Household Magic

Household Magic 4

"Remember," Susan said. "Not around the boys at all. This secret is between you and me." Erin saluted her mother. "And don't encourage them too much. You need to be the responsible one, because they can get out of hand. Got it?"

"I'll keep everything under control," Erin said, watching a pair of boots march out of the closet. Susan picked up one of her legs and allowed the black leather boot to slide onto her heel. She leaned back and picked up her other foot before the boot finished zipping, and Erin watched in awe as it looked like Susan was resting against an invisible barrier while her other boot slipped on. "Hey, how did you--"

"Oh," Susan smiled, standing on two feet again. "Well, they won't let me fall, so I take liberties with my balance. The clothes hold me up."

"So--how long are you going to be?"

"Your father called and told me he'd be back around 7PM. Football followed right after golf, apparently." Susan snapped, and her pocketbook came hovering out of the kitchen.

"Wow, he ditched you all day?" Erin asked.

"Well, think about what's been happening around the house," Susan said. Erin giggled. "It's good for him to get out of here for a day to confirm he's not crazy." She kissed Erin's cheek. "I'm glad I was here to be able to explain all this stuff to you."

"Thanks for trusting me with your secret," Erin said. "Though I imagine it's a load off your back to talk about it."

"Smart ass," Susan laughed. "But seriously--thanks, sweetie."

"Anything we--uh--should do for you while you're out?" Erin asked. Susan shook her head.

"All the housework takes care of itself now, except--maybe clean up what's left of your room before you go back to school?" Erin's eyes flashed. The gloves were still up there, weren't they?

"Yeah, I can do that," Erin said.

"Remember, I don't know when your brother is due home, " Susan reminded her, "so keep an ear out."

"I got it, mom. You have fun now..." Erin said, shooing her toward the door, which opened by itself. Susan laughed.

"Did--you do that?" Susan asked.

"I think the house is trying to tell you something," Erin joked.

Susan waved to Erin as her boots walked her out the door without her help. The door shut behind her.

A smile curled across Erin's face. She turned around and peered up the stairs. The leather gloves were already waiting at the top, beckoning her.

"Well now," Erin whispered, "let's find out what this gypsy curse can really do, shall we?" She stood on her toes and peered through the small window near the top of the front door as her mother's car pulled out of the driveway. "Let's lock the doors and keep out any prying eyes."

Erin jumped a little when the deadbolt on the front door shifted over with a loud click. Her attention was drawn to the living room, where the shades rolled themselves shut as the curtains drew closed.

"Cool," She laughed, looking back up the stairs. The leather gloves hovered there, motionless. "Well, aren't you going to come down here?" One hand waved at her, and the gloves disappeared around the corner toward her room. Erin smirked and followed up the stairs.

As soon as she turned the corner, the door to her room shut. She heard the lock on the inside pop. She tried the door anyway, just to be sure. Locked. She thought she heard drawers opening.

"Alright then," Erin stepped back toward the steps. "I'll be waiting downstairs when you're finished with whatever you're doing in there." Erin headed back down the stairs and was halfway there when she thought she mis-stepped. She gasped, mentally preparing to fall. It only took her a second to realize she wasn't headed toward the ground, but lifted off it and drifting back up the stairs.

"That scared me. I wish you wouldn't carry me around like that." Erin was set down at the top of the stairs. "I didn't mean it that way, it's just—I was on the stairs, and—" Erin went quiet when she heard the lock to her room pop open. The door opened, and in the doorway were the leather gloves, beckoning her again. "What are you up to, anyway?"

The gloves hovered out toward her, one of them reaching down toward her hand. When Erin's hand met the gloves, the leather fingers gripped her own and drew her toward the bedroom door. As she walked into the room, she realized what the gloves had been doing. There were clothes stacked in neat folded piles, and a bunch of articles on hangers that were laid on her bed.

"Ah ha—getting ahead of me on the room cleaning, huh?" One of the gloves made an OK sign at her. "Well, you got just far enough. I need to pack a bunch of warmer clothes." A glove pointed at Erin's open closet, and one of Erin's red sweaters tumbled off a shelf and puffed out to a feminine shape. "Cool! There's also a couple turtlenecks and--" The sweater walked right up to Erin and bumped its chest against hers. "Hey now," Erin laughed, rolling against the sweater and spinning around the back of it, holding its sleeve. The other sleeve flopped around, and Erin grabbed onto it and locked it with the other. "Gotcha!"

One of the leather gloves grabbed the back of Erin's shorts and pulled up, and Erin let out a squeak. She turned around and grabbed for the animated glove, missing it by an inch. A red sleeve coiled around her wrist. Just as playful as the clothing, Erin fell back into the sleeve's pull just to see what it was planning to do next. Another sleeve went under her other arm, and she was dragged, willingly, back toward her bed. When she was close, the gloves dodged under her and grabbed her ankles, lifting her up with the sweater and dropping her onto the bed.

Laughing, she reached for one of the gloves at her ankle, which dodged out of her way again. She saw red fabric come over her eyes for a second before her head popped through a neck-hole. Her sweater was pulling itself over her.

She shuddered for a second as the fabric slid over the hardened points beneath her tank top. She let her arms slide into the sleeves as the hem of the sweater settled around her waist. The sleeves of the sweater lifted her arms over her head, and she felt herself eased back onto the bed. The leather gloves hovered over her, fingers wiggling.

"Hey now," Erin raised an eyebrow. "If you're about to do what I think you're about to do--" The leather hands leapt to Erin's sides and started tickling her. Erin broke out in laughter. She could feel the fabric in the sleeves stretching and pressing down against her wrists. "Not fair," Erin giggled.

Erin tried to slide down out of the shirt, but the waist of the shirt stretched around her and kept her from doing so. With one more trick up her sleeve, Erin kicked her legs back as hard as she could, doubling her bottom half over her. Just as she thought she was going to be able to tumble out of the fabric holding her down, the gloves moved from her sides to her ankles. Now Erin's red sweater held her arms to the bed while the gloves held her ankles just over her head. She was doubled over, leaving her rear and thighs exposed.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing your hands are occupied, huh?" Erin joked, taking deep breaths while the tickling leather gloves were occupied holding her ankles. Just then, she saw something move near her dresser. At the top of her mirror, the end of a white feather was held between the glass and the frame. "Oh, no no no no..." Erin started playfully fighting against the clothes again as the plume sailed through the air toward her. When it hovered just over her body, she stopped grappling for a second to look at it.

"Evil..." Erin said, grinning. Her heart rate was up. This was getting fun. "Whatever you do, please don't use that on my feet."

Just as she hoped, the feather got the message and bounced over and behind her head. She looked up to see the feather inching closer to her left sole. When it made contact, Erin let out a loud laugh and kicked hard enough to break the grip of one of the gloves.

"Oh, sorry," She blushed. "I didn't actually mean to do that. My feet are super sensitive," She laughed, her other foot still doubled over her. The free glove grabbed her leg again, but it didn't seem to pull it in a direction. Though the leather gloves stayed clamped to her ankles, she found she was now free to move them. Erin's sweater allowed her to sit up now, and she watched the freely hovering feather keeping its distance from her.

Suddenly, she was distracted by the sound of a dresser drawer. The cuffs of a pair of black over-knee socks hovered out of the opened drawer like charmed pythons. The ends suddenly plumped out to a roughly cylindrical form and hopped out of the drawer, revealing fully formed invisible "feet" occupying the lower ends of the mostly opaque socks. As they walked toward the bed, Erin reached for the feather hovering a couple feet away from her. She snapped her fingers and pointed at it again, and it sailed toward her waiting fingertips. When the socks leapt up onto the bed, she beckoned them with a finger, holding the feather behind her back.

The pair of shapely black socks approached her, and she reached out and squeezed a toe at the end of one. The rest of the toes wiggled in response. Erin laughed and traced her fingers lightly up the ankle and around the back of the calf, and the disembodied sock slid closer to her to make itself more accessible. Erin slid her fingers to the top of the sock and inside the cuff, running them along the rim. She wanted to try something.

"Watch it!" She bellowed, lunging onto the pair of socks. They tried to wiggle out of her grip, but only managed to turn themselves about before she held them fast between her arms and her body and laid on the bed. The sweater didn't seem to be resisting Erin's ambush of the socks—in fact, it seemed to be helping her to hold them down.

With the socks under control beneath her, she pulled out the feather and started at one of the heels. She rested her all her weight on one forearm, which she pressed against the socks just above their ankles. The feet of the socks were pointed up, 18 inches from Erin's face. Her lips curled into a sadistic grin.

"We know I'm ticklish, but how about the magic socks?" Erin said, tracing the feather up the instep and toward the toes. The end of the stocking flared out, and Erin blushed. "Wow...that's an interesting effect." Just then, the feather darted out of Erin's hand and ran itself up and down the soles of the socks on its own. "Even more interesting." As the feather tickled one of the filled-out socks, Erin ran her fingertips down the arch of the other. She watched her fingers work behind the translucent feet as they wiggled back and forth.

Erin watched as the toed wiggled and clinched. The socks beneath her hadn't tried to escape; other than the little movements tied to the ethereal foot and toes, there was no kicking or rolling. The feet moved as anxiously as the toes now, and Erin marveled at how the enchanted socks behaved like real feet, twitching and responding to the touch of her fingertips and the teasing feather.

She played with the socks for a few seconds before she felt the leather gloves at her ankles tug her a little. When she didn't react, the waistband of her shorts pulled down slowly.

"Hey!" Erin shouted. Her hand went straight behind her hips to grasp the waistband, and when she was off-balance, the legs of the socks gained enough inertia to slide out from under Erin's forearm. Erin fell with her stomach and chest on the bed as she pulled the waist of her shorts back up.

Now she felt the leather gloves pull on her legs again. They lifted her legs back behind her head, and now her red sweater held her arms at her sides as the leather gloves held her feet in place. Now the socks stood next to her, leaping up on their toes.

She felt fabric stretch over her toes. When she turned her head to the side, she saw a sock crawling up her foot. She closed her eyes and laid her head on the bed. She felt the gloves release her ankles, and now it was the socks themselves holding her legs in place.

She felt the gloves at her back now, rubbing her shoulders through the red sweater. Erin made an approving noise as the socks pulled her legs out straight behind her. The upper parts of the cuffs squeezed her calves, and the sensation of compression ran down to her ankles, through her feet all the way to her toes.

When something brushed against one of her ankles and slid around to the back of her calf, a sensation of familiarity ran through her. She knew it wasn't the gloves, which were still kneading her back gently. The sensation on her lower legs were invisible fingertips, and they were working themselves up her legs.

"Oh!" Erin exclaimed when they reached the top of the cuffs. Now she felt something between the sock and her upper calf, exploring the top of the socks just as she had. She out a shy little laugh and took a deep breath. She knew what was next.

It was a feather at her heel, just as she expected. She shuddered a short laugh--wordless anticipation and a cry for mercy wrapped in one. It traced up her arch and paused for a second, then disappeared.

"I get it," Erin plead. "That's a neat trick. Now—" It was no use. Now the feather returned, doubling its speed and running up and down her foot. A couple of seconds later, she felt invisible fingertips, an emulation of her own just moments before, running up and down the other sock. Erin bellowed laughter and tried to move her arms, but the sweater sleeves responded by extending her arms out to her sides. "Oh no, no, no..." The gloves worked their massaging fingers up her sides, and shifted to tickling as they moved under her arms.

The feather twirled around toes and ran up and down her arch. The fingers were unpredictable, jumping around the other foot. The teasing session turned Erin into a giggling, moaning mess. After a few minutes, all the sensations ceased at once. Erin couldn't move her arms or legs, but she was given time to catch her breath.

"Okay—that's pretty fun," Erin said, her panting dissipating. "But are you going to let me go now?" Her body didn't seem to press against the bed as hard as it had been, but she still couldn't move. The sweater sleeves pulled her arms against the sides of her body again, and one of its shoulders lifted up and gently rolled her onto her back.

"I guess that's a no," Erin smiled. "That's fine with me. What's next?" The leather gloves hovered a foot over her chest, wiggling their fingers. "Well now, I'm game—but if we take this any further, you have to promise to keep it between you and me." Erin's bag from college unzipped, and one of her thin summer t-shirts hovered out, still folded. It floated over between the leather gloves and unfurled right-side up.

Erin 's eyes were fixed on the shirt as it inflated to her shape. The sleeves and shoulders rounded out and the lower torso formed a soft ovoid shape where the hem flared beyond the small invisible waist. The gloves flew up and rested on the flat chest of the t-shirt, and round feminine endowments swelled out of the thin white cotton. The gloves began to squeeze and fondle the phantom chest as they continued to swell. Now Erin was looking at a set of tits far beyond the size of her own. The gloves cupped their fingers beneath the breasts and lifted them, bouncing them alternately. There were invisible nipples protruding from the front of the massive orbs.

"Yeah, I see them," Erin chuckled, eyes wide. "Very impressive. But you didn't answer my question. Promise me you're going to keep whatever with you...a secret." One of the gloves ran a pointer finger over the well endowed t-shirt's chest in an X. "Oh, cross your heart? That's cute, but is that a real promise if you don't have an actual 'heart'?"

The shirt bounced a little closer to her and a glove extended its hand toward her. A sweater sleeve lifted her arm up toward the glove, and the glove positioned itself to shake her hand. Erin cooperated and went through the motion with the sleeve.

"Alright, that I can take as a deal." Erin said. "Now while you're playing with the clothes in the bag, I have a favor to ask of you." The other leather glove gave her the okay sign. "Do what you want with that shirt, since you've already claimed it—but don't stretch out all my clothes. We'll go through everything and pick you out things I don't use anymore, okay?"

The gloves clapped, and the breasts on the t-shirt jiggled. Erin narrowed her eyes. "I'm not complaining at all, but if you're my mother's...'gypsy blessing', what made you reveal yourself to me?" The gloves waved their hands at her, then one of them held up an index finger before both gloves darted away from the curvy t-shirt and out Erin's bedroom door. Erin looked up at the t-shirt. "Well, that was odd," Erin said. "I wonder what they went to go do?"

The curvy t-shirt's shoulders seemed to shrug a bit. Erin smiled and lifted one her arms up toward it, and her sweater didn't stop her from doing so. The t-shirt jumped forward, and the breasts pressed themselves against Erin's extended hand. Erin tried to pull pack, but the sweater held her hand in place. Erin hid an involuntary smile by biting her lower lip, her face blushing red. Her heart was racing, and now the confident, mischievous smile broke out over her face again.

"Give me my other hand," Erin commanded in a low voice. "If that's what you want, let me do it right." She didn't have to lift her other arm, though. The red sweater did it for her, placing it near the side of the t-shirt's endowments. The other sleeve resituated Erin's other hand symmetrically on the other side of the shirt, and as Erin faced her palms toward the tight cotton curves, the red sleeves brought her hands in to make contact.

Erin instinctively squeezed the breasts gently as her palms were pushed into the stretched cotton. She moved her hands in opposing circular directions, spreading, lifting, and kneading the invisible tits. The sweater let her pull her hands away to see the round forms drop and bounce into place. Despite the lack of a body in the clothing, the form inside behaved like it obeyed gravity, even if the hovering shirt itself didn't.

"God, you're really pouring yourself in there, aren't you?" Erin asked, pushing the cotton mounds together again. Just then, the gloves came back into the room, holding what looked like a book. "Hey, what've you got there?" The gloves hovered over to Erin, and the empty t-shirt hovered aside and floated next to her.

The gloves opened the book up, and it was clear the book didn't need any support from the enchanted gloves when both of the leather hands began flipping through the pages. Erin took a closer look as diagrams and words flipped by her. All the sudden, the black leather fingers stopped and held the book closer to Erin.

"Warning...this spell, and others spells in the class of...animation?" She looked over at the t-shirt, then the gloves. "Where did this book come from?" Erin heard her a door creak open, and a couple seconds later, one of Susan's white and pastel blue sun-dresses fluttered into the room. The book hovered over in front of the dress, and the pages started flipping themselves.

"You—you are trying to give me an answer, right?" Both gloves gave her a thumbs-up sign. She looked back at her mom's dress and sneered. "Gypsy blessing. She was lying to me, wasn't she? She read from that book!" The gloves held their thumbs up and bounced up and down. "Well...thank goodness you're so good at pantomime." The skirt of Susan's dress inflated and pushed out, propelling it up like a Jellyfish. It floated over toward Erin with the book.

"Well now—since she apparently didn't want me to know about the book, let's not let her in on this, okay?" A leather hand extended itself again, and Erin shook it. "Good. Now let's make one more deal. Since you showed me the book, I assume you want to teach me to use it." A glove made the 'okay' sign again. "If you do that, promise to keep me safe, and promise to keep this a secret—then we can really play."

This time, the glove extended a single pinky. The tight, smooth leather gleamed on the other digits, balled up against the soft palm. Erin's eyebrows went up.

"Ooh, pinky swear." Erin hooked the black leather pinky with her own and shook it. "Now we're in business." Susan's dress held the book in front of Erin, and as Erin reached out toward it, it hovered over in front of her. "It looks like there's a lot of information in here—I better know what I'm doing. Where do I start?" The pages of the book flipped toward the beginning and stopped. "Mechanics and Applications of the Mana Pool," Erin read. "Well, let's get studying—my brother could be home anytime." Erin felt fingertips on her soles, and she cooed as they moved over the arches of her feet. "Okay, okay—we can finish what you started first."

As if her words were an executive command, the red sweater pulled Erin into a standing position. The athletic shorts Erin was wearing pulled themselves down to her ankles and held themselves in place. Erin watched as one of her feet lifted on its own and stepped forward, followed by the other. Except for her socks, her lower half was nude now.

Erin heard a drawer open. A very familiar hum echoed off the wooden panels of the open drawer. Erin's sweater didn't stop her from putting a hand up to her mouth. Her cheeks turned bright red as she watched it hover out of the drawer. Erin's little pink egg sailed through the air with the wireless remote in tow. It flew over to her, and the vibration sped up at the settings were dialed higher on the remote.

"Well now, I didn't mean that kind of finish," Erin said to the hovering toy. Not that she hadn't thought about it, but she figured it might be a good idea to learn a little about the book before completely giving herself away to this force. Communication implied sentience, and since power was already a given—did subjugation or dominance fit in there somewhere?

Erin let the thought go. Obviously her mom knew about the book. If it was dangerous, she would have been reluctant to leave her daughter alone with it...right? Erin decided to play it cool and continue with the plan. She made a deal with this "force": it would teach her to use the book, and Erin would play. Now it was only a matter of leveraging it right—keeping the upper hand in the situation. Erin grabbed the remote and shut it off. The egg sat in the air, still now.

"I meant finish dressing me. I thought that's what the sweater and socks were all about," Erin chuckled. She let the egg go, and it hovered in the air again, back toward her drawer. "Let's build up to the main event. We've got plenty of time for that after you've taught me some things."

A pair of black cotton panties lifted out of the same drawer the toy sailed back into. They sailed down toward the floor near Erin's legs, and once again she felt her leg lift on its own and step forward, into the leg-hole of the panties. The same happened with the other leg, and the black cotton sailed up her legs and over her butt. She shuddered a little as the fabric settled itself in place; she felt herself wet the crotch of the panties when they made contact with her lips. She gasped when a sensation moved over her clit, a single fingertip moving over the moisture--as if pointing it out to her.

"Yeah, well..." Erin squeaked. She shook her head and laughed. "Kind of a natural reaction to seeing my love-toy floating around the room on its own, dontcha' think? I'd have to be pretty boring for my mind not to wander after that one." Erin's cotton panties pinched her ass, forcing another giddy laugh out of her. "Besides, you always seem to have kind of a naughty way about what you're doing, as evidenced by that."

A thin plastic hanger holding a denim miniskirt pulled itself out of Erin's bag from school. The clips opened up, and the miniskirt fell halfway to the ground and plumped out to the form of shapely hips. The tight denim skirt sauntered over to ward Erin as other items started rising out of her bag. A pair of green hot pants inflated to capacity and went to hover under the exaggerated t-shirt, khaki capris puffed out to tight thighs and a shapely rear, and another plaid skirt followed behind.

"Make sure to pack the warmer things, too." Erin said, watching the other summery tops dance out of her bag. A couple seconds after she issued the command, she felt something pressing against the soles of her socks. The invisible fingertips were coming right through the floor now. Erin giggled, lifting her feet up to try and stop the fingers, but the persisted no matter where she moved her feet. Now another finger returned the the moist black cotton between her legs. Erin shuddered with pleasure as the sensations moved up to her lower belly and around her hips. The denim miniskirt was near her feet now, and Erin stepped into it under her own power. The skirt sailed up her legs and squeezed around her butt, zipping and buttoning once it was in place. The socks walked her over to her full length mirror.

"Cute," Erin said, admiring herself in the mirror. The socks turned her around, and she felt the sweater bend her over a little bit. She felt a slap on her ass, and she laughed and pulled the skirt down a little bit in response. "Skirt's a little shorter than I remember it—guess it's 'cause I really didn't wear it all summer." The skirt hiked itself up back up, and the hem in the front flipped up, revealing the black panties. "Well yeah—that's kind of what I'm saying. Be nice if it were just a couple inches longer."

A couple feet away from her, the book flipped to the back, through a dense appendix. It stopped at a page and hovered over to Erin.

"Tailoring spells?" Erin asked, skimming through the page. She looked down at her skirt again. She liked having a few short ones, but even she couldn't wear this one out unless it had another couple inches. "Okay—let's give it a try."

She found a hemming spell, something to shorten and lengthen clothes without so much as a stitch ripper. Erin spoke with meter through the rhyming couplet and sounded through the unknown language as best she could. It must have worked, because a second later she felt the skirt slide down her thighs. Only it wasn't sliding was the lower edge of the fabric extending.

"That's—impossible!" Erin said, reaching down and pulling on the hem of her skirt. "Wow. Materialization." She looked at the book again. "I'm dealing with some real power here. Let's go downstairs and get me studying." The book hovered back to the blue and white sundress that carried it in. The book was pressed against the chest of the dress as if unseen arms were wrapped around it, and the dress turned to the bedroom door and walked out, heading for the stairs.

Erin's summer clothes, most of which had filled out to her shape, put themselves away in high closet shelves or dresser drawers. The exceptions were the buxom t-shirt and tightly-filled green hot pants, which scuttled out of the room after the sundress. She might have said something, but she was paying more attention to her outfit, which was now walking Erin forward without any help from her own body. She stopped at the doorway as the sundress and outfit continued downstairs. She looked down at her outfit.

"Something wrong?" The outfit spun her around, and out of the closet stepped a pair of glossy mary-jane heels. "Oh, shoes." Erin's socks marched her back to the middle of the room.

As this was happening, her bag from college was now being restocked with warmer clothing. Out of her open drawer danced a pair of heavy black leggings. The ends of the leggings hovered just over the floor as the legs themselves plumped out and filled starting at the ankles. As the inflation spread up the thighs and hips, an invisible booty danced inside the enchanted leggings. Erin's stereo clicked on, and the volume began rising. The receiver was already set to a rap station, and the leggings did booty drops to the beat of the song on the air. Erin burst out laughing. She wandered closer to the leggings, watching them get low.

"Wow, you've got some moves. If I'd known you liked music, we could've been dancing earlier." Erin bent down and smacked the curvy bottom of the leggings as they swung their booty toward her. Behind her, a pair of chocolate corduroy pants tumbled out of her closet, landing on an extended leg before the cords puffed out to shape. A wool sweater pulled itself off the closet rod with the hanger still in the neck-hole. One of the sleeves tapped Erin on the shoulder, and she turned around to see the sweater behind her, and a couple of her turtlenecks floating out of the closet, and a couple pairs of pants already dancing around the room. Erin looked down at the shoes, which had followed her over to the leggings. "Come on, let's go downstairs. I want to dive into that book before anyone gets home."One of Erin's socks lifted her left foot into the black heel, followed by the right. She felt the shoes squeeze her feet, and they started moving to the beat of the music.

"Come on, now—" The red sweater on Erin began swinging her arms. "Well, at least dance me downstairs, would you?" Her outfit complied, taking her over to the door with the beat of the music. Erin's socks and shoes spun her in a half-turn, and her skirt pushed her butt out and made it shimmy as her footwear propelled her toward the door.

When Erin was on the stairs, her heels and socks made her gasp when they took a step back. Erin was in no danger of falling, but that didn't stop the breath escaping her. As the music played on in her bedroom, her outfit decided to improv some fancy moves on the staircase.

"Just—be careful with me, alright? I have a few more breakable pieces than you do." After Erin said it, the stomach and shoulders of her sweater seemed to shudder, or—giggle? With her body still moving to the beat, she couldn't be sure, so she let it go.

She felt her legs bend as her denim skirt and socks made her crouch. A second later, her feet sprang out from under her, and she jumped three steps up, turning a 360 in the stairwell as she did. The landing was perfect, and the outfit simply wiggled Erin's body side to side for the moment while the song was bridging.

"Okay, very impressive." Erin sneered. "So...can we go downstairs now?" Right when the bridge of the song broke, Erin's black mary-janes jumped and turned her body to the side. Her skirt pushed her butt out, shook it a few times to the beat, and on the close of the next measure, one of Erin's sleeves lifted into the air and came down. Since she knew it was coming, she naturally flattened her palm. It made a satisfying SMACK against the tight denim, and Erin's body turned forward again, walking down the steps to the beat as her sleeves bent at the elbows and moved her arms in rhythm.

"Well, we'd kick ass at a dance contest..." Erin laughed as her body danced gracefully down the stairs. "No doubt about that." Finally at the bottom of the stairs, Erin turned into the living room to see the other two outfits already sitting on either side of the couch. The book hung in space above the third cushion. Erin's glossy heels carried her over to the book, which hovered out of the way to let Erin sit. She was swung around by her sweater and pulled onto the couch by the denim skirt. Erin sat up and smoothed out the sweater, and in response, she felt something push her breasts up.

"Alright, alright," she said, grabbing her chest. "It's study time now. We made a deal." She looked down and watched the sweater jiggle her tits, despite her hands holding them. The possibilities ran through her head, but she held herself back. Book first, play later. Erin let go, and the sweater squeezed each side gently before finally releasing her. Erin cackled. "You're insatiable."

Erin looked up at the book hovering back in front of her. It placed itself in her lap and flipped closed.

“Well, no—I need your help, actually.” Erin opened the book. “Show me what Mom did to bring everything to life.” The pages flipped under her fingers, and she moved her hands away. When they stopped, she recognized the page she saw earlier. “Right, right—animation spells.” Erin shook her head. ..SPELLS in the class of ANIMATION are NOT RECOMMENDED FOR BEGINNERS. She sneered. “So given this morning's incident—I'm going to guess that Mom's a beginner.” She read on.

Note: this spell is subject to the automatic recursive behavior principle. Do not bring emotionally absorbent objects to life unless you have a good understanding of charge, flux, and purge theory.

“Okay, so if automatic recursive behavior principle is what it sounds like, we're talking over and over again without any supervision.” Erin looked to her outfit at her side. “Sounds like we need to start at charge.” The book flipped pages toward the front, and when they stopped, Erin read...

Warning: Charge is a function of strict Mana measurement. Know the properties of any object you choose to enchant. Consider the purge properties of an object before charging it. Attune yourself to a source of Mana before charging an object.

“Wow. Looks like I've got a little reading to do, huh?”