No

"I think I'll leave you to your meeting," Jack said, noticing other things rising out of dresser drawers and hovering out of the closet. He had no idea how these things were being animated, and the boots hadn't exactly taken kindly to being examined. He couldn't help but be curious, but he'd be vastly outnumbered if all the clothing suddenly turned against him.

He closed the door and walked away, wondering if he would think he was imagining the whole thing later. He even glanced back at the room, tempted to check it one more time when he found nothing was coming after him. He continued down the hall, nearly back to his room until he seemed to trip over his own feet. He caught his balance and looked down at himself, confused.

Jack shouted out as something seemed to literally scoop him up by the ass, turn him around, and toss him down the hall. When he made to catch himself, he could feel the shoulders of his T-shirt and his pants both working against his motions. He panicked for a moment until he realized they hadn't dropped him. He was bouncing down the hall on his toes, actually, and he wasn't doing it at all. He drew a jagged, astonished breath as he seemed to do moon-gravity steps back toward the threshold of his parents' room.

The door opened back up on its own, or so Jack thought until he saw the jeans and turtleneck appear from behind it. The turtleneck held out its sleeves, and Jack gasped again as he was shoved forward from all sides by his outfit. Jack stiffened his back and tried to press down with his heels to stop himself. In spirit, he wasn't exactly trying to fight his clothes. It simply didn't occur to his animal mind that his clothing was now calling the shots.

That the clothing was calling the shots.

His T-shirt and jeans shoved his whole body forward. The turtleneck pressed against him, and Jack looked down at the empty collar and the bust of the finely-ribbed sweater, blinking his eyes and holding his hands out to his sides. He still remembered what happened when he got grabby with the boot. The turtleneck wasn't as shy, reaching its sleeves around his waist.

"M-mom!?" Jack cried out as he felt fingers dig into his back pockets, pulling his body closer to the turtleneck and jeans. He looked down in horror as he felt his underwear and jeans expanding around him. He knew the figure he was dealing with wasn't actually his mother, but it didn't stop a panicked Jack from trying to appeal to their maternal instinct, if they had one.

He didn't have to see to know what was happening. His clothes were actually sporting an erection...and it wasn't his! Jack swayed back and forth under the control of his jeans as his mother's empty, well-filled pants rolled their hips against him. The other clothing in the room all seemed to be focused on this interaction, and it was already way too weird for Jack.

"L-let me out of here!" He said, finally working up the confidence to raise his hands to the shoulders of the turtleneck so that he could push it away. The exact moment he raised his hands, the turtleneck's chest swelled to cartoonish proportions, and Jack found himself grabbing handfuls of phantom tit. His jeans burst open, and his underwear pulled themselves down. As soon as Jack reached down to pull them back up, the turtleneck thrust itself forward again, pressing its tits against his face. He thought he was going to fall over, but his T-shirt seemed to hug against him as his jeans and underwear pulled themselves off. His socks remained on, marching him into the center of the room while his T-shirt held him steady over wobbly legs.

Jack tried to get his bearings as he watched his denim jeans right themselves after being pulled inside out from escaping his legs. His briefs seemed to pull themselves up over invisible legs, and Jack's jaw hung open when he saw that the underwear once again conspicuously concealed a phantom erection. The jeans zipped over them, showing the same telltale outline as they inflated. The jeans were wrapped tightly around legs more muscular than his own, and as they zipped themselves up, they approached the hyperinflated turtleneck and pillowy mom jeans Jack had left behind. The seat of the mom jeans began grinding against the erection in Jack's newly sentient pants.

"Holy fuck," Jack murmured, looking down at his own body. He felt silky sleeves against his skin as ghostly hands worked their way over his chest beneath his T-shirt. The leather pants and red silk blouse were behind him, and the pants began pushing their hips against him as the invisible hands at the end of the blouse sleeves teased over his chest. Jack's T-shirt decided to join the rest of his discarded outfit, and sailed over his eyes for just a brief moment. Jack let his arms slack so that the shirt could escape him, mostly so he could bear witness to the invisible digits exploring his torso. Jack was naked now except for his socks, and now his former outfit danced with the turtleneck and mom jeans directly in the doorway to the room.

He could feel the cool leather legs brushing against his thighs as soft invisible fingertips squeezed his pecs and pinched his nipples. In front of him, a shapely pair of pantyhose bulged at the thighs and hips right when he took notice of it. The nylon seemed to be growing tighter around an invisible body, and Jack watched in awe as the crotch became tight enough to cleave between two ghostly labia.

He was almost naked. If he was going to try escaping one more time, he might be able to get away this time. All that was left on him was his socks. But as weird as all this was, he also had second-thoughts about trying to get away again.