Let go of him, but lock him here in the room

(By mariofan of writing.com, edited by Vestiphile)

The satin and brown leather gloves let him go, but the red leather pair quickly darted to the door, turning over the skeleton key inside and locking it. They pulled the key out and dropped it into a pocket of one of the filled out pairs of 'self-fitting' slacks. "Hey! Why are you locking the door?" He asked nervously.

One of the gloves pointed at him, and then pointed at the ground. He took that to mean that they wanted him to stay here. He looked around the room, observing all of the 'self-fitting' brand clothing filled out to the curves of a female form--his mother's, he guessed.

"Well--I'm a little freaked out that you can all, like, move on your own--but it's not like I was going to run out of here screaming." The same pair of gloves shrugged. "So--how is it you're able to do all of this?"

The gloves hovered toward him, and he backed up a bit--expecting to be grabbed again. In fact, all the gloves were doing were showing him the inside of one of their wrists, as the opposite glove pointed a red, leathery finger at the tag.

"I know, I know--'self-fitting'. That new brand mom's been working on. But that doesn't really explain how you can..." John trailed off as the black leather miniskirt approached him. The red gloves seemed to 'align' themselves with the hips of the skirt as if they were being worn by one invisible body. A leather finger beckoned to a white silk blouse in one of the small orbits, and the other pointed to a tan-colored lace bra.

The bra hovered over to the skirt, aligning like the gloves so that the inflated cups were just where he'd expect a woman's tits to be if there were actually one wearing the outfit. The silky blouse followed, pulling itself over the bra so that he could see the lacy cups pushing against the gleaming soft material from the inside. To finish the outfit, a pair of translucent pantyhose walked over.

Even with all the crazy things going on and the novel things John had seen--these pantyhose now had his undivided attention. It was as if the ghostly lower half of a woman was standing in front of him. Shiny, but translucent--soft-looking, but decidedly firm based on the shape they held--John had never experienced anything so inexplicably wonderful. He wanted to reach out to one of the gleaming thighs to see exactly what was inside and how it kept its shape being such a wispy, lightweight article of clothing. For now, he kept his curiosity in check.

John simply watched as the tight leathery skirt hiked itself up (even without assistance from the gloves), and the hose ducked under their hem--deflating a little to fit its shape inside. The leather hem shimmied down again, and John's eyes bulged as the hose inflated again, pushing against the leather and making it creak as the form tightened to accentuated hips once more. He was still admiring the look of the reinflated legs as the outfit stepped closer to him.

A red leather glove caressed John's face. He stood stock still, looking down into the silken collar of the blouse where he could see the back of the lacy bra straps. It was a bit awkward to stand there being touched by these impossibly advanced clothes in his mom's room...but then, she was hundreds of miles away at a conference.

There was no one in these clothes...at all. They were nothing but silky inflated forms with--John gulped--very, very nice looking curves.

"Um...so, now that you know I'm not freaking out--do you have to keep me locked in here?" The red glove moved back to tousle John's hair, and he smiled a bit--unable to help himself. They were nice-looking clothes, after all...and they were being pretty friendly. "I promise I'm not going to run out of the house--or tell anyone about you--I mean, if that's what you want."

Both leather gloves cupped under his cheeks now, and the outfit leaned in toward him. When the gloves released him after a moment, they pulled his body into a hug. After a moment of hesitation, he returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around the empty blouse. He squeezed gently at first--not wanting to 'hurt' or otherwise violate the delicate the hovering clothes--but when the silky sleeves wrapped around him tighter and somehow retained the joints and arm-like shapes that seemed to fill them, he squeezed back like he would if he were embracing a person.

The spread of the outfit pressed against his chest, and however insubstantial the inside of the clothing was, the forms inside still seemed to compress and displace themselves upward. John was now close enough to look straight down into the collar and see the inside of the bra cups pushing against his body as he held the hug--returning the gesture as long as the outfit was. He could see his hands pushing into the silk at the back of the blouse, but his fingers sank only so far--as if there were real invisible flesh pushing back against his grip.

He was momentarily distracted by the brown leather gloves flying from behind him, over his head and toward the slacks from before. They dug out the skeleton key from the pocket, bobbing back to the mortise, inserting the key and turning it once more. To John's relief, the door clicked open.

His attention came straight back to the embrace of the outfit in front of him when he felt the gloves moving lower, both of them under his shoulders, down his back, and teasing along the backside of his hips. He gapsed a little when the gloves gave his butt a gentle squeeze.

"Uh--uhm...thanks," John said, stuttering as the leather fingertips played over the seat of his jeans. "I--I mean for unlocking the door, of course." The silk collar seemed to bow a little toward him as if pantomiming a 'yes', but the outfit's gloves didn't retreat. "So...um--now that you've got me here, and we've established a little, um, trust..." John swallowed hard again, "Do you mind if I ask some more questions?"

The gloves at his butt didn't let up, but in the background the brown leather pair made both a thumbs-up with one hand and an 'okay' sign with the other.