Out the Window

Your own clothes were standing over you, and there were too many of them to run or overpower even if you weren't trapped in your coat.

“Okay,” you say. “You caught me.” The coat wiggled a little, then hugged you before unzipping, letting you out on the bed. You clung to the book now. Denise was still in trouble, and you were trapped here with your clothes. “S-so…”

The jeans you'd taken off earlier were standing before you, attached at their waste to the long-sleeved shirt you just dodged. When the outfit leaned over and reached a sleeve to the book, you resisted, feeling the thing being pulled away from you.

Trying to pull the book away from the enchantments, you gasped as your own athletic pants shimmied down your thighs.

“Whoa--no fucking way…” You let go of the book as you looked down at your underwear. They were moving. “Hey...suh-stop…” You could see the fabric moving on its own, teasing your cock even as you covered the area with your hand. “Yo, that's way beyond creepy…” You look up at your other clothes, which still seem to be watching you.

One spell? All from one spell? You couldn't believe your senses when your jeans started standing and walking on their own, but here were a whole room of your clothes, standing over you.

“I--I need that book,” you say to the outfit holding it. “I don't know what...you want, but maybe we can make a deal.” Part of you was laughing at yourself in your mind. Were you really trying to negotiate with magic clothes?

Suddenly, your underwear cradled your balls as if a hand was gently grasping you from outside the thin cotton layer. Your breath quickened, and you let out an uneven sigh as another invisible hand grabbed you flaccid shaft in the front.

And still, the clothes made no move. They watched your underwear grope you as you tried to make sense of any of these developments.

Was this...an answer to your request?

“Hey, hey--come on,” you say, trying to grab the negative space where the cotton briefs were pressing into your flesh. It looked like invisible hands, but there wasn't anything for you to grab. No, the underwear themselves were groping your dick. So when you next tried to pull them down by the waistband, you were met with yet another surprise.

“Wh-whoa…” As soon as you felt the fabric of your briefs dart between your asscheeks, it was enough for you to let the underwear go. The moment you eased back, so too did the threat of experiencing rear-entry by the seat of your own skivvies.

Instead, the attention at your butt became a gentle massage to one cheek, and a teasing grab to the other. You moaned a bit, half-whining again for the clothes to stop their …

But while your mind and mouth worked overtime trying to negotiate with bodiless captors, the exact opposite end of your spinal chord was humming a different tune entirely.

Another moan. You couldn't help it. Your briefs inflated a little now, and suddenly the outline of a hand was on the *inside* of your underwear. Instead of cotton, there was a tingling warmth--almost like flesh, but without any of the identifiable textures of a human hand. It felt...better than that.

You were hard. There was that. You probably should have been more scared of the enchantments standing over you, and you still wanted out, but...what could you do? You literally tried throwing yourself from a second story window, and their answer was more restraint with a side of cock-tease.

And then it hit you. Denise. She needed your help.

“Ungh...are...are Denise’s clothes doing this to her?” You find yourself rocking with the rhythm of the invisible hand pumping you. Your clothes seem to be standing more at ease now--not looking as ready to pounce as they had.

Did the long-sleeve shrug at you? You couldn’t get a feel for their intentions in communicating with you--other than what was happening with your underwear.

“Keep the book,” you say. “And you can even, like...let them keep doing that,” you motion to your underwear, giggling a little as fingers traced over your balls. “But Denise sounded like she was in trouble, and I can’t just stay here if she’s...if--” You were interrupted by your sheets, the fitted one beneath all your bedding popping off the corners of your mattress.

You looked up nervously as all of your clothes backed away a step. You stared at your outfit holding the book, watching one sleeve hold the book open to a page while the other waved at your bed.

“No, wait!”

All four corners upturned, and you felt yourself thrown skyward. The bedding whipped in a frenzy, spinning around your body and coccooning around you, leaving your face open as the bedding carried you toward your bedroom window.

“You’re not really gonna...hey? Hey! No!” You shouted as your long-sleeve shirt slid the hems of its sleeves around the grips and pulled the window up. “Don’t fucking fly me outside! I’m not even dres--ungggghh...” The stroking in your underwear returned anew, and you watched in horror as your own outfit folded its arms in the sill, waving a sleeve at you as the other still held the book.

And suddenly you could look down at the evening neighborhood. Once you were outside the shutters, you were too terrified to make a sound, though a soft wince from you now and again came out as the result of an aching cock.