One last attempt at gaining control...

Brittany looked down at her feet, where her makeup brushes were now gathering.

“No no no no...not that.” She knew she probably shouldn’t have said anything, but they were already gearing up for it. The moment she saw the note, she knew the enchantments were up to something, but…

The first swipe of a foundation brush came at her arch, and she cried out—more in surprise than even any tickling feeling...yet. The next came from a drawing motion on her big toe with a lip brush. She curled against them, trying to hide her feet in the hovering comforter, but the bedclothes simply clamped around her ankle and held out her foot—making every sensitive part of her even more to the hovering instruments.

She saw the bottle again--only because it passed right in front of her field of vision. She was otherwise focused on her feet and whatever else was about to be done to them. She reached out to try and grab the bottle, but the thing was ready for her to try something. It turned right toward her, and Brittany put her hands up in response. Who knew what would happen if she were to get hit in the face with this stuff?

“Easy. Easy. E-ee-hee-hee...” Powder and foundation brushes. Concealer brushes and blush brushes—at both of her feet now.” It was a gentle tickling. Light. Teasing. She braced herself against the bedspread, which seemed to respond by hugging her back a little. Not restraining her—like it had her ankles...but actually embracing her. The mix of tender ministrations and irresistable , along with the fact that she didn’t know exactly where all this was going...it wasn’t simply terrifying her.

“Fuuuuuuck,” She giggled, howling into the folds of the bedspread before long. “Holy fuck. Fuck.” A couple of her brushes were trailing up her legs now, and two more danced away from her feet and rose up to her chest. Brittany bit her lip as she watched them, noticing her hands were still free. She reached out slowly to one of the brushes approaching her chest, and it shifted direction, responding to her reach by playfully dusting her fingers. She laughed, reveling in the attention as she curled her toes and stretched her limbs along the floating comforter.

And the moment she splayed herself—the bottle of Manacite clearly paid attention. Brittany gasped as the cool liquid misted over her body from the neck down. It got her upper arms. It soaked her chest, stomach, and thighs...

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asked, looking down at herself. The bottle approached, and she watched as the nozzle turned itself from mist to a semi-concentrated stream. “Hey—no!” Brittany tried to slap the bottle away, but as soon as she moved her hand to do so, the rest of her limb stopped.

Elbow to shoulder, she was frozen. The rest of her trunk wouldn’t respond either.

“You’ve...you’ve got to be kidding me...” The directions counted for her own body too? Her breasts bounced themselves around, and she could only watch as they danced. She reached with her hands, of course, out of instinct—but her upper arms held them away from her chest.

They seemed to settle after an initial bobbling, and Brittany sighed when she saw them resting in their normal teardrop shape.

But here came the bottle again. Brittany couldn’t really do anything about it now. She had the shorts, of course—but what could they do other than...come back off again?

Brittany tried to reason it out. If they obeyed her well enough to know her unspoken intentions, then…

“I suppose you wanna get the spots you missed?” Brittany asked the bottle. It ‘nodded’, in a way, by bobbing forward and dipping back again. “Then I guess you should unclamp my ankles so that I can get them off,” She said, motioning down.

The bedspread loosened on her ankles, immediately rippling up along her calves, working them over. Brittany cooed a little, trying to maintain focus on her plan.

“Go ahead and slip off again,” She said, directing her words to her shorts. If they spray anything else, all I have to do is claim ownership by commanding it the MOMENT it gets sprayed, Brittany reasoned. That is ALL I need to remember.

Her shorts unbuttoned, sliding down her thighs and over her ankles. Brittany was already getting extra attention from the bedspread on her backside, but she was in the zone.

She only had one second to execute this.

“The vials on my dresser! Now! Grab them like a mitt!” The shorts dashed in, flattening and clamming against themselves just as Brittany pictured. If it was so absolutely specific with just her words…

_One. Keep the rest but put ONE in my left hand. _She still had her elbow. Her manacite-charged upper arm wasn’t under her control, but she still had two articulating joints. As she’d hoped, the shorts seemed to understand her thoughts. Maybe the initial verbal command only served to lock-on to the affected item.

The shorts breezed by, and now Brittany noticed that nothing was really responding to counter her melodramatic command yet. The shorts delivered the vial to her hand without issue, holding the rest as she requested.

All at once, her tits lifted themselves. She squinted when she felt the ghostly pinch on her nipples, watching her breasts betray her as she tried her last attempt to regain control of the situation. The brushes started back up on her feet and the bottle menaced again. She broke open the vial with one hand as if she would an ampoule, pressing her finger against the very edge of the cap and hearing the tiny pop.

Elbow and wrist in one smooth shot, she aimed for the only place she could think of as a last measure.