Erica Panics

Erica ran to her car, terrified. She was about to change into a dress she remembered Dylan really liked for their dinner date. But she heard her front door opening. When she went to investigate, she found a curvy off-white jumpsuit standing by itself in her living room, looking like a voluptuous invisible woman was wearing it. When a feminine voice with a hint of a Caribbean accent spoke to her, she panicked and ran back into the room where she had been dressing. But the dress she was planning to wear had inflated to her shape, and was apparently waiting for her to return. When hangers began to shift around in her closet, she grabbed the shoes she had just taken off while changing clothes and ran outside to her car, not realizing until she was blocks away from her house that she’d left without her purse, ID, or money.

She didn’t really have any idea where she was going, anyway. There were clothes coming out of the front door of almost every house in her neighborhood. Some looked like they were throwing an impromptu party, with clothes jumping around and appearing to have a good old time, without anyone in them or any music playing.

She started scaring herself with clothing terror scenarios. What if they swarm my car? What if the stuff I'm wearing comes to life? What happens when I run out of gas?

That last one was key. Without any money, she couldn’t buy gas, which means sooner or later she’d have to return home. And even then, she'd be dependent on some-thing letting her in.

“You going anywhere in particular?” a voice asked. It sounded like a slightly higher-pitched and breathier version of her own voice.

Erica looked around in panic. “Who said that?”

“I did,” the voice said. Erica saw nothing that would help identify the source, but she felt a bit of vibration against her chest when the voice spoke.

"You can't see me right now," the voice said. "So I'll help you out a little." Just then she felt tiny pokes against her chest that felt just like fingertips.

Erica gasped. "My clothes?!"

"More specifically, your bra," the voice replied with a giggle, as the touches alternated between poking at her nipples and squeezing each breast.

"Come on," Erica replied, as she began to squirm. " At least not while I'm driving. "

"Okay, then pull over," the bra said helpfully. "Or you could just let me drive." Unseen hands took hold of each of her wrists and pulled them away from the steering wheel. The two top buttons on her blouse undid themselves, allowing more room for the bra to peek through. "Ahh, that's better," the voice of the bra said, as the car began moving seemingly under its own power. "I can see out there now. Though you never did say where you were going."

Erica tried to reply but it was hard to concentrate with the treatment the bra was giving her chest. "I guess I have to go -- mmm -- back home. Nnngh. I didn't bring -- ugh -- my purse or -- ooh! -- any money."

"What do you need money for?" the bra asked. "I can help you get food when you need to eat. Though I suppose you might still need money later on."

"Mmph -- gas," Erica managed to say.

"Oh, that," the bra said, noticing the gauge indicating less than a quarter-tank. "I guess you do need to go home to get money or a card or something for that. I can pump it but I can't pay for it."

The car swung a wide U-turn in the street, retracing its path. After a couple of blocks, they passed a bus stop where a very shapely but empty green shirt dress sat. The dress had been seated in the same spot when Erica passed by in the opposite direction. The bus had just gone by without stopping.

Erica's car pulled over and lowered its passenger window. "Hey, hon," the voice projected through the open window. "Looks like you could use a ride."

"I guess so," the dress replied, as it rose from the bench and approached the car. "I thought I was going to get a bus ride, but when the driver pulled over, he looked at me like a deer in the headlights, and kept going. " As it leaned against the door, Erica saw how the fabric moved against the nonexistent shape beneath it, as if it was actually wrapped around a substantial figure.

"Well, hop in," the bra said, and it was apparently only then that the dress realized that the voice speaking to her was not coming from the woman in the driver's seat.

"Is that OK with you, Miss?" the dress said, addressing Erica. "I would have expected the solids to be trying to get away."

Erica looked at the back of the empty collar, since there were no eyes to look at. She was about to try to press on through the bra’s distracting pokes and squeezes when it spoke up again. "She was trying to get away until I distracted her, " the bra said. "I'm her bra, by the way.”

Before Erica could say anything, the passenger door unlocked. The dress stepped back, giving the door room to swing open. The dress didn’t wait for Erica’s response but took the door opening as a hint that the ride offer still stood. It got in, closing the door behind it.

“So where are you headed?” the dress asked. “Though I probably should have asked that before I got in.”

Erica was still too distracted by the bra’s continua actions to respond. “l’m taking her back home to get her purse and things, since she ran out in such a hurry when we started moving around. Otherwise she’ll run out of gas pretty soon.”

“Why’d you do that?” the dress asked. “Your own clothes probably mean you no harm. They know your shape, your smell, your touch, and probably just want to make you feel the way you make them feel. I guess you can’t tell with strangers’ clothes, but I’m friendly.”

“Why. Is. This. Happening?!” Erica pushed out the words with some effort, caught up in all the sensation from the bra’s breast play.

"Who knows?" the dress replied, with an emphatic shrug. "And really, what difference does it make? Just be glad your clothes are being good to you. Some haven't been, from what I gather."

"Listen to her, Erica," added another voice right by her ear, as hands began to massage her shoulders in an attempt to get her to loosen up. It was her blouse, which had come alive with the bra but chose to keep quiet until an opportune moment. "There's no reason to be so tense. We're not gonna hurt you."

Then, the blouse's voice seemed to move away from Erica just a little bit, as it asked the dress, "So why are you out by yourself, instead of partying with other clothes?"

"One of Erica's neighbors runs an online store from her basement," the dress said, "or at least she did. Some of the other outfits were plotting something, and I didn't want to be part of it. And I didn't want to hang around and see what was going to happen, so I left."

"I just, ooh, noticed something, " Erica said. "Your voice sounds, mmm, similar to the outfit that was, ugh, inside my house when I first dealt with all this. Did, nnngh, did you come from the same house?"

"Can't say for sure," the dress, as Erica's car parked in front of her house. "But there was a jumpsuit that came into the basement where we were all waking up, watched for a moment, then said, 'Hmm, I wonder,' and left the house without closing the basement door. Off-white, with hips that could probably be lethal weapons with the way she walked." The dress spoke those last words in a wistful tone.

"Pretty sure it's the same one," Erica's blouse said. But before anyone else could continue…

"Dylan!" Erica blurted out. "I can't believe I totally forgot about Dylan." The outburst apparently surprised her bra, which stopped with its squeezing and fondling.

"That's right," Erica's blouse said. "You guys were supposed to be going to dinner tonight." The blouse laughed. "I wonder what he thought when he got to the house and saw all your clothes moving around."

The clothes all laughed at that comment, not so much Erica. "I guess we're about to find out," Erica's bra said, as Erica's seatbelt unbuckled and her door opened.

Erica turned to the empty shirt dress sitting in her passenger seat. "This will be the strangest invitation I've ever offered, but you may as well come in, too. I mean, you're clothes and all, but I don't feel right telling you to hang out here or to leave while I go in and figure out what in the world is going on."

"Thank you," the dress said, as it moved to undo the seatbelt and open the door. "I mean, I don't have anywhere in particular to go, and this is actually kind of awkward for me too. I'm not bold like that jumpsuit, to just go and let myself in somebody else's house."

So what will Erica and the clothes find when they get inside?