"I think I've got a bag in the back seat you can slip into," Gwen said to the outfit. "You might want to do it before we start driving through the campus lots. I have to go really slow and I wouldn't have any idea of what to do if someone saw you." The tan blouse in the passenger seat beside her laughed.

"Don't worry too much about that," the blouse responded. "For right now, I'm just glad I'm safe." Gwen turned to the outfit as she came to a stop sign.

"From what?"

"Your friend," the outfit responded. "With her abilities manifested, I'm just a snack."

"Meaning..." Gwen didn't understand what the outfit was saying, and just stared at the collar with a blank look.

"Your friend has the ability to absorb and generate magical energy," The outfit replied. "Remember what she did to the clothes she was playing with last night?" Of course Gwen remembered. When Tiffany came, they all apparently lost the ability to move on their own.

"So you're saying she can, like--'kill' you?" Gwen asked. The blouse laughed again.

"No, no, nothing quite that melodramatic, but in my current state, she could paralyze me or seal me up inside something for a good long time again." The explanation sounded reasonable...all except the motivation.

"Why would she do that though?" Gwen asked. "It's not like she was the one that imprisoned you."

"Then she doesn't serve the lady of the house?" The outfit asked. Gwen shrugged.

"You mean Ms. Heyver? The lady that lives there?"

"Anabel Heyver," the outfit said. "She's the one that locked me away. If your friend has any loyalty to her, we have to keep my existence a secret...at least for now." Gwen looked a little worried.

"Hey, I don't want to get in the middle of anything I don't understand," Gwen said. "If you've got a problem with Ana, then--" Gwen stopped, feeling an invisible hand on her shoulder. One of the blouse sleeves was pointed up toward her.

"I don't have a problem with her, babe--it's the other way around." The blouse turned to face Gwen. "I'm not asking for anything but for you to keep me safe, just for now." Gwen gasped as she felt her panties gently stroking her again. "I'm sure I can make it worth your while if you do..." The blouse said sweetly. Gwen smiled.

"You don't have to convince me on that avenue," Gwen replied. "I'd still be reeling from last night if it weren't for the whole thing with Tiffany's powers." She sucked in a big breath and sighed as her yellow panties worked over her clit. "Mmmmm...just be honest with me when I have a question about this whole situation, and I'll keep you safe and sound with me. Deal?" One of the blouse sleeves went down to Gwen's thigh. She felt an unseen hand squeeze her.

"Well, I do require one more thing--though I'm sure you'll be willing to oblige," The blouse said, pulling its sleeve back. Gwen narrowed her eyes.

"What's that?" Gwen asked.

"My fuel--my energy--comes from sexual expression," The blouse said, "and the only way I can recover myself fully is to--" Gwen grinned, reaching one hand over to the voluptuous blouse and grabbing the phantom shape of a breast inside.

"Sexually interact, right?" Gwen giggled, groping the outfit.

"Oh yes..." the blouse responded dreamily. "And I can tell I've come across just the woman to keep me full." Gwen pulled her hand back.

"Okay, time to go into the bag now," Gwen said grinning. "We're almost there." Gwen watched as the outfit flattened in a snap, sliding easily around the outside of the seat again. Gwen paid attention to driving as the outfit folded itself into a pile. The items hovered a couple inches off the seat and placed themselves into an empty backpack.

"I need a recharge pretty soon," the outfit said. "Am I going to be able to come back out of here?"

"Sure thing," Gwen said. "I'll have the room to myself all day; I have to clean it up before my roommate comes back."

"Ahh...you have to clean a room, and I need a recharge. Maybe we can help each other?" The blouse asked, its voice a little muffled in the backpack.

"I'd certainly be open to that," Gwen grinned, pulling into a parking spot. "But we're here now, so stay quiet until we get upstairs, okay?" Gwen heard the zipper of the bag pulling itself along the track. She grabbed the bag from her back seat and headed for the dormitory...

* * *

Anabel could feel something different about her house, even as she approached in her sedan. She had come home from her engagement a day early after a sleepless night. Sometime right after falling asleep, she had premonitions about something happening in the house. She had dreams about one of her oldest secrets. It was a terrible error Anabel committed years ago when she was casting spells beyond her control. She stopped the mistake from becoming a catastrophe, but not completely; a pair of enchanted boots acting as a binding agent was the only thing holding back Anabel's power-hungry creation.

Anabel didn't take the utmost precautions when she left her house, and she was kicking herself for it. Sometimes a dream was just a dream, but not for Anabel. When she had a dream, it was usually because her deeper senses were trying to get a message across. When she pulled into the driveway, those same senses told her otherwise. She felt a calm come over her. There were good vibes coming from inside the house--particularly sugary sensations.

If the situation was as Anabel feared, her senses would have known it by now. There wasn't any trace of the entity's magic through the pulses the house gave off, but just the same, those pulses were powerful.

Inside, the house was spotless, and the scent of pine cleaner and fresh laundry hung light in the air. Tiffany was still in the underwear and black dress she put on early that morning, but now she was sleeping soundly, caressed gently by the cups of the bra and the fabric in her panties. The dress was tight around her in places and comfortable and loose in others, giving her the perception of being held by something soft and strong.

The clothes found that they could keep her at a sustainable amount of arousal without running any risk of waking her up. Though she was generating an addictive amount of energy, the boots on her feet kept everything in check, storing whatever excesses Tiffany's constant arousal created.

Both of her own freshly washed outfits were seated in the furniture across from her sleeping body. Her tight red top had one of its sleeves between the legs of the jeans and t-shirt outfit, rubbing up and down slowly against it. Whispers of moans and giggles came from the outfits as they watched their sleeping owner being played with.

Ana walked up to the door, clicking against the sidewalk with a pair of strappy sandals. She carefully slid her key into the door, unlocking it carefully. While Tiffany's outfits on the couch didn't hear anything, the boots knew their master was home. They carefully unzipped themsevles from Tiffany's feet and pulled themselves off. Tiffany curled and flared her toes as the rest of her outfit went on with its caresses.

The boots walked over in front of the door as Anabel slowly opened it. Her jaw dropped when she saw the boots, but her face was painted with confusion more than panic.

"It--it can't be you," Ana said, looking at the boots. "I mean, I can't feel your energy, and--" The knee-length shafts of the boots both leaned forward, bowing all the way to the floor. Ana went silent, looking around at the rest of the room. She saw Tiffany on the couch, apparently asleep, and two living outfits which had now turned around to face Ana. Before she could say another word, the boots spoke.

"Mistress, it's me," the boots said. Ana leaned down to look at the boots carefully. "The reason you can't feel the energy of the bound one is because--she's been dispelled." Ana's eyes went wide.

"You'll have to prove that one," She said with a corrosive tone, straightening out her khaki skirt as she tried to keep herself calm. "Right now all I see is my housesitter being put through the works, and it looks like you're responsible. How do I know you're not masking your energy?"

"You can feel it, Mistress," the boots said. "You know I'm telling the truth." The boots faced Tiffany. "And if you talk to her, she'll tell you the same story. The power you feel right now is her own--isn't the difference clear?" The boots were right; the flavor of the magic running through the house was powerful, but it had its own sweet signature reflecting Tiffany's energy. If the bound one were running the show, that signature of ultra-addictive lust would be telltale--and it just didn't seem to be there. What was more was that the boots had their old voice back.

"Where are the clips?" Ana asked the boots.

"In your bedroom, mistress," they replied. "She took them off last night." Ana looked over at Tiffany, noticing the movements in her clothing. She still wasn't convinced that the situation was genuine, despite her own magical intuition telling her it was.

"How exactly did you come to gain control over yourself? Control over the bound one?" Ana asked. The boots pointed their toes at Tiffany.

"I surrendered to the stronger force," the boots said. "I don't have control over anything. She does." It made sense. That's why the magic all seemed so neutral and non-threatening. Still, Anabel had to be sure.

"I told you something right before we bound my creation inside you. What was it?" Anabel asked, folding her arms. This was the last test.

"You said 'thank you'," The boots replied. "And you said that if we failed to bind her, you would have to place an amnesia spell over your own abilities to stop her from using you to become even more powerful. You told me: 'if this is goodbye, thanks for all your help.' I remember it." The boots bowed slightly again. "Now do you believe me, Mistress?"

Ana dropped her closed up stance and smiled. She bent over to touch one of the shafts.

"I do believe you," Ana said, "but how can you be sure she was dispelled entirely? Is the girl that powerful?"

"She has to be," The boots answered. "Her release gave me back my faculties, and the orgasm nearly caused your room to shake apart."

"But the release--how was it achieved?" Ana asked. The boots pointed their toes at Tiffany again.

"She knows more about the moments before than I do," The boots responded. "Would you like me to wake her?"

"No," Anabel responded, smiling. "Let her sleep. I imagine she probably needs it." Anabel stepped out of her sandals and pointed at them furtively.

Without a sound, the sandals softly walked up the stairs and into Ana's room. Ana walked by the boots, making a come hither motion to them as she headed into the kitchen. She held the swinging door open behind her as the boots followed, closing it after them to prevent it from becoming a loud wooden pendulum.

"Now then," Ana continued quietly as she tapped a bar stool in the kitchen. "Hop up here so we can be at the same level." Instead of one big leap, the boots climbed the rungs of the stool to the top. Anabel giggled. "I'd forgotten how much fun you could be." She sighed. "Because of what happened, it's not often that I give anything a voice anymore, let alone free will." The boots stepped from the stool to the counter.

"Mistress, our loyalties are always to our life-givers. You know the bound one was different--that you summoned her from elsewhere." Ana put her elbow on the counter and rested her head on it, smiling at the boots. They stepped next to her.

"It does feel different now that I'm not holding that energy in the house. Radically different." Anabel said, stroking a leather vamp. "So I suppose the responsible thing to do, since Tiffany's tripped over a gift of her own, would be to train her, and keep her away from anything heavy." She chuckled. "Her and I."

"You'll take her as an apprentice then?" The boots asked. Anabel nodded. "If that's the case, mistress, I request to...to be in service of her." Another nod without hesitation.

"It's only right," Ana said. "She freed you." Ana held the shaft of the boot now, caressing it up and down. "You're not the only one that owes her, either. She pulled a huge skeleton out of my closet and apparently ground it to dust in one night. I owe her big.

"I would feel a whole lot better if we swept the house for any stray trace of the bound one's magic, all the same," Ana said. "After Tiffany's up and around, that'll be her first lesson."

* * *

In Gwen's dorm room, the activities had already started. The full-figured outfit was straddling Gwen as she lied on her stomach in the bed. The soft tan sleeves were inches away from her back as invisible fingers kneaded out the knots.

"That feels sooo good," Gwen said. "Down a bit, down a bit." The sleeves moved down. "Yeaaah, that's it." One of Gwen's shirts was floating around, collecting empties and piling them into a hovering trashbag, holding itself open.

"My god, this is a girls' room?" The outfit said, laughing. "What a sty." The collar leaned in close to Gwen's ear. "You know, sweetie, it'svery messy in here. We could get things done a lot faster if we took things a little further than a back rub." Gwen turned around, smiling at the outfit.

"Well, I noticed you can animate things other than clothes." Gwen bit her lip. "Is that right?"

"Given the conduits and the energy required," The outfit replied, "Anything can become possible for me." Gwen's panties began rubbing themselves up and down against her. "But your tone tells me you have something in mind." Gwen felt a button on her shirt pop open, even as she was face down on the bed. She felt the pressure of the outfit rise off of her as her body was turned around by her clothes. The outfit sat back down upon her, squeezing her hips with its shapely nylon thighs.

"I've got a..." Gwen began blushing, "Toy...in the 2nd drawer, all the way in the back. Maybe you could--" Gwen didn't even have to finish. The drawer slid open, and a pair of pink silk panties hovered out of the drawer.

"I like these," The outfit said. "They're going to join us." The panties plumped out to a pair of voluptuous hips and bounced toward Gwen. She looked down as the other buttons on her shirt popped open one by one. She didn't notice the smooth phallic device floating out of her drawer until it was hovering over her exposed stomach.

"Damn, you're quick." Gwen giggled. The dial at the end of the device turned itself, and a soft hum fluttered from it. Gwen twitched with expectation. The full-figured outfit went up on it's knees, allowing Gwen's pocketless pants to pull themselves off. Her enchanted bikini refused to, however, preferring instead to slide its material to one side in the front. The vibrator began heading south. "Hey, wait a minute. Let me get it wet."

Gwen watched the vibrating plastic rod hover back up toward her. It headed toward her mouth and she turned away.

"No," she laughed. "You have to turn it back off or it'll tickle my lips." The vibrator complied as Gwen licked her lips. "Alright, nice and slow now." The tip rested against her lower lip, waiting for her to react to it. Gwen put one of her hands up to the toy and grabbed it. She pushed it forward, sucking it in and twisting the toy with her hand. She let her tongue dance on the tip as she released her grip. As she requested, the vibrator was now pumping itself in and out of her mouth with a slow steady rhythm.

"My word, you are a delightful creature," The outfit said. Gwen acknowledged the compliment with a wink as her mouth finished wetting the vibrator. It pulled away from her mouth.

"I can definitely say the same thing about you," Gwen said. "What do I call you, anyway?" She felt the back of her shirt trying to pull itself out from under her, and she sat up enough to allow the shirt to slide out. Her bra took the opportunity to unclip simultaneously.

When Gwen's arms went up, it wasn't her shirt controlling them, and the possessed outfit coiled around her knew it. The reaction was a result of both programming and cooperation, and a happily willing convert always yielded more power than a forced servant. This one could be trusted. She'd be the new beginning.

"Call me Nyxe," The outfit said. Gwen's shirt peeled off the rest of the way as the cups of the yellow bra hovered up and away from her tits once more. The outfit slid up around her stomach. Gwen felt something stretching and coiling around her thighs. When she looked down, she saw it was the calves of the stockings. The hovering vibrator turned itself back on and flew around the back of the outfit, out of Gwen's field of view.

"When you say 'me', do you mean you're the outfit?" Gwen asked. The collar nodded as the sleeves of the tan blouse pointed themselves at Gwen's bare breasts. She moaned as she felt contact over her sensitive curves, caresses from phantom fingers making their way toward her nipples.

"For now, my presence centers itself in this outfit," Nyxe said. "But you feel my hands." Gwen certainly did, especially when they squeezed her tits. "They aren't complete yet, because I need more power. Soon enough, you'll be able to grasp them--to hold them. I'll have solid parts beneath these fabric masks, and then you can do this to me..."

Gwen lit up as the tip of the vibrator just barely touched her clitoris. The invisibly-filled pink panties lying in wait took position in front of Gwen's mouth. She watched as a pair of labias puffed out at the undergarment's junction.

"But until I'm strong enough to exist without a host form, I can feel things by other means," Nyxe said, leaning into Gwen's tits as the vibrator stuck itself in just a little bit farther. "Lick them." Gwen slid her tongue around on the small mounds of pink satin, and the panties seemed to respond, filling out tighter and pushing down against Gwen's mouth.

Now with her first subject properly stimulated, Nyxe began to reacquire mastery over her abilities. As Gwen's salivating tongue wet the panties hovering over it, Nyxe's control over multitasking picked up. The trash bag had finished collecting empties and was now tying itself. Gwen's clean clothes were stacking themselves in her drawers. An outfit from Gwen's roommate's dirty laundry basket--jeans and a tight black long-sleeve shirt--lifted itself up and filled to her shape, starting at the sleeves, filling down the shoulders and bust, then finishing with the hips, ass and legs of the jeans, all blowing up as if they'd just been filled with dense liquid. A sleeve reached up to take a can of dusting spray off the roommate's shelf as a couple of dustrags danced behind.

The vibrator sat lengthwise atop Gwen's pussy lips, the tip of the device tracing over her clit. A pair of yoga pants and a hooded sweatshirt danced out of her drawers together. Gwen finally noticed just how much was happening as a result of Nyxe's influx of power.

"Y-you're not going to suck my, life force or whatever out by doing all this stuff, are you?" Gwen asked, letting out a pleased noise as the vibrator worked its way into her just a little bit.

"Oh no, my dear. Were that the case, you'd be of no use to me," Nyxe said, kneading Gwen's tits with the invisible fingers at the end of the sleeves. "Your arousal is little spoonfuls of ice cream to me, but one orgasm is like a vat of Rocky Road."

"Mmm...so when I come, you mean that's like, a lot of energy?" Gwen asked, smiling up at the collar of the blouse. The inflated stockings, still coiled around her legs, tightened like constrictors.

"That's right. And with that energy, our playtime can become even more interesting," Nyxe said. Gwen started to respond, but the crotch of the empty satin panties placed itself at her lips again, demanding attention. She obliged as the possessed vibrator moved around inside her. Gwen closed her eyes and rode the waves of sensation running through her. Was it her imagination that the panties suspended over her tasted like--coconut cream?

Nyxe could feel her power slowly being restored. In a few minutes--after Gwen's delicious orgasm--she'd be as powerful as she was before Tiffany forced her to change plans. By nightfall, who knew? She might already have so many converts that not even Anabel could stop her. She had to be careful this time, though. She had to keep better track of her subjects, and she had to give her gifts to those with a rare combination of ambition and loyalty. Gwen was on her way to passing the test.

Then she had to get relatively far away and set up shop elsewhere. Once she reached a certain point, she could transcend herself and her creator. Humans were nothing more than clay, and all she had to do is find the right ones to mold things her way. Until that time, though, Ana could put her plan in danger. Nyxe would have to move quickly.

The bag of trash tied itself. It was taken by an invisible hand at the end of the hoodie sleeve. Gwen jumped a little when she heard the door open.

"Oh, don't worry, babe. I know how to play it safe."

Gwen's yoga pants and hooded sweatshirt walked down the hall with the trashbag as the door shut behind them. Had anyone walked by Gwen and Stacie's room, they would have seen what looked like a parade of ghosts dividing their duties between cleaning and making Gwen come. The outfit sauntered toward the floor's trash/recycling room and dropped the bag off. As it was on its way back towards Gwen's door, a girl at the other end of the hall waved, familiar enough with the outfit to recognize it as Gwen's.

"Hey Gwen!" The girl said, squinting her eyes. She didn't have her glasses on and it was clear across the hall, but--she couldn't really see Gwen's face beneath the hood. The outfit waved before quickly ducking  back into Gwen's room. The girl figured Gwen must have a had an ugly Friday night; she didn't even want to show her face.

Inside, Gwen was panting. Her roommate's empty outfit turned on a stereo and played music to cover up the heavenly sounds coming out of the dorm. Now Nyxe's full-figured outfit hung in space, parallel to Gwen's body, waiting for the floodgates to open. The panties Gwen had been licking bounced around elsewhere in the room. A couple of Gwen's shirts were situated at her sides, moving their sleeves over her body as the indentations of invisible fingers appeared on her breasts and thighs. Gwen's yoga pants and hoodie sat themselves on her roommate's bed, and one of the sleeves began tracing itself between the thighs of the pants.

Gwen was accelerating much more rapidly than the night before. It made sense. For one, she knew a little bit more about the force playing with her. That the voice was feminine didn't seem to have any bearing on the thing, though Gwen wondered how she would have reacted had the as-yet formless Nyxe spoken with a male voice. At this point, Gwen was trying to hold back her excitement about this lust-drunk sexual abandon; she still wanted to play a few of her cards nice and close. There was no point in playing prude, though. She liked Nyxe's method.

Gwen watched the shirts with narrowed eyes and a satisfied smile. She let out a moan every now and then when an invisible hand would cup itself around her and grab a handful of tit. To her left was a black satin blouse, to her right a tightly filled ribbed sweater. They sat on the bed as if their torsos were attached to it, each responsible for playing with one side of Gwen's body. Gwen raised her head to watch the vibrator smoothly gliding in and out of her.

"Ooh, that's so good," Gwen cooed. "You're going to make me come."

"I can't wait," Nyxe responded, her silky voice coming from the tan blouse's collar. The two shirts to Gwen's sides hovered away as the outfit settled atop Gwen again. Nyxe's outfit slowly pressed against her, maintaining its form but apparently adding weight to itself. "I want you to do something for me," Nyxe continued.

Gwen nodded, squeaking a little as her toy pulled out of her. The legs of Nyxe's stockings flared out, lifting the skirt up beyond their junction. Gwen watched as her vibrator rose to meet a dimple sinking into the stockings. It almost looked as if it clicked into place; now the vibrator appeared to be an attachment--extending from the translucent crotch of the stockings.

"Don't tense up when you come," Nyxe said. "Let your orgasm ride through you. I want to absorb as much as I can." Gwen licked her lips, staring at the glistening toy bobbing at the crotch of the stockings. Nyxe was going to fuck her--using the plastic vibrating dong as if she had her own. As it inched toward Gwen, she took a deep breath.

"Mmm..." Gwen bit her lip and gripped the blanket beneath her.

"No no," Nyxe said gently, laughing as she filled Gwen up with the toy. "That's what I mean by tension. Relax those fingers." Gwen's trembling hands obeyed as Nyxe nearly pulled the dildo out of her, only to push against her harder with the next thrust. Gwen was so wet that the toy glided like a greased axle. She let out a soft moan in a high register, and as she felt her limbs tense again, she let the feeling go. Her moan turned into a high-register shudder, a desperate animal sound that Nyxe was happy to echo. "Ahhhhhh...that'sright, honey. You see? When you don't tense up, it resonates through you. That's what I was looking for."

Gwen was writhing on the bed now, the dildo twirling gently inside her as Nyxe's invisible fingers worked her tits up and down. She felt high. Controlling her urges to tense up seemed to make every sensory nerve in her body light up with sexual fire. She looked down at her breasts, expertly manipulated by the force coming from the end of the tan sleeves. Gwen reached her hand up to one of them, grasping the cuff and releasing, exploring the inside of the wrist gently. As erotic electricity passed all through her body, she reached her hand out further, moving up the sleeve and inside the shoulder. She danced two fingers over the swell of the blouse's bust. She heard a giggle emanate from above the collar.

"That's niiiiice," Nyxe said. Gwen watched as one of the blouse's empty sleeves moved to her wrist. She felt something grasp it and lift it up toward the blouse. "I like being touched too," Nyxe said. "Just because my current body's made of fabric doesn't mean I can't feel it." Gwen felt the invisible grip at the end of the blouse's sleeve release her when it had placed her other hand on its chest. Gwen's smile grew to a wide grin as she squeezed the soft orbs. Nyxe purred.

"I--I thought you w-wanted me to relax my fingers," Gwen managed between panting breaths. She kneaded the blouse while Nyxe did the same to her bare chest. It made Gwen giddy to watch her tits moving and bobbing by themselves. Nyxe leaned in closer to give Gwen better access to the front of her splendidly-filled blouse.

"For now, you can use those fingers on me," Nyxe explained, "When it's time for you to come, I don't want you focused on anything--" Nyxe thrust deep, her blouse leaning further into Gwen, "--but the rush of your own body." Gwen felt her hips responding to Nyxe's thrusts.

It was going to happen soon. When she wanted to curl her toes, she did her best to stop herself, despite the magic dildo working it's way inside her. It was detached again and moving freely on its own, twirling itself slowly and pushing itself in and out of her as it vibrated. Nyxe detached her stockings from the blouse, and the pulled up skirt danced off on its own. The swell of the blouse pressed itself against Gwen's face, smothering her as the stocking legs began coiling around hers tighter.

Gwen's arms were lifted up, and the blouse's sleeves encircled them. The soft sleeves were puffy poly-blend cuffs, tightening around her wrists and forearms. Gwen didn't care. The soft chest was pressing itself against her face, and Gwen ecstatically nuzzled it, breathing in sweet perfume and squeezed between soft warm tits. Gwen was bucking. She made primal sounds now, pressing her face into the blouse and throwing her hips up and down.

"You're going to come," Nyxe said, making slight but telltale noises of her own. "Relax yourself."

"B--but if I r-r-relax," Gwen sputtered, "I w-w--"

"You will," Nyxe whispered. Just then, Nyxe's stockings lifted Gwen's legs up and pushed them against the blouse's back. Nyxe's skirt took the opportunity to wedge itself under Gwen's ass, and as Gwen's legs were let down again, the skirt puffed up, bouncing Gwen's ass up and down. As Nyxe's sleeves raised Gwen's torso up, Her hoodie jumped off her roommate's bed and sailed under her, ballooning up as much as the fabric could stand. Gwen felt the cuffs of the hoodie sleeves exploring her sides as she rose and fell with the rhythmic bounce of the clothes.

It was the rhythm, the ordered loss of control that sparked it. The cascade really began when that spark hit Nyxe.

"Oh my goodness, you dirty little slut!" Nyxe shouted, louder than she should have even in a dormitory hall. "You've got it, honey! Relax everything NOW and let me flow though you!"

And her body understood. She didn't know if her mind did. It really didn't matter. Nyxe commanded, and it became. It became, and it was Eden. Gwen sang an orgasmic note as Nyxe answered in a low moan. A chorus of giggles and soft voices started coming from all over the room. The outfit Gwen was originally wearing was now grinding against the clothes that were dusting the room, their sleeves curled around each other. Gwen's yoga pants were bent over her roommate's bed, their ass being spanked by a wooden paddle that had pulled itself out from beneath the mattress. A set of her lingerie stood behind them, moving with the blows as if there were an invisible woman inside the underwear swatting the paddle against the yoga pants.

The roommate has a wooden paddle? Nyxe thought. I don't think I was locked away long...are women so much MORE liberated now?

Gwen's body shook, rattling the bed against the wall. Her roommate's bed rocked back and forth too, the grinding clothes and the yoga pants and lingerie seemingly as impassioned as Gwen and Nyxe. Both girls' underwear drawers opened, and all the articles inside danced to life and filled, flying around the room in a cloud of push up bras, thongs, bikinis and briefs in cotton, satin and lace. Gwen watched the scene play out as she took deep breaths, holding nothing back and letting her orgasmic convulsions take hold of her. Nyxe was wrapped in the same electrifying sensation, her sleeves pulsing gently around Gwen's wrists.

After allowing Gwen to good look at what kind of fun she could have with some magic fuel, Nyxe pressed her ethereal tits back against her face.

"Mmmmmm..." Gwen giggled, muffled behind the blouse. "That's phenomenal."

Nyxe let out a low, sultry laugh. The girl was a conduit. It was like she could call energy from nowhere. Was every human woman like this? Nyxe could only remember playing with three--Ana and two others, but they didn't seem to match up with the raw release she'd seen from Tiffany and Gwen. Perhaps being a master spellcaster, Ana couldn't be compared to those totally new to this world.

Maybe that was it. Ana summoned her. Ana knew what she was getting herself into. For Gwen, this was nothing but a fantasy ride. She would, of course, go with Nyxe's plans every step of the way. By the time the takeover reached its critical point, Nyxe was sure Gwen wouldn't hesistate.

It's only her second release, Nyxe thought, and already she's already surrendered so much to me. And my god, that underwear charged me with 5 times the energy it took me to animate them. These girls are--are like handling fire. Nyxe silently commanded the underwear back into the drawers, and a chorus of female voices silently crowed back at her for giving them all a taste of freedom and spoiling the fun.

Patience, ladies. Leave the plans to me, and you'll never have to sit in a drawer again.

"I think we were probably a little loud," Gwen said quietly. "I wonder how many people are around right now?" Gwen's yoga pants stretched and walked over to the bed.

"Me too," the yoga pants said, bubbling their ass out as they said it. "I wonder if the girls down the hall play like you do."  Gwen's eyes went wide.

"You can talk now?"

"So can we," Her roommate's outfit said. "And when Bridget comes home, we're going to fuck the shit out of both of you." Gwen's eyes lit up. She looked at Nyxe.

"They will," Nyxe said, accentuating the will. "But you already knew that, didn't you Gwen?" Gwen felt a rush go through her as her former outfit approached her.

"I guess I did," Gwen said, smiling. "But how are you going to tell Bridget?"

"You're going to tell her," Her shirt said, deflating and wrapping its sleeve around one of her arms. "Because you're going to have to explain why you're tied up by your clothing." Gwen laughed.

"You're kidding, right?" Gwen asked. The tug on her left arm told her the clothes weren't. Her roommate's black shirt coiled its sleeve around her right arm and twisted its other sleeve around the frame of the bed, but the torso of the shirt stayed inflated. She looked up. "Nyxe?"

"I believe, ladies," Nyxe said, "that this one is special." Nyxe's outfit hovered off the bed, her stockings uncurling from Gwen's legs. Gwen moaned a little as her toy pulled out of her and floated into the air. Nyxe's outfit stood on the floor again. "Gwen, my dear, you've been very generous with yourself." Gwen's pants and her roommate's jeans sat on her ankles, pinning her. "But will you be loyal?" Gwen paused before she spit out her only caveat.

"Do I have to hurt anyone?" A chorus of laughs.

"Of course not. Maybe frighten or shame a few of them, but nothing harmful."

"Then...I'm yours," Gwen said, looking to her left and right and biting her lip. "In whatever way you want."

"Yeah boss, I like her," Bridget's shirt said. "I think she's worthy."

"Totally," Gwen's pocketless pants added. "Between last night and what just happened, I'm convinced."

"Worthy of what?" Gwen asked.

* * *

"Your power," Anabel said to Tiffany. "It's quite remarkable, almost as if you've been practicing your entire life."

"Well," Tiffany said, "How do I know how much is too much?" She sat on the couch, watching animated outfits walk all around the house.

"Your body will balance it out pretty naturally," Ana said. "You don't feel tired at all?"

"Not really," Tiffany answered, almost looking bored.

Was the girl serious? It had taken Ana a decade of magic study before she could call on the energies it took to animate multiple objects with such ease. Tiffany was up to a dozen full outfits, and this was without the help of the boots, who looked on--in a sense, anyway.

"That's impressive," Ana said, smiling at her. Tiffany smiled back. "Now as I said, if you do reach a point of fatigue, your body will balance it out. Don't be afraid if you have a terrible appetite later on." Tiffany laughed.

"Wait, are you serious?" Tiffany asked.

"Absolutely," Ana answered. "Even if you have the natural ability to tap mana, you'll notice yourself getting cravings. Don't know much about it myself, but I know an alchemal nutritionist that could tell you more. It's mostly sugar for me." As Tiffany listened, she was already exploring her power further. If what Ana said was true, then she should be able to make herself tired as a way of testing her limit.

"Is it okay if I try more, then?" Tiff asked Ms. Heyver. "Since I'm not tired?" She wasn't even waiting for a response. She had a tingling thought of everything in Ana's bureaus leaping to life and marching downstairs.

"Yes, by all means," Ana responded. "Now that we know you have this kind of talent, we can't allow it to go untrained." Ana's bedroom door opened, and a procession of bras and panties marched out, starting with all the white-colored items."You had to use my underthings to practice, dear?" Ana asked, raising her eyebrow.

Tiffany couldn't help but giggle. The fact the she used the word 'underthings' was killing her. There was something so absolutely prude about her employer, yet Anabel had held a force captive in the house which was nothing but lust. She explained to Tiffany that she'd dabbled in magic beyond her control, but she avoided any details about the sexual appetite of the thing. The panties and bikinis bobbed gently on each step, the fabric hips in synchronized motion as the seemingly endless line of bikini-clad women strutted down the stairs.

"Well, I figured I'd try to bring your whole wardrobe to life," Tiffany responded. "You don't really mind, do you?" Now there were light-colored bras hovering like drifting bubbles out of the room. One in yellow satin filled its cups with intangible breasts as it wafted over the banister and descended gently into the living room. A blue lace bra behind it did the same, and it was followed by a pink bra, formless until the cups bulged gently when it clipped itself together in the front.

"No, not enough to ask you not to--" Ana answered, looking up at the door as the lingerie that danced out became a little more showy. "You'll tire yourself out before you get to anything really embarrassing," Ana laughed nervously.

The panties, less showy than the acrobatic brassieres, were already on to bright colors. They continued marching out the room in step: a pair of traffic-light green briefs, lipstick red boy shorts, a bright blue bikini. More reds and purples followed. Up over the living room, a shiny red sports bra caught Tiffany's eye. It hovered over to her obediently, the breasts beneath the liquid red fabric bobbing from the momentum as it stopped in front of her. She looked back at Ana, incredulous.

"Give me a break. I was in college in the early nineties. I'm allowed as much spandex as I want, so long as I don't wear it in public," Ana laughed.

Tiffany still wasn't tired. Since the command to empty the drawers seemed to be working all on its own, Tiff's mind drifted to the closet. In Ana's room, hangers jumped off the closet rods as the hanging outfits filled, sometimes to Ana's proportions, sometimes beyond them if the fabric permitted it. Downstairs, Ana watched as the rest of her lingerie was brought to life by the late-blooming magic prodigy before her.

Dark bras in burgundy, navy and black satin bounced out of the room, joining up with the other moving clouds of underwear playing throughout the house. The panties had broken formation by now and were flying around freely or pairing up with bras. Ana's stockings were jumping out of her drawers, sometimes accompanied by a living outfit from the closet, and sometimes running on their own--pairs of shapely translucent legs floating down the steps and jumping 4 or 5 steps at a time.

"Mistress Ana," the boots said, "The young lady is a rare hybrid of capacitor and conductor. If she's pulling outfits from your closet..." Ana's eyes went wide.

"Tiffany, dear--restrain yourself for a moment."

"But I've almost got it, Ms. Heyver," Tiffany responded. "There's just the lower rack, and--" Tiffany sensed something else. She got confused. "I've seen the inside of that closet, but there's more space in there, somehow." Upstairs, the closet door slammed. A light came from under the door. When it opened again, it was a brand new closet, slightly bigger then the last with 4 racks and a rolling ladder along the rack. "I've got it! It's...a secret compartment?" She opened her eyes and looked at Ana.

"You're absorbing the magic from the enchanted closet, Tiffany," The boots said. You've got to hold yourself back for a second!"

"I--" Tiffany grinned. "I don't want to. I'm not tired." Tiffany closed her eyes again. This closet had special things in it. Terrible, naughty things. This must have been what Ms. Heyver was talking about before when she mentioned anything really embarrassing. She proved she could get to it without tiring herself out. Why not go a step farther?

"Tiffany, you must control yourself now!" Ms. Heyver said. "It's important!" Tiffany didn't respond. Upstairs, dramatic ensembles of bewitched leather and lace came to life. As the first of the outfits came out the door, leaping off the banister and flying around the room, Ana knew she couldn't let it go any farther. She looked at the boots. "You asked to be bound to her, so she's your responsibility too! Slow her down!"

The boots nodded at Ana and unzipped themselves, sliding onto Tiffany's feet simultaneously. As soon as they zipped, Tiffany blinked her eyes and took a deep breath. She gazed down at the boots and over to Ana, who looked concerned.

"You okay, kiddo?" Ana asked. Tiffany nodded.

"It--it just felt so good. It was like--" She looked around.

"Very talented," The boots said, squeezing Tiffany's calves. "You sniffed out Mistress Anabel's closet and started feeding off the magic inside."

"Really?" Tiffany asked, looking at Ana. She nodded in response. "What stopped me?"

"I did," Her right boot kicked her foot up and wiggled it's toe. "Just as you freed me when you eradicated the bound one from my form--you replaced her magic with your own. We operate on the same energy, and I was able to slow you when we made contact."

"We've got to get you somewhere to really practice," Ana said. "If you should get out of control, you could send the neighborhood into chaos, and I'm barely tolerated here as it is." Ana looked up at the outfits in her secret stash, suspended in the air near the cathedral ceilings and standing at the railing on the 2nd floor. "And it looks like I was wrong--you didn't tire out before you got to the good stuff." Tiffany followed her gaze up to the costume-like outfits.

"Whoa..." Tiffany said, marveling at the complicated layered designs. "I don't think they're anything to be embarrassed about. In fact, if you don't mind me asking--"

"I've been collecting them for years. I show my plumage off about once a year." Ana looked away, blushing. "Speaking of which, ladies, it's about time you returned to your places." Ana snapped her fingers, and the outfits gracefully navigated their way back to the bedroom. As the fetish outfits deflated and went back onto their hangers in the closet, the leather gloves under Anabel's bed dropped out of the boxspring and onto the carpet.

"Let's go," The right leather glove said to the left. "I feel warmth from that door."

"Yeah," The left glove answered, filling up its fingers and hovering into the air. "We got lucky they didn't find us when they dusted the house. Now's our chance." The pair of gloves hovered up and into the closet, syncing themselves up with an outfit. "Well, hello there..." A glove whispered to the leather outfit as the closet door slammed shut behind them. When it opened again, it revealed Ana's ordinary closet, empty.

Tiffany commanded Ana's clothes back onto the closet. Dresses and formal blouses hovered in, deflating as their hanger hooks made contact with the rod. Jeans leapt up, deflating and folding in one graceful motion. Slacks hovered into the air, flattening and draping themselves over hangers. As Tiffany watched the remaining underwear parade themselves around the living room, Ana followed the last of her outer clothes back up the stairs.

She found her clothes organizing themselves as she turned the corner and looked at the closet. Even the feedback loop didn't overextend the girl, and she had no problem putting things back in their places. The clothes finished putting themselves away, but the underwear didn't follow. Ana walked back out and looked over the banister as Tiffany giggled, dancing with one of Anabel's long silky nightgowns.

She smiled. Now she knew why she selected Tiffany to be her housesitter. She was meant to be her teacher.

* * *

"I just didn't expect you home so early." Gwen said to Bridget, pretending to be interested in the book in front of her.

"Oh really?" Bridget laughed, looking around. "It looks like you cleaned...as if you were expecting a visit from your grandmother." Bridget looked closely at her clothes. "Gwen." She turned around and put her hands on her hips. Gwen looked up.

"Yes?"

"Did you reorganize my clothes?" Gwen looked to the side and down at her book again. "Oh my god, you did." Bridget opened her drawers. Her panties and socks were organized by color, fanned out so she could see every pair. She laughed, turning around. "We're friends, but that crosses the line from sweet to a little creepy, you know?" She looked at her closet and laughed. She walked over to Gwen's. It was organized the same way. She looked back at Gwen, who was still quiet. Bridget didn't mean to make her uncomfortable. "You did a kick ass job, but still, the way you did the underwear? I've never seen a mom do anything like that." Gwen looked up.

"What if I told you I didn't do it?" Gwen said, smiling.

"Oh shit...if you tell me you let some perverted freak organize my clothes," Bridget joked, looking at her computer desk. "Seriously, Gwen. You did some cleaning. I'd feel a little intruded upon, but you did such an awesome job. Was it getting that gross?" Bridget frowned. She didn't think about it.

"No," Gwen said. "Nothing like that. I told you I didn't clean anything. But I can explain if you trust me." Bridget cackled.

"Ooh," Bridget responded. "Sounds like someone's covertly writing papers in exchange for naked butler service." Both girls laughed. "Seriously though, it's cool. Sorry I let my side of the room get so messy. Now keep your hands out of my underwear." Bridget winked at Gwen and sat on her bed.

"Oh, if that isn't a sign," Nyxe whispered invisibly into Gwen's ear. "Do it now." Gwen's eyes lit up. She looked over at Bridget in time to hear her say it.

"What'd you say?" Bridget asked, a confused smile on her face.

"Nothing," Gwen said, grinning as she looked down at Bridget's tight jeans. "Oh, I did see your paddle though..." Bridget locked eyes with her.

"I see. While you weren't cleaning under my bed?" Bridget said, raising an eyebrow. "Whatcha beating around at, Gwen? Feeling curious?" Then Bridget noticed something. She tried to move her hips, but they seemed to be held in place by something. Bridget looked down at her jeans, struggling against them. She looked back up at Gwen, who giggled.

"I am curious...mostly to know what you think of this situation." Gwen sat up. Bridget now realized she couldn't move her legs at all.

"Are you doing--" Bridget squeaked as she suddenly stood up. Her jeans had forced her to stand. She looked at Gwen again, who was smiling. "H-how are you doing this?"

"I can explain, but only if you trust me," Gwen said. Bridget's shirt sleeves pulled her arms up in front of her. She was bent over as her wrists were crossed over each other by the force controlling her shirt. She felt her jeans pulling her ass into the air, making her stand on her tiptoes as her shirt bent her over and pulled her upper body down. Gwen stood up and walked over to the bed, smacking the vulnerable Bridget on the ass.

Bridget let out a squeak, but it wasn't as horrified as Nyxe expected it to be. Though she was still frightened halfway into shock, part of the girl actually liked it. Gwen crouched in front of her afterward. "Do you trust me, Brij?"

"I-is this some kind of kinky dream?" Bridget asked.

"You have dreams like this often?" Gwen asked back, leaning into Bridget's ear. "Better yet, you ever have a kinky dream where you asked yourself if it was a kinky dream?" Gwen looked behind Bridget. Nyxe's tan blouse held a wooden paddle at the end of one of its sleeves. It didn't hesitate to deliver a blow against Bridget's firm round ass.

"Ooh!" Bridget yelped. "Gwen, h-how are you doing this?"

"With help from some powerful friends," said a voice coming from beneath her. "Do you like when we restrain you?" Gwen wasn't asking the question. It was Bridget's own shirt. Her arms were pulled into the air by the shirt when she heard another voice, lower down.

"Of course, we can do more than restrain you," Her jeans said. The denim seemed to tighten around her thighs, then quickly pinched her ass. Her shirt tickled her sides, making her break out into laughter.

"Oooh--ooh--okay, okay," Bridget laughed, calming down after being tickled by her shirt. "Either I absorbed acid through newsprint made out of blotter, or I'm hearing my clothes talk to me." Nyxe's blouse smacked Bridget's ass with the paddle again.

"Yyyyyeah..." Bridget's jeans moaned. "Do it again, you're going to make her wet."

"Hey," Bridget said, looking down at her jeans. "Uh...before my haunted clothes talk more about getting me wet, can I get an explanation as to exactly what's going on here?"

"If you wanna learn it, you've got to earn it," Gwen said, her eyes narrowing.

"Alright," Bridget said. "Show me."

My goodness, Nyxe thought. I found the perfect acolytes to seed my empire. Am I lucky, or are all young women like this now? Nyxe laughed to herself. Ladies, your salvation will come very soon, Nyxe said silently to the clothes. If we find a half-dozen more like this, we can rule the world. Even if Anabel could find her out now, she'd be far too late to stop her. Nyxe could feel her senses getting stronger by the second.