He cast the spell a little too close to the drawer

James wasn't totally sure how this magic worked, but when the pantyhose bumped against him, it felt like there was a real body in them. The was enough to bump him back, and he knew a pair of pantyhose couldn't even weigh a pound on their own.

He just watched them as they swayed back and forth in front of him, shimmying their hips. It was almost like they were trying to flirt with him. He tried to stay stoic about the situation. He was working with uncharted territory here; he figured it might be best to approach the situation with some kind of scientific head. At least to the best of his ability.

"So, if you're alive, I don't want to be intrusive or anything – but can I touch you?" James asked. He chuckled to himself a little bit, wondering what it meant to ask permission from a pair of pantyhose – even if they could move on their own. Nevertheless, they moved a step closer to him. When he still hesitated, the pantyhose leaned forward, bumping their waist against him.

James took that to be a yes. He carefully reached out towards the waistline, pressing against the nylon from the outside to find definite resistance within the hose. He put his hands on either side of the hips, squeezing them toward each other and experiencing about the same amount of give that he would expect if someone was actually inside of them. The pantyhose started to sway a little under his grip, and he let go, waving his hands back and forth over the empty opening.

He curled his fingers inside the waistline, running them along towards the stomach. When he pulled out on the nylon, he was able to stretch it towards himself, and the rest of the fabric tensed around the invisible hips just like he was pulling against an invisible person inside the pantyhose.

"That's so weird," James said. "So you hold that shape, but there's nothing inside you…" He put his hand down deeper inside of the pantyhose now, running down the front and sticking his hand inside one of the leg holes until he was halfway down the thigh. The hose squirmed a little bit, but otherwise didn't protest his exploration. Still, when he saw them wiggle, he pulled his hand back. "I'm sorry," he told them, "I'm not overdoing it, am I?" He tried to imagine a comparison, and hoped it wasn't the same as some strange being sticking its hand down his throat.

The pantyhose turned a one-eighty, bumping against James's waist with their nylon butt. They shimmied against him, and bumped him gently a couple more times. He couldn't help but blush. He knew these were his mother's pantyhose, but she obviously wasn't here, so she really didn't have anything to do with the shapely, disembodied lower-half playfully communicating with James through some pretty obvious body language.

"Okay, okay, I got you —" James laughed, sticking his hand back inside and exploring the living nylon again. This time, he put one hand inside and kept the other hand outside, pressing against both sides of the pantyhose at the same time. He ran his fingers along the curves of the backside, his heart thumping harder as he explored the definite feminine shape. When the pantyhose began to bend over in front of him, he happily grabbed a handful of elastic nylon butt while he ran his hand over the cleft of fabric joining the legs together.

Now the pantyhose spun a half turn again, facing James and swaying against his body once more. They widened their stance a bit, half-straddling his thigh and pushing against him. James swallowed hard and pulled his hands away from the pantyhose, letting them do their thing. The way they moved was so natural, so absolutely human that he was lost in it for a second. He put his hands on the hose's hips again, not pushing or pulling, but just letting them move against him as his body reacted.

When something obviously started growing behind the denim fabric of his jeans, the thigh of the pantyhose positioned between his legs pushed against him harder, as if trying to incite it. James eventually got a grip on himself and took a step back, unsure of where exactly this was going.

"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "Maybe we should, uh, slow down for a second." The pantyhose slumped a bit, as if disappointed, and James watched as one of the ghostly feet stepped out of the black shoe it had been wearing. The leg raised up, the thigh going beyond parallel with the ground. Obviously balance wasn't a problem for these enchanted pantyhose, because now the hips leaned back as the nylon foot slowly extended towards James's crotch.

James inhaled slowly and deeply now, holding as still as he could while the translucent foot explored the front of his jeans. Some part of him thought better about allowing this to continue, but it wasn't the stronger part of his will, and it certainly wasn't the growing part between his legs. The toes extended, the top side of the foot sliding back and forth between his legs as James let out the slightest groan.

"Oh God, I don't believe I'm doing this…" James took another step back, looking behind him and spotting the bed. He moved back to it, jumping up and sitting on the edge at first. "You can keep going," James said, beckoning to the pantyhose. "But under the circumstances, my legs are a little bit noodley."

The hose stood up straight again, walking over to the bed and leaping up to stand on it. The feet didn't sink into the bed as much is James expected them to, but the impressions they made were still a little bit more than the weight of some nylon hose. He turned to look at the ghostly legs, putting a hand up to stroke the smooth, translucent thigh and running his hand down over a shapely calf. The bulge in his jeans didn't let up, and his tactile exploration of this disembodied set of legs certainly didn't help. When one of the legs lifted up and extended towards him, he let his fingers play down to the foot.

He turned his trunk enough to grab it with both hands, and he started to rub the end of the stocking tube, giving the wispy foot a gentle massage. His breathing was becoming heavier now, and he felt himself locked into something serious with these ghostly legs. Wherever this was going, it wasn't just James leading the way. He marveled at every little detail of the hose's motion, the articulation of the toes as he continued his massage, the shape of the legs as the pantyhose began to crouch toward him, and the total grace of their movement no matter what position they had to balance in.

As he leaned in closer to the nylon foot, the leg tensed and thrust the foot forward, right against James's chest. It was enough to knock him over on the bed, and he felt a tinge of fear for a second, wondering what he would do if these things suddenly turned against him.

"Hey! What was that? I —" the pantyhose stepped towards his sprawled body, one of the feet poised atop his crotch, and the other suspended over his head. Now he was looking up at the pantyhose, laying back on the bed as the hollow pair of legs stood over him. He wondered if they knew they had him at their mercy. "I didn't do something wrong, did I?"

He looked down at his crotch, watching the not-so-planted foot stroke up and down his jeans. He thought they were stepping on him, but it was more like they were suspended in the air. The sole of one foot was stroking up and down the denim of his crotch while the other was held in the air just over his face. No, obviously he hadn't done anything wrong. These pantyhose were simply taking things into their own hands —er — feet.

James groaned again as the bulge in his pants reached its biggest size yet. The other nylon foot dangling above him slowly made its way downward, pressing itself gently against his nose and lips. His hands gripped the bedspread hard on either side of him, and he kept his mouth shut, inhaling through the nylon and hitting a new sensual high as the living pantyhose gently dominated him.

He thought about speaking, but there wasn't really anything to say. James hadn't entirely meant to go in this direction with a pair of empty pantyhose, but he didn't exactly want to stop them, either. There was a certain anticipation he had in wanting to see a shapely pair of legs walking around on their own — but these things seemed to jump right to the core of that anticipation.

Maybe he did intend this all along. His sweating hands let go of the bedspread, and he reached up to begin massaging the leg standing over his face, wiggling its toes against his nose, and pressing its silky sole against his mouth.

And just when he began to become more comfortable with this exploratory power-play session with a pair of his mother's empty pantyhose, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Without shifting his head at all, his sight locked onto the drawer he was standing over when he cast the spell. Rising out of it were a pair of gray opaque tights – stronger and silkier than the translucent tan hose he'd been playing with.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that it might've been a bad idea to drape the target pair over the side of the drawer when he cast the spell.