More and more onlookers are brought into the fun whether they want to or not.

"Justine, come down from there! You might get hurt!" Travis watched as the attractive redhead followed her daughter through the store. The crowd let out audible gasps as the clothing spread its attention on Travis to a few others. Justine hugged the satin pajamas tight, keeping her legs loose and her body ready for anything. There was an exhilarating, freeing feeling surging throughout her body, but it wasn't without apprehension. The wisdom of her mammalian senses had turned her into a cauldron of adrenaline; her animal mind was attuned to the fact that gravity was still in effect. For some reason, though, she had faith she was in the good graces of the animating her soft, bouncy flying companions. She sensed it.

"I don't think they're gonna hurt me!" Justine called down to her mom, hugging the pajamas tighter. "You're not, are you?" The pajamas inflated even more and hugged her back with soft, billowing sleeves, rocking gently back and forth. Just then, Justine felt her jeans tighten around her butt. She gasped. "Whoa--was that you?" She whispered, smiling. "Do it again." The denim squeezed against her ass, creasing tighter between her cheeks and working her thighs. Justine wrapped her legs around the silk pajamas as her toes curled inside her sneakers. She reached lower around the pajamas' back, grabbing the plump, silken butt.

Justine saw onlookers filming with cell phones as she sailed over the store. Her mom was still running behind, calling to her as she tried to shove through the crowd of people and clothing.

"Maybe she'd cool off if you showed her how much fun this is," Justine whispered to the red satin collar. She heard a shriek, and when the satin outfit turned her around to fly her back toward the crowd, she saw her mother's leather skirt inflating. It looked something like a shiny, wobbling barrel--the hips and thighs were puffed out while the waist and hem held tight cylindrical shapes. Her mother was pushing down on the skirt with her hands even as it lifted her right off the ground, leaving her legs to dangle and drop her black heels. The shoes not only landed gracefully, but proceeded toward the nearest man, who understandably backed away at first, but slowly took a closer look at the animated shoes.

"Wha--what's happening to me?!" Justine's mom held her arms out as she witnessed her blouse inflating before her eyes. It was like something was filling her clothes with air--or helium? The pajama set Justine was riding flew her near her suspended mother.

"I dunno--not even sure where to start!" Justine looked in her mother's panicked eyes. "I know it's crazy, ma--but does it really look like these things are going to hurt us? Look!"

All around the store, people were staring at the playful, cavorting clothes. Some of the animated wearables were being a bit more assertive than others, but even where people were rushing away in a panic, they were either chased away, or tangled up in living clothes, at worst.

More visible were the collection of people that couldn't hold back their curiosity. The store clerk who saw the magically suspended bras bugging Travis from the beginning was now brave enough to glide her hands over a red satin chemise, pressing hard enough to feel the give of the emulated flesh beneath. She scooped both hands under the invisible breasts and squeezed them, smirking a little when the chemise reacted.

She wasn't exactly ready to feel the same kind of exploration on the part of her own clothes, but her polo shirt and bra seemed to do just that, pressing into her chest with the shape of invisible hands, groping her just as she'd done the sleepshirt. She pulled her hands quickly away and stepped back to find the chemise swaying closer to her, jutting out toward her and inflating its chest as if to ask for more.

The man who took an interest in Justine's mother's self-walking shoes had followed them right into hosiery, where a brown translucent pack tore itself open. The shapely legs and hips strutted out instantaneously, plumping like an emergency raft and settling its shiny nylon feet inside the shoes. The man could only watch in awe as the ghostly legs and hips sauntered slowly over to him.

"J--Justine?" Justine's mom looked down at her body as her clothing groaned and popped. Her skirt was tight as stretched canvas, its smoothed leather gleaming like onyx in the fluorescent light. "I--I don't want these things to burst!"

Justine looked back to see her mother nervously hovering in the bubble of her outfit. Her blouse and skirt looked four or five sizes too big for her with the way the were stretched, and as she felt a soft sensation descending her legs, she realized her dark pantyhose were inflating as well.

"Hey--don't leave my mom naked up here," Justine chided the outfit. Justine's mom made a face when she realized her daughter was talking to the clothes themselves.

"Justine, you're--talking to them?" Her mother stuttered. "Are you helping this happen somehow?" Justine's face turned a little red as she took account of her own excited reaction from the outset. This was magic by every storybook account of the word, and Justine had jumped in as if it were all a dream.

She wasn't going to offer this admission to her mother, but the giddiness that she was feeling being flown around the store by snuggly, silky sleepclothes was going well beyond her innocent sense of fun. The moment her harmless dance transisted to flight, she felt a stirring within her, an impulse begging her to grasp this magical dance uninhibited. When she coiled her legs around the silky flying pajama pants, she felt it even more.

When the denim in her own jeans took to hugging her with the same playful warmth as the pajamas, it was clear she was dealing with a whole different kind of fun. She wasn't just excited to see what the clothing would do next; she was actively hoping they were going to be bolder--more mischievous.

With the giant living brassieres, the soft, billowing fabrics and their penchant to entice those more curious than afraid, they seemed to be getting naughty...and the faint, but growing feeling between Justine's legs made her hope they'd be getting naughtier.

Maybe she was helping all of this along by encouraging it, but as far as she knew, she wasn't the source. From what she saw when this whole thing started, it was...

Justine turned back to see Travis, still trying to fight off the bras. He was surrounded, but he kept finding a route to slip away for a second before being deluged and sandwiched by the flying invisible curves occupying the haunted clothing.

"It looks like they mostly want him," Justine said, pointing Travis out to her mom, "but from what I see they're happy to play around with anyone willing..."

"Willing?!" Justine's mom sounded, staring her in the eye.

"Well, mostly--I told them to show you that they weren't going to hurt me--to show you what flying was like." Justine smiled sheepishly. "It's...exciting--right?"

"You told..." Her mom's face twisted to disbelief. "You mean these clothes are listening to you, Justine?" Her daughter's face reddened a bit more as Justine nodded.

"I guess...a little?"

"Well, tell them to put your mother down...!"