and a pair of sky blue ladies' rain boots came into view, softly strutting up from behind me.

I dodged back into the aisle, my heart pounding. Fear didn't enter my mind for a second--but my neurons were still overheating trying to find an explanation for this crazy phenomenon. Of course my head recalled the "substitutiary locomotion" scene from Bedrooms and could it not?

Another look around the corner reconfirmed that I was standing in the middle of a massive shoe store whose stocked shelves were actively getting up and walking around all on their own.

Did magic somehow exist? Was an exotic nerve agent being pumped into the ducts? Was this some kind of extraterrestrial behavioral study?

When I looked behind me, back down the aisle of men's sneakers, still more pairs were peeking from their boxes and leaping out to the floor, walking right past me and into the main aisle. I saw a pair of tennis sneakers heading my way, and curiosity trumped confusion as I crouched down to get a better look.

That curiosity was immediately mirrored by the shoes, which seemed to stop and regard me for a second. Still in a hazy kind of wonder and disbelief at what I was seeing, I reached down and grabbed one of the laces, carefully pulling out the knot. When I let go, both laces raised themselves like snakes ready to strike, and I leaned back on my feet, worried that I provoked whatever was controlling them.

The laces gracefully swooped and dove under and over each other, pulling back into a perfectly hooped knot. I laughed a little as I stood again, watching the shoes walk by me and into the center aisle.

Just then, I snapped back to reality, realizing that my girlfriend was somewhere in here witnessing the same strange events. Anxious to find her, I crossed over into the center aisle, nearly tiptoeing as I did my best to avoid still more shoes and boots animated with a will all their own. Walking along the rows of womens' aisles, I spotted two co-eds against the racks just as I was, whispering to each other, and in another aisle, a woman of 40 or 45 glued to a bench and turned away from me, watching mules and heels apparently dancing with each other at the end of her aisle.

I reached the long boot display, watching a pair of knee-high leather boots strut down the thin edge of the fixture. The sight was so oddly appealing, the stride so inhumanly sexy that if I'd been alone, I probably would've stopped to enjoy it longer--but I needed to see what had become of my better half. I was pretty sure I didn't hear her screaming or see her running out the store with many of the others--so I had to find her.

And in that 2nd to last aisle in the back, I did--among the various women's shoes and boots in the clearance racks--which were coming to life like everything else.

"Oh god, there you are!" She exclaimed, perking up where she was seated atop a bench with her legs pulled up. There were a pair of matte black flats, cute high-shafted pink wellingtons and silver pumps standing near her, curious about this woman tightened to a ball on top of the bench. "These are what I picked out--but all the sudden people were running and screaming, and then they--"

"It's alright," I said, approaching as I looked down at the footwear standing around her. "Bizarre and--I mean, impossible for all I know--but I don't think they're gonna hurt anyone."

"Hurt anyone?!" She shouted. "The hell does that matter? They're WALKING on their own! What's going on here?" I shrugged.

"Damned if I know, but..." I got closer to the bench, crouching down in front of the shining rubbery wellingtons like I had the tennis shoes from earlier. "" I held out a hand to the pink boots, more confidently than before. They danced over to me, and one of the boots placed its shaft right in my hand, pointing a glossy toe at me as it seemed to stretch at the ankle.

My heart fluttered a bit, not expecting such friendly behavior. Gripping the pink shaft lightly with my fIngers, I reached my other hand out and stroked the front of the shaft down to the vamp, watching the rubber ankle and toes wiggle a bit as I did so. They didn't seem to mind my exploring fingertips, because the other boot stepped up and rubbed its shaft against the outside of my leg.

I gulped, looking up at my girlfriend--searching for approval more than reassurance. She looked at the pink boots with no shortage of mistrust, then back up to me.

"I think you're a little too excited about this," she said. She knew I held more than a little kink for footwear--it was one of my favorite gifts to give, and I was constantly encouraging her to wear heels or boots when we'd go out together. Taking her to a nice restaurant, for instance, was one of my not-so-subtle ways of getting her to wear her sexiest pairs.

"I'm sorry," I said, grinning like a fool. "I feel like a little kid. I mean, look," I motioned to the other pairs near her. "Magic."

The pink boot sliding against my leg like a happy cat shifted now, sliding its empty pink shaft around my knee and moving to the inside of my thigh. I trembled, embarrassed on the surface but refusing to move away from the enchanted rain boots. Even with no woman inside of them, my body was reacting to this slightly flirtatious advance.

"You should--uh--you oughta try one of those pairs on," my voice leaked out. "I bet that's what they're waiting for." She gave me a look like I was crazy and shook her head.

"You put a pair of them on," she said, pointing to the men's side. "Let's see if you're so brave."

I let go of the boot in my hand, and it joined its partner between my crouching legs. I bit my lip, reaching for the top of one of the shafts and feeling the cool rubber inside.

"And since you brought it up, I wonder what they're waiting for," she said, staring at the friendly pink boots engaging my attention. I shrugged, running my fingers down the outside of the cool rubber again.

"I dunno, but you have to admit they're kinda cute," I said. When she was about to respond, we both heard talking coming from the front of the store, calm but excited murmurs about the fantastical things taking place in this otherwise unassuming shop.

"You think it's safe to stand up?" She asked, her feet still pulled up on the bench. I stood, letting go of my new pink friends, who stepped back a bit, still facing me.

"I think it's a safe as it was 15 minutes ago," I admitted, looking down at the boots again, seeing all the way down into the empty shafts. One of them lifted into the air and slid the side of its shaft down my calf, curling its shiny toe under my pantleg and pulling up a bit. She stood up, avoiding the other pairs and reaching for her old sneakers as she looked at the wellys again.

"Look what you did--they're...they're actually flirting with you, aren't they?" Though I've been with her for a few years, I couldn't tell her expression. I don't want to say it was somewhere between curiosity and jealousy, but...

"It, kinda looks that way," I said, blushing as a vamp curled around the back up my ankle and slid back up my lower leg. Just as my girlfriend was about to put on one of her sneakers, it pulled away from her, making her squeak as she dropped it and took a step back.

"What the fuck?!" Now her own sneakers came to life and wandered right out of the aisle, joining more and more pairs of footwear that were striding around without humans in them. The other two pairs she tried on before the incident were still standing near her. "Look, I'm not putting either of you on! Go bug someone else!" Both pairs seemed to slump a little as they walked in the other direction.

"That wasn't nice," I said, smiling a bit. "Hey--don't go. She's just not used to you, that's all." They both perked again, making me chuckle. They stopped and turned around, but kept their distance.

"And you are?" She asked, incredulous. "Something I don't know about all this?" I put my hands up, trying to calm her.

"Look, you know me--I rescue bugs from indoors and put them outside."

"Bugs don't flirt with you...I hope," she cracked a momentary smile. "More importantly, bugs do things like breed, eat...LIVE..."

"They seem to have intelligence," I shrugged, "And at least basic feelings...I mean, they sulked when you told them off," I pointed to the other pairs. "I mean, I would err to at least being nice." She seemed to think about this, concluding with a deep breath. She looked at me and shook her head again, breaking a smile.

"I swear, any other guy but you would've been out that door and down the road by now."

"And they were," I said, gesturing toward the front of the store.

"Well," she turned to the other pairs, "I'm--" she swallowed, finding it difficult to talk to empty shoes, whatever their behavior. "If I did hurt your feelings, I'm sorry." The two pairs seemed to bob to her. "I don't really think I'm ready to wear something on my feet that's...alive." They both swayed back and forth a bit, making me bust out into laughter. "What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.

"I think maybe it means they get it. Yeah, girls?" Both pairs jumped up and bobbed to me, the silver pumps even running over to rub against my legs and feet just as the rain boots were. "Yeah," I squeaked, trying to control my thoughts. "Undoubtedly a yes." Now we heard laughter coming from the front of the store, and  a young female voice exclaiming what sounded like 'That's awesome!'

"Should we see what all the fuss is about?" She asked. I nodded, looking down at my plastic and rubber admirers, reluctant to ask them to stop.

"Uh, come on," I said gently, looking down at them. "We're going that way." The pink boots led the way, and she and I walked out of the aisle led and followed by an entourage of sale-price footwear. Toward the front of the store, a small group of women and one guy who couldn't have been 20 were all gathered about, some of them interacting with the living shoes, and some just watching with awe.

Immediately, the young guy's demeanor struck me as pretty level-headed for what was going on. He also seemed to be the only other male in the place. When he looked up at my gf and I, approaching from the clearance aisles, I gave him an acknowledgement nod. He returned it and looked around at our accompanying phantom footwear, giving just the hint of a smile.

He looked like a red-blooded male...I wondered if his mind was going in the same places mine was.

"It''s like walking through water a little bit..." Said the 40-something woman I saw from earlier. She was wearing a pair of knee-high tan suede boots, walking around the store in long, graceful strides. When she stopped and put her feet together, I swore I saw the suede rippling up the boot shafts. "Ohhh...and they seem, uh, quite fond of playing with my feet," she giggled. The two young co-eds, now seated on the sales counter, looked at each other like they had the same idea. One jumped down and walked right up to a pair of thigh-high leather boots. She looked back up at the older woman, who was still giggling at the strange massage of the suede. It seemed to steel her resolve.

"Could I...wear you?" The girl asked, blushing a little as she addressed the magical boots. Her friend put her hands to her mouth as she watched the first girl jump right in with a request. The zippers of the leather boots quivered before gently pulling themselves down, opening up the long shafts and making it easy for the girl to step inside. I looked to my girlfriend, who was actually smiling at this point. She shrugged at me, apparently enjoying the show.

"So--you two didn't run either?" Asked a woman about our age from behind the counter.

"I wasn't gonna leave him behind," My girlfriend said, slapping me on the back. I rolled my eyes. " we know what the story is with...all this?" Shaking heads all over the room. I focused on the young guy, who emphatically joined the others in doing the same.

"I don't know how it's happening, but they're quite gentle," the older woman said to my girlfriend before a warm smile spread across her face. She slowly closed her eyes, seeming to savor the sensations of the living suede. "And you won't believe this, but they give a wonderful foot massage..." Her tone seemed to convince the seated co-ed to join her friend, who'd already stepped into the long, sexy leather shafts of the thigh boots. They were carefully zipping themselves up as she looked down at herself in awe, the leather hugging against her tight skinny jeans. The second coed seemed to be looking around for something she was interested in.

"What's your take on this?" I asked the young guy, sitting up on a mostly empty display with a pair of shiny patent ankle boots nudging against his hip. He nervously laughed, reaching down and stroking the smooth material.

"Me? Uh...I dunno--" He shrugged. "Didn't really seem like anything to be threatened by."

"Unless they start kicking our asses or something," Another staff member said, sitting cross-legged up on the sales counter. "We wouldn't stand a chance."

"Well geez, don't give them any ideas," Her co-worker responded.

"They appear to be pretty...accomodating," I said, looking from the thigh-booted coed to the milf-ish 40-something, still taking in every sensation with slitted eyes and slightly cooing at her well-massaged feet and calves. "You sure you don't want to try a pair of these things on?" I said aside to my girlfriend, nudging her.

"Yeah, you'd like to see that, wouldn't you?" She said, raising an eyebrow at me. She looked around the floor at all the shoes and boots wandering around, watching each of them display a variety of personalities through their strides and...body language--for lack of an analagous term. Her eyes were drawn to the racks at the front of the store where all kinds of socks and stockings were hanging. "Here's a good question," She said, addressing the group now. "Why shoes and boots, but no socks?"

I watched the guy react to her question, looking at her almost mischievously and cocking his head. He craned his neck, looking back at the socks for a little while before turning back.

"Is it--maybe it's spreading?" The staff member atop the sales counter asked.

"Maybe, but they all seem content to hang out here with us," The other said, looking at the door. "If the idea is to spread, they're not trying too hard to get out of here."

"Maybe the idea is something else entirely," the guy said, giving a quick nod to the milf, who was strutting around the floor again. Her eyes were still closed, and she seemed to be almost in a trance-like state. "Maybe they just want what we want," he said.

"I think you're right," she said dreamily, looking over at the guy. She let out a low laugh as she opened her eyes and looked down at the tan boots again. "I've been dying for a good foot massage."

"Fuh...reak..." My girlfriend whispered to me. I gave her a light jab.

"But did you...tell them to do that?" I asked.

"When I put them on, they just kind of hugged my legs," She said, "I liked the feeling of it, though--and...maybe they just understood that. It went from there, and now--" She started strutting again, landing long deliberate strides on the berber floor. "--now they're even walking me around my themselves!"

"It's true," said the coed, now doing a sexy little saunter herself. "I can still direct my own legs, but when I just have the thought..." I watched the leather ripple up the long shafts, through her calves and up to her thighs. "It's really like they just know what you want."

My heart pounded harder now. Seeing the possibilities, I was desperately trying to keep my mind from wandering the wrong direction. Enchanted shoes. Magical, playful, sensual boots. How far did the idea of 'play' carry? What if I were to--

"Look, the socks!" My girlfriend said. Most of us looked over, and sure enough, now there were socks of every length tearing from their packages and leaping out to the ground, joining the other enchantments around the store. But as slender knee- and high- socks filled to the shape of feminine legs, some slender and some thick, my eyes were fixed on the back of the racks, where the stockings and hose lay.

I watched as pantyhose ripped out of their packaging, unrolling and stretching themselves before ballooning out to sexy, stacked proportions. A few pairs of leggings joined in as well, plumping to gorgeous shape and walking about.

"Wow..." I whispered, watching translucent legs and hips join the dancing socks on the sales floor. The guy on the display looked back at the racks and turned back to my girlfriend and I.

"Looks like they decided to join the party after all," He said, looking right at my girlfriend. She smiled back at him, shrugging and approaching a long pair of white cotton crew socks with stripes. She reached down and pulled at the top of an empty cuff, watching it stretch to her pull, but never losing the shape of the intangible leg inside.

"It's so bizarre," she said, looking at the guy on the display, "But there's something about it that's so..."

Hot, I thought. It's so fucking hot that I want nothing more than to--

The guy was staring at me now, and I didn't notice it until my girlfriend crossed his path again, this time following after a shapely pair of black pantyhose. He motioned to me, and I walked over, looking around at all the other women. My girlfriend and the two staff were marveling over the black stockings now, and she wasn't being timid about running her hands along the well-shaped backside of the hose. They started commenting on the variety of shapes the socks and hose were taking, beckoning to a few more to compare them. The enchanted clothes seemed happy to comply.

"They'll do whatever you want them to," He said aside to me, watching the coeds play and experiment with the boots and stockings. "She gets it," he motioned subtly to the milf, whose boots were now dancing her across from a similar pair of suede boots occupied by empty cream-colored leggings. "And you do, too. I know that look."

I stared at him, confused.

"You mean y--"

"Easy," he winked. "Don't blow it. I'm just caught up in this like everyone else," he smiled. It was bullshit, but I could tell from his demeanor that he wanted me to know that.

"You're making all this happen?" I whispered. He shook his head no while mouthing yes, confusing me further.

"Only the capacity for motion and the hunger for human reaction," he said. "Everything else is from you and these women." I was looking at him in disbelief, wondering what else this college-age kid could do.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Maybe I see a kindred spirit?" He shrugged. "The important part is that you shouldn't feel the need to hold back."

"But," I blushed. "But if you're the one who's con--"

"Like I said, not controlling them," he said. "Just giving them more engaging possibilities."

"So when you say hunger for human reaction..." I start to ask, trailing off. He smiles, shrugging.

"Pleasurable, curious, playful--which is why they mostly took interest in the people that didn't bolt out the door." I listened to him, watching the two groups of women--one of them including my girlfriend--play around with the enchanted garments and footwear. Neither group was really paying any attention to us.

"So--why the shortage of mens' stuff?" I ask.

"Two reasons," he said, watching a coed poke at a pair of opaque leggings while her friend in the thigh boots encouraged her to try them on. "First, women seem to have more of a relationship with their stuff than men do, if that makes sense." I nodded in agreement. "Second--look at what we wear--it's mostly function instead of flash. Pretty boring."

"Just two reasons?" I grin at him.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't like watch the pretty ones play with the effects of my spell," he shrugged. "Letting them act on human whims, though...obviously it occasionally goes some places I don't expect."

"Like where?" I ask him. He just stared at me for a while before sneering.

"You'll find out if you let it happen," he said. "They want what you want."

"So, like...if that nice-looking older woman in the suede wanted, like...more than a footrub?" He chuckled, stroking the ankle boots standing in his lap.

"You're not really asking about her," he grinned.

"I--" He cut me off, putting up his hands.

"Hey, your business. I don't need to know. Once I bring these things to life, they're on their own."

"For someone with power like this, you're pretty laid back--especially for your age."

"Fear is no fun to me," He admits, shaking his head. "You'd be surprised. It gets boring fast. Giving people an opportunity to see the impossible, though--it's interesting to see what they do with the situation." Wisdom brought on by unthinkable ran contrary to everything I knew about the word.

"Especially if they're hot?" I grinned.

"Well, come on," he shrugged. "I'm a decent guy, not a saint."

"So...let loose?" I ask. He nods slowly.

"Absolutely. Lead the way, man. From what I'm already seeing--I'd be surprised if they didn't follow."

"Um...thanks," I say.

"Not necessary, but you're welcome." He sighed. "Now run along before the girls suspect something." I nod to him, jumping off the display. A pair of knee-highs jumps up to take my place, and I wander over to the sales counter, where I watch my girlfriend tickling the underside of a pair of pink socks.

"That's so funny," a staff member said. "Look at them wiggle--it's like you're tickling real feet."

"I'm gonna go back to clearance," I say, my face already turning red. "I left my dress shoes back there when I found you."

"That's what you're thinking about right now?" My girlfriend said, laughing. "How do you know they're still in their box?" I shrugged.

"I'm just gonna look," I said.

As I headed back toward the clearance racks, my mind was racing. My discussion with the young guy on the display, apparently the source of this whole strange event...the flirty boots responding to my curiosity...the milf that was more than enjoying the caresses of suede boots with a mind all their own...the dirty possibilities I'd been blocking myself from considering were now spilling through like a dam at flood stage.

"Ohmigod...oh my gawwwd!" I heard behind me. When I turned around, I saw the two pairs that showed interest in me earlier, along with a few others walking with them. They were following me. But what caught my eye above was even more stunning.

The coed who'd been playing with the tight black opaque leggings was now wearing them under her khaki skirt. I stared, wide-eyed, as she sailed out from between two aisles in a trajectory that totally disregarded the pull of gravity. She touched down on the floor after a long, smooth arc that guided her slowly across the center aisle, taking off again and disappearing behind the mens' racks on the other side of the store.

"Tricia?" The other coed came from around the corner, still in the thigh-high boots. My girlfriend watched from her place at the sales counter as the legging-clad coed sailed back into the center aisle, this time remaining suspended two feet from the ground.

"Look at me! This is insane!" She cackled as she sailed higher into the air, clear over the racks of shoes toward the front of the store.

"Tricia, careful!" Her friend called, swinging around and walking after her. I kept staring at the flying figure, kicking her legs and bellowing laughter.

"I'm flying!" She squealed. "I'm fucking flying!" She sailed back down at the front of the store, and as she disappeared from my sight behind the racks again, I felt something slide against my leg. It was one of the flirty pink rain boots.

"I'm, uh--I'm headed back to--" One of the boots lifted stright into the air and pushed its sole against my chest, gently knocking me off balance and making me take a couple steps back.

My dick jumped. An unearthly foot massage for the milf...flight for one of the bold coeds...and pushy, flirtatious wellingtons in glossy pink rubber for me. I knew it wasn't going to end there.

As I moved on to the clearance aisles, checking over my shoulder to see the boots leading a few more pairs behind me, I lost control of my imagination. I wanted more than just fun--I wanted these things to take charge.

When I turned into the aisle I was looking for, the magic seemed prepared to oblige. Concentrated around the far bench was a collection of sneakers, long women's socks, stockings, pantyhose, boots and...laces?

I turned around to look behind me, and the wellingtons were right on my tail. Black vinyl boots flanked them on one side, and red leather stilletto boots on the other. My nerves were jumpy, but there was a delicious kind of fear waiting for me here--the fear of this living footwear getting carried away with my own fetish-fueled desires. It was like every visual cue was set up to give them more ideas.

"Now, wait--" I said quietly, "I don't know exactly what you're thinking, but--" The wellington jumped up and landed against my chest again, pushing me back toward the bench. I actually lost my balance entirely this time, but when I fell back, I was caught under the arms by two boot toes, and my head was supported by pillowy pantyhose. I turned to find myself resting against the rear end of the hose, so exceptionally filled that I couldn't even imagine a real woman with the same proportions.

I was basically set down on the bench, the pantyhose deflating and sliding out from under me to make the transfer. When I tried to sit up, the wellingtons leapt joyfully onto my chest, dancing up to my chin and presenting me with a rubbery toe. I laughed.

"Okay, I get it. You g--" The pantyhose from a moment ago had reinflated and stood at the end of the bench, crouching to take a seat right atop my head. The tight hose stopped me mid-sentence as a nylon crotch and ass wiggled against my face. I reached up to the curvy translucent hips and tried to push them off of me, but I knew exactly how that was going to end.

I felt cotton laces loop around my wrists, pulling them away from the sexy invisible form and down under the bench. Beneath it, my hands were tied together, leaving me at the mercy of the living footwear.

What a paradox. I was totally vulnerable, but only because that was exactly the way I wanted it. Any hesitation or resistance I had was overruled by the parts of me that had no interest in prudence and no fear of shame. My influence over the situation was the perfect feedback loop; I was in perfect control, fantasizing about having no control at all.

With my hands tied into place, the invisible ass rose off of my face, remaining standing at the end of the bench again. The round rear-end stayed there, precariously standing over me in case I needed to be hushed again. The pink wellingtons put a toe out to my lips again, clearly waiting for me to do something.

I lifted my head slightly, puckering my lips and kissing the rubber toe. I felt the blood rush to my face as embarrassment over worshipping these empty boots flushed into me--even if there wasn't anyone else watching.

They must've sensed my hesitation, because now the toe pressed even harder against my lips, then eased off and tapped my chin twice. I wasn't sure what this meant until I felt something snaking behind my head and neck. When I lifted my head again, the fabric sneaking under it inflated, and now, instead of the bench, my head was resting on the "feet" of ghostly white socks, propping it up to give me a better look down at the boots standing on my chest.

Now one of the pink boots rose to its toe and broke contact, dangling in the air just above me. As it approached my face again, I felt something grabbing at the waist of my jeans. My sight was a little blocked by the other boot on my torso, but I could see them--shoelaces were snaking around the corners and fasteners of my jeans, using their ropey dexterity to pull open the button, then threading through the zipper and pulling it down.

A pink toe tapped my nose, bringing my attention back to the wellington over my face. I kissed it gingerly, but this time the socks under my head inflated further, pushing my head into the boot and smearing my lips across the vamp. The boot seemed to stretch its toe to me, and I figured out what it wanted.

I stuck out my tongue and licked the pink rubber, starting at the tip of the toe and working my way up the vamp, facilitated by the graceful motion of the living boot. Now its partner wiggled with approval before lifting off of my chest and slinking back to my waist. Its toes worked their way under my shirt and pulled it up, exposing my stomach and--with some work--my chest. The licked boot retreated while the other came forward now, allowing me to perform the same lingual action on it.

When that was done, both boots rose to their toes again, both of them hovering the tips of their saliva-slicked toes just over my nipples.

"Oh, no, no no..." I whispered, gasping as the cool wet rubber made contact with my hardened nipples. My cock jumped again, tenting my boxers and apparently attracting the attention of deep red glossy high heel shoes, which jumped up onto my thighs. As the pink boots teased at my nipples, I watched the heels dig into the denim at the top of my thighs, catching it just under the scrape of their heels and dragging my jeans almost violently down my legs.

When the jeans were at my ankles, the serious red shoes returned, hooking their heels under the waist of my boxers. This time I just grinned with abandon as they carefully guided the stretched waistband over my hardened cock and pulled them down swiftly. The pink boots landed on my stomach, pressing down just enough for me to tell there was some emulation of "weight" in them, and they turned and walked south toward my exposed member.

Now, I'm no masochist--but a properly attended cock can take plenty of light, "friendly" abuse if it's delivered correctly.

In this case, there were magically imbued objects all around me, most of which--for me--had at least a marginal sexual connotation. Bearing that in mind, my subconscious fantasies were now armed with the knowledge that these magical inanimates would do exactly as I wished--even if the shy, socially proper side of me was protesting with all of its might.

I shuddered as the pink boots stepped down to the most tender area of my waist, to the left and right of my cock. It jumped involuntarily again, and when it did, the pink boots clamped around it, holding my shaft between their rubber arches. I groaned delight, and they responded by raising and sinking their toes, holding my cock all the while as they tugged and stroked it.

A footjob from a pair of empty pink wellingtons. I had to laugh at the absurdity even if my cock was taking the situation deadly serious. When I let out a chuckle between my groans of pleasure, though, I found the invisible ass coming down on me again in its tight nylon pantyhose.

With the ghostly shape pressed against my face again, I let myself be swallowed in the sensation and happily licked and sucked at the nylon as if it was holding real flesh. The wellingtons gripped my cock harder between their rubber feet, and as I tried to watch them through the veil of tight pantyhose sitting on my face, I watched the deep red heels hover their toes just over my nipples, teasing and prodding them with the slightest touch.

I was stuck fast in this impossible assault of sensation, and it didn't occur to me that I wasn't alone in this fantasy world until I saw a figure at the end of the aisle.

"Uh...honey?" My girlfriend stood watching, her eyes leaping from my contracting muscles to the possessed footwear laying me out for display--teasing me and humiliating me as I was primed for orgasm. "What are you doing to him?"

Behind her, the coed sent aloft by her enchanted leggings hovered into the aisle, watching as well.

"Ohmigod..." She gasped, covering her eyes and peeking through them. "That's--your boyfriend, right?" My girlfriend nodded, and the two kept watching me in silence until the pantyhose showed mercy, lifting off my face again. The socks beneath my head bulged to lift my head to the women.

"" My girlfriend shrugged. I couldn't even imagine the look on my face, but I knew it was burning red with embarrassment.

"I can't really move, you know? They're just--" The hose sat again, coming down on my face as I tried to utter an explanation. The wellingtons stroked me more vigorously, and now I was hardened to an angry, red 7 inches, whimpering and moaning into the plump nylon cameltoe mashing against my lips.

The girl said something to my girlfriend, but I didn't catch what it was. Neither of them seemed too anxious to help me out of my predicament, and when my girlfriend grinned and shook her head, I tried my best to keep myself quiet so I could overhear them.

"Only thing I can think of," my girlfriend laughed.

"It's just that she was thinking massage, and then I figured if these things could make themselves hover, then..." She trailed off as I felt my weight shift. Suddenly, I felt boot shafts slide over my hands, still beneath the bench. They seemed to clench around me, holding my hands in their soft linings as the laces around my wrist magically untied themselves. I felt my arms pulled up and out to my sides as the socks acting as my pillow now sat me up entirely, the plump pantyhose still wiggling against my face as their smoky translucent thighs contracted around my head.

"You're not yelling for help, there, horndog..." My girlfriend said, approaching slowly. "Did you ask for this?" I started shaking my head, but the wellingtons gripped me hard, and I let out a moan that had nothing to do with pain.  With a half-hearted sigh into the damp nylon, I nodded. "That's...pretty bizarre."

The coed gasped, looking down the main aisle at something unseen.

"Oh my god, look! He's not the only one..." Satisfied I wasn't in any discomfort, my girlfriend shrugged at me again, smiling as she went back to the main aisle to look.

"You mean someone else is--oh, wow." She blinked a couple times and looked back at me. "Jeez, you and that lady in the boots...can't imagine what else is locked in your mental fetish vaults." With the boots on my hands functioning like mobile restraints, I was pulled right off the bench and into the air, the legs of the hose still wrapped around me and muffling my attempts at speech. My boxers, jeans and socks were all pulled off my ankles in one smooth motion, and I didn't even see what was waiting for me once they came off.

I felt something soft swallowing up my toes, but I was looking across into the center aisle as the spectacle the girls were watching came into view. The milf, one of the first of us to get comfortably curious with our infinitely obliging friends, was hovering across from me now--floating over the display and riding a single black thigh boot. The enchanted suede pair of knee boots were still on her feet, but now they were the only thing adorning her lower half. Her milky thighs and bouncing white ass were writhing against the creamy leather of the long boot, and she purred and cooed with abandon as she faced me.

"Him," she whispered greedily, leaning into the long black shaft and driving her body against it. "I want him." My girlfriend looked back and forth at both of us.

"Him?!" She said. "You can't 'have' him..." The magic around us appeared to think otherwise, though. I sailed higher into the air as the milf's piloted boot flew her toward me, turning her around and presenting me with a gorgeous, thick ass. I could see the boot shaft beneath, coated in her juices, and I couldn't help but think what it might be like to fuck this equally-depraved fetishist doggie-style--right in the middle of this store.

My body sailed forward. Apparently the magic was taking no time to consider my girlfriend's concerns in all this.

My girlfriend looked down at her own yellow glossy flats, and the single straps unsnapped themselves, letting her step out.

"Alright--I got it." A pair of red lacquer ankle boots approached her and unlaced as she stepped in. "Pantyhose. Like the ones he's wearing as a helmet." As if waiting for her cue, more nylon hose snaked around the corner, landing and the ground and plumping out to seriously stacked figures. More boots assembled in glossy red--probably the most exotic pairs a 'normal' shoe and boot warehouse would carry. "If anyone's taking advantage of that magically induced's me."

My attention was split between the forbidden pussy hovering in front of me and my girlfriend's sudden call to action. The pink boots bobbed me up and down near the tops of their shafts, their heels gliding against the tops of my thighs.

I looked down at the bench as my girlfriend sat and pointed at a pair of black thigh-high stockings. She wiggled her toes, giggling as they slid up her legs. I looked at the voluptuous lower halves standing around her clad in glossy, tight pantyhose, and once again my brain started working overtime.

That, of course, was part of her plan. I didn't realize it at first, but as soon as I watched the stockings magically gliding up my lover's silky legs, she and her new entourage took center stage in my head. She was taking command of these lovely, horny magical constructs. Since I liked that idea even more--the magic once again complied.

"Ooooh..." My girlfriend squealed, sailing into the air with three pairs of glossy pantyhose in shiny red boots. "Oh god--that fluttery weightless feeling alone would get me going." She turned to the coed. "Speaking of going, I don't wanna impose or anything, but could I ask your help?" The coed nodded. "Are you the submissive type?"

I was flabbergasted. This was my girlfriend?

"I--well..." The coed blushed, and my significant other simply smiled as the young woman tried to produce an answer.

"Mm-hmm...then I'm sure you won't mind this." My girlfriend raised her hand. "Line up!" Suddenly, the milf and I were reoriented, hovering next to each other. The coed flew up and flanked my other side. Together, we were all across from pairs of stacked pantyhose in boots, seductively wiggling their hips and moving like prostitutes selling their product.

"Looks like that worked?" She scowled at me specifically, making me a little nervous. Her stare moved to the milf. "He wants me to play evil witch more than you want his cock," she said. "But I don't really blame you...he's not a bad specimen, is he?"

"Once you realize they just follow your fancy, it's not very easy to hold the thoughts back," The milf cooed, looking my girlfriend up and down as she clinched her thighs around her flying boot. My girlfriend started giggling, and now I watched as her stockings began rippling and contracting around her, tickling her feet and behind her knees as she laughed harder, trying to draw breath.

Control was illusory. We were all hovering over the clearance aisle, subject to the momentary spikes in our sexual arousal--exploring each other like only our imaginations could permit. The baton kept getting passed, from the milf, to me, to my girlfriend...and now we were all swimming in a sea of each other's fantastic possibilities.

But now I wanted--more than anything--to come. I wanted sexual pandemonium, and the ideas I'd gotten in just the last two minutes were ready to shoot out from my mind like cum from my cock.

"Fuuuuuuuckk..." I moaned into the facesitting hose. "I waaaannn--everything to fuuuuuuuck."

All three women cried out now as everybody shot into the air, high above the aisles and looking down at the living contents of the entire store. Just a moment's glance told me everything I needed to know--the other coed and the staff members were getting busy in their own way. There was one down by the service desk, grinding against horny haunted footwear, another playing with herself through a pair of living pantyhose and a couple more surrounded and worshipped by living shoes.

In the distance, sitting atop a rack of socks, the kid who uttered the spell simply watched the girl at the service desk spread her legs and let the living pantyhose caress her, slicking their fabric against her wet clit, taking firm hold of her legs and teasing her ass. The coed in the tall leather boots had her jeans unzipped and her hand between her legs, bouncing through the store under the power of the boots, her body up and lifting her straight off the ground in short, rhythmic jumps.

My girlfriend's legs spread as well, controlled by the magic stockings as she was positioned right in front of me. The wellingtons released my rigid cock, slipping out of the way as my girlfriend was magically impaled on me from behind. I watched her toes curl as I filled her pussy, noticing strong invisible hands appearing around the thighs of her stockings. The ill-fitting stockings straining around my own legs pushed me into rhythm as the pantyhose still wrapped around my head thrust their bulging emulated lips against me, making me even harder inside my panting lover.

I watched the redhead slide sticky sweetness against her flying thigh-high as she stared at us, fucking free of gravity. As she pushed her hips against the boot harder, she turned to the coed witnessing the whole thing. All the sudden, the crotch of the coed's magic leggings ripped open down its center seam, exposing delicate yellow panties. The coed yelped as she was pulled into place before the milf, her newly-exposed panties sliding themselves aside. The redhead licked her lips as the young cunt magically bobbed over to her waiting mouth--the coed's leggings turning her upside down so that the redhead could eat the girl out and continue to watch the show.

Now me and the rest of the witnesses to this magical display were turned participants in this fantasy fetish orgy--subject to our own fantasies AND everyone else's. Another pair of boots hovered up before my girlfriend, hooking her tits in their vamps and playing with them as she sang little exclamatory notes bringing her closer and closer to release. The redhead's face was happily buried in young pussy, the coed's thighs slung over her shoulders as she peeked occasionally over the pert ass to watch my girlfriend and I fucking wildly in midair.

It was already too much for me. I held out for as long as I could, but when the coed being eaten out began making helpless little yelps crying out that she had to come, I was brought to the point of no return. This must have had a further effect--knowing I was about to have a foundation-shaking orgasm put another idea in my head, and just I commanded everything to fuck, I commanded everything to come with me--joining my ultimate release to all the energies of the room.

I shrieked release with one final, powerful thrust, tensing every muscle and joint as I unloaded hot cum into my girlfriend. The echo of throaty cries and sexual howls all around me demonstrated the spell's final culmination--and no less than half a dozen souls shared the same unreal moment as we all came.

We quivered in our afterglow, watching the enchanted footwear around us. As we began sailing to the ground, plenty of items seemed to return to their places on the shelves while others--particularly those involved, packed themselves back in boxes or bags and hovered patiently next to whoever they got to know better.

"Oh god," my girlfriend laughed, laid out with me atop a display. "I'm expecting to wake up anytime now." Just as she said it, five shoeboxes hovered over to us, along with a bag containing stockings and socks. "I really don't know if we should take all this home."

My eyes caught the spellcaster as he was heading out the door. He nodded, smiling and giving me a thumbs up as he left.

"Something tells me we’ll get plenty of use out of them." I said, reaching out and grabbing the bottom of the hovering stack of boxes. She laughed.

"Don't you mean that the other way around?"