How about those boots?

Andrew’s dare was encouraging. Milan only had to think about what she wanted to do for a moment before she set things into motion.

“Let’s try volume first,” Milan said. She concentrated on her new supply of boots, and even as she held Andrew and herself in the air, everything on the cart began to tremble. Before long, boxes were lifting into the air and shuffling themselves into a line along the farthest wall in the room. Andrew watched in awe as each box opened like a chain of falling dominoes, one after the other.

Louboutin ankle boots in black, glossy Hunter rain boots in red, knee-high Guccis in charcoal, Fendi overknees in Brown, long black Burberry thigh boots made in Italy… Andrew couldn’t even attempt to keep up with the footwear springing to life. Leather lace ups, white riding boots, combat boots, Western-style boots and **** heels. Every pair leapt out of their boxes and lined up, clicking their heels together as Milan hovered over to them.

“You know, this isn’t getting any more difficult for me,” Milan said, turning back to Andrew. “It’s kind of exciting.” Andrew looked the line of footwear up and down as laces tied themselves and zippers ran up their tracks.

“Even with everything you have going on back at your apartment?” Andrew asked. “How can that possibly be?” He watched as Milan leaned forward, almost as if she was lying on her stomach but still hovering in the air as she inspected her inflating footwear even more closely. She reached out, tracing her fingers up the creamy leather shaft of a Burberry thigh boot.

“I told you, I don’t have to focus on everything.” Milan laughed, turning over in the air and hovering upright again. “In fact, I don’t have to focus on anything at all,” she said. “All I have to do is command these things into motion, and I can just see what they do with their newfound freedom…”

Andrew had already experienced this whole process with his and Milan’s jackets. He was experiencing it in the moment with the outfit she asked him to select.

“And are they always as friendly as…this, for instance?” Andrew asked, motioning to the outfit he was playing with. He carefully moved his fingertips back down to the hips of the leather pants, and he found the white blouse sleeves wrapping around his own back even tighter.

“Well, there’s an energy in the room…” Milan teased. “I’m sure you can feel that, Andrew. It looks like some of you is feeling it particularly clearly.”

“Right, no — I totally get that,” Andrew laughed, “but I guess I’m just asking, what happens if somebody reacts badly to something like this? You know, gets violent? That sort of thing?” Milan shrugged, letting out a sneer as she looked back up the line of footwear.

“Well, I think that would be pretty stupid, don’t you?” She laughed. “I mean, if I saw a pen or a letter opener moving on its own, and I wasn’t sure how or why it was moving…animated like some kind of living thing… I think it would probably keep my distance.”

“But those are pointy, stabby things,” Andrew said. “These, though?” Andrew blinked a couple times, looking up and down the line as the boots began posing in place. “I mean, they’re like…”

“Sexy,” Milan said, staring at the line and biting her lip. “They really are, aren’t they?” Milan’s own Mary Janes slipped themselves off of her feet as she approached a pair of black Prada over-knee boots. They unzipped as she hovered over them, and after Milan slowly sank into the shafts, they zipped themselves up once more. “Oh!” The boots surprised her little bit, posing Milan with her still in them. She let out a giddy laugh, letting it continue so that she could see where they would take her. “But — I think that’s sort of the thing. We have things like this because they’re sexy, so even out of context — without a person in them, I mean…obviously it’s more strange than anything to see them moving on their own, but second to that, it’s still sexy, isn’t it?”

As if to demonstrate, Milan nodded at the rest of the line. She set them marching around the room, one after another. The Louboutins started off, and a few seconds later, the rain boots followed. The coordination reminded Andrew of a fashion show.

“I don’t…I don’t disagree,” Andrew said, watching the procession. The brown Fendi overknees and the white riding boots caught his attention in particular. “But let’s say someone does. We’re animals, Milan. Like anything other animal, we do irrational things when were faced with stress – especially in a situation that doesn’t seem rational to us. There was a long, bellowing laugh from Milan this time.

“And in the meantime, my cool-as-a-cucumber professional chauffeur has one distinct and conspicuous reaction to seeing all these boots move on their own — and that reaction is concentrated just under his waistline.” Andrew let out a little noise as he felt his briefs squeeze him again.

“Haaa! Milan, that’s totally not fair,” he said. “I know it’s you doing this. It’s still unreal, but I have an explanation for it — even if it still doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“So what would you have done if you didn’t?” Milan asked. “Let’s say you were downstairs in the department they got all these boxes from, and you were just trying on new designer shoes for an important client...like me. Suddenly, there’s this.” Milan motioned to her marching and posing entourage. “What on earth would you have done? Tried to stop them? First, why would you try? Second, there’s no way you could.” Andrew shook his head.

“No, you’re right. Probably not like this…but maybe, one pair…”

“Maybe we should experiment,” Milan smiled. Andrew and the outfit drifted to the ground, and when the empty leather pants tried to step away from him, he held on tight enough that they began to pull him along.

“Wait, it’s…” Andrew’s face turned red.

“Oh, come on,“ she mocked him. “I practically have a telepathic tether tied to those skivvies, and I know you’re hard as a rock.” The two of them traded a look of pure sexual tension. “I’m offering you a game — to play out the hypothetical situation that you’re trying to make me consider.” Andrew shrugged, taking a deep breath and letting go of the leather pants. He resisted the urge to cover himself up and crossed his arms at the elbows instead. Milan raised an eyebrow looking at his midsection, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, you win. I’ll bite.”

“Resistance,” Milan started. “That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it?” She giggled. “Trying to keep these objects from doing something that they want to do.” She licked her lips. “Trying to keep them from something they want.”

“Yeah, like that. But doing more than just trying to get in their way. Like, let’s say someone was going to try to hurt them. I mean, like, as an aim of really stopping them.”

“They don’t have nerves, Andrew, you can’t hurt them,” Milan laughed.

“Right, but that’s the other part of it!” Andrew said. “Like, if someone were to like beat them back or something, at what point would they give up?”

“You wanna see?” Milan grinned, her eyes lighting up. Andrew shook his head.

“Milan, there has to be like $30-$50,000 worth of designer boots walking around in here. You don’t actually want me damaging anything, do you?”

“What I’m going to do is give them a directive,” Milan said. “I’m not going to tell you what that directive is… But suffice it to say that it has to do with you, and you have to try to stop them from doing it.”

“No way,” Andrew said. “I get what you’re saying. I don’t want to be kicked in the face or anything.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Milan said. “In fact, I promise none of them will hurt you…in a way that you don’t like,” she muttered. Andrew looked around the room at all the boots again, laughing.

“That sounds just as dangerous,” he said. Milan shook her head.

“I promise it’s not. You can try anything you want…but they’re not allowed to hurt you.”

“I dunno if I…hey!” Andrew spun around when he felt something push against his underwear from behind. He grabbed hold of the shaft of a black combat boot, which pulled itself away from his grip just as quickly as he snatched it. Its mate placed itself in the middle of his chest and pushed him backward. Andrew put his hands behind him, trying to catch himself, but both of his arms slid into the shafts of well-placed knee boots, which tightened around his forearms, trapping them. Two more soft, thigh-length boot shafts hovered perpendicular to the ground, catching him at his ass and his back.

As he tried to pull his arms out of the leather knee boots, they **** his limbs out to his sides instead. He looked over his shoulder to see the black leather Burberrys holding him off the ground. He tried to roll off of them, but thanks to the boots holding his arms in place, he couldn’t roll anywhere.

“That was quick,” Milan chuckled. The thigh boots gently set Andrew on the ground, and when he felt pinching at his ankles, he could see that the Louboutins now held the narrowest part of his lower legs in the space between their heels and their toes. When he tried to kick up against them, they pushed down against his resistance.

“Ow!” Andrew said, more out of shock than any real pain. The moment he stopped fighting against them, the red-outsoled designer boots pushed against his ankles gingerly. Now he could see what Milan meant. “That’s…a pretty novel way of holding someone down,” he said. Milan was right. Technically, they weren’t hurting him. They simply made it so that fighting against them would make him hurt himself.

“It wasn’t my idea,” Milan said. “And they haven’t quite succeeded yet.” Andrew’s arms and ankles were pinned to the floor. As he pulled against his shoulders back and forth, trying to get his wrists loose from the knee boots, the black Burberrys towered above him, stepping up onto his shoulders and pressing them against the floor as well. Andrew looked up at the tall, empty boot shafts, panting. He was literally stuck to the ground by nothing more three pairs of boots…filled with nothing but empty space.

“You got me,” He chuckled, looking down at his briefs. He was nearly every bit as hard as when all of this started. “I give up.” He heard the clicking of Milan’s knee-high Pradas as she walked closer to him, shifting around him in an arc to his side when she was a couple feet away.

“They’re still not done,” Milan whispered. Andrew felt something slide under his head and inflate itself, propping him up so he could look down the length of his body without straining.

A pair of ankle high sequined Manolo Blahniks danced gently up his shins, tracing their toes over his thighs and hooking their stiletto heels into the leg holes of his briefs.

“Uh…you promise they’re —” he gave a surprised shout as both heels strained upward and twisted at the same time. Andrew could feel his briefs wedge between his ass cheeks for a split second before the elastic fabric gave way on either side. The pouch of his underwear was ripped clear open, and except for a momentary wedgie, his most sensitive parts were completely untouched. “H-holy shit,” he rasped, looking down at his unleashed cock.

“Aw, they really did worry you a little bit, didn’t they?” Milan asked. “I told you, just because they’re sexy doesn’t mean they can’t be intimidating. I would bet you that a pretty good number of alpha males would rather flee — or at least fuck — before they’d try to fight haunted boots.”

“Uh…uh-huh,” Andrew said, watching the pair of Blahniks take little teasing steps up to his chest. “Uh…ungh…” His torso tensed against the boots holding him down as the toes of the Blahniks teased against his nipples. “Oh, fuck.”

Now that his manhood was convinced that it was no longer in danger, his cock started to pump itself up again. The Burberry thigh boots treading on his shoulders bent at their ankles and knees, pointing the tops of their shafts somewhere near his head. He realized that if a woman were actually standing in them, she’d practically be in prime face-sitting position. The leather shafts gripping his arms began to ripple and move against his skin, and the Louboutins released his ankles, engaging him in a sort of footsie as they slid their soft insteps against the soles of his feet.

“Hmmm…” Milan smiled, looking down at Andrew’s pumping cock. “Do we have a little submissive streak?” She asked.

“I’m, uh…as surprised as you are,” He said. The glossy white riding boots stepped between him and Milan, walking between his legs and lifting themselves in the air before stepping down again on either side of his crotch. “Good…god,” Andrew said, practically drooling as he watched them cradle either side of his cock.

“I’m not convinced you’re that surprised,” Milan said. “I saw you watching those riding boots from the beginning.” Andrew simply nodded.

“I, uh — might have a little thing for them,” Andrew said, “But I’m certainly being honest when I say that I’ve never really fantasized about riding boots on their own.”

“Maybe when they’re done, we’ll have hit a switch on that one,” Milan said, running a fingertip along her lower lip. Andrew throbbed as the white leather riding boots held his cock between them, pumping his shaft.

“When th-they’re done?” Andrew asked.