Used underwear from women around the neighborhood.

You looked inside the box, seeing a few shopping bags. You look inside one of them to find...

“...Panties?” You mutter. You hold the pair up with two fingers and study it, looking back at the box. There’s more in the shopping bag you pulled form and more bags inside, to boot. You go back to the bag you grabbed from, pulling it out. You wondered if these were new underwear, dumping the bag.

“Whoa,” you said. “All kinds of women’s underwear.” Some were a little faded, and while you smelled detergent in the air, there was something else too. You took a pair of deep red panties and held them close to your face, smelling.

Your dick perked. They were worn...and they were fresh. As you began to ponder where all these underwear came from, there was a light tap on your shoulders. You looked behind you to see the white leather gloves. They were carrying a pen and a pad.

“I--I wasn’t sure I’d say this, but...I’m glad to see you,” You admit, a little nervous around the living objects again after a week of life returning to normal.

They quickly wrote a message on the pad and showed it to you in ornate, whorling script.

Cum in the box, Splatter all over the underwear. Then cast the spell you used to bring us to life.

“Whoa, whoa--don’t I deserve an explanation?” You ask, chuckling at the living gloves. “Whose underwear is all this?” You picked up a couple more pairs of panties in black and pink, noticing that they were different sizes. One by one, you emptied each of the shopping bags into the box and started to carry it to your room. The gloves followed after you, scribbling on the pad.

After you and the gloves entered your room, another tap on your shoulder. You turned to see another message.

You’ve mixed them all together! We had them sorted by body type and were going to let you pick a favorite. T

“A...favorite?” You ask. “For what?” The gloves had finished writing another message.

These underwear belong to women all around the neighborhood. We made sure to pick from the most fertile and best looking!

You sighed as you thought, That makes up for most of the women around here. Sure made early puberty into a virtual hell… You imagined every female in neighborhood you’d even given a second thought to. The girl who used to babysit you, your mom’s stacked latina friend down the street, the young professional who’s always running in tight, shiny spandex early on a weekend morning…

Something about the wording of the note stops you, though. What exactly is going to happen here?

“What do you mean fertile? I don’t think I want to be part of this plan.” The gloves had already been writing this time, almost as if they knew my objection beforehand.

Not fertile for you, stupid boy. Fertile for us. Now cum on this gift we brought you, and we’ll make it worth your while.

You look back at the box nervously. There had to be a few dozen pairs in there. Fifty total--maybe more?

“Uh...so do do I cum over each one or does it not matter?” You ask, hoping that acting cooperative will win you information. You start to undo your pants, but the leather gloves slap your hand away and sensually work over your waist, teasing along the edge of your stomach and slowly undoing your pants.

This is what you’d been waiting for--this ghostly, unknown **** living in your mom’s clothes. The fact that they brought underwear belonging to several different women had your mind racing. Was there some secret to this--some aspect you didn’t understand?

Once your pants were down, one of the gloves flew back to the pad while the other peeled down your underwear and gripped your cock.

All you need to do is cum for us, honey. We’re going to take care of everything else. Are you going to cum like a good boy?

“Uh-huh,” you moan, “As long as you’re giving hand like that I am.”

You sighed as right-handed glove of the white leather gloves began its buttery-soft handjob. The other glove put down the clipboard and pen before it flew off. It soon came back with the spellbook and let the book open to the page with the spell.

You raised an eyebrow as you thought, Wonder if the book is sentient as well?

With the spellbook ready in front of you and the white glove working your throbbing cock, you marveled at the smooth, empty hand. Since you read the spell, any time this **** was present, it seemed only to want to **** pleasure upon you. It started by breaking your resistance to some pretty red-letter taboos right away, but now you weren’t sure where this was going.

The glove not stroking your cock shows you another note.

Read it while you come on them.

It’s almost as if the gloves can sense that you’re about to come. The pad hovers in the air by itself, and the glove scrawls the letters L-O-U-D on the paper. You’re not inclined to disobey.

You bellow the spell as you cum into the box, but something else happens. The right glove pumps you for your cum, but the left one drops the pen and paper, spreading its fingers as it sails over the jet of spooge sailing through the air. Even in your moment of release, you see the strangeness in front of you--your semen is suspended in the air.

When the flow stops, the right glove joins its partner in the air, and the two of them begin articulating their fingers and twirling their wrists, performing a series of intricate motions together. You’re still panting from your orgasm as you watch your cum stretch into long lines, turn, and stretch again. It looks like a sorta gross cotton candy, which makes your face twist a bit.

You’ve got no idea what’s happening here, but the focus no longer appears to be you. The book is hovering in the middle of the room, and the gloves are still weaving madly as the spun cum hovering in the room turns finer and thinner--becoming translucent and gossamer.

Suddenly the book slammed shut, and one of the leather gloves grabbed it. The other glove flicked a finger toward the gossamer spool of your own magically spun fluid, and part of the mass broke off, glittering as tiny pieces of the magically manipulated cum drifted down through the air to the box of underwear.

Now the white leather glove made a swiping motion, and a slice of the spool came off, falling slowly. With the flick of another leather finger and a flourish of the glove, the slice shattered into a mist and wafted out of your room, heading down the hall.

You follow the mist out the door, watching it float into your mother’s room. You stand in the doorway, turning back to the gloves and walking back in toward them.

“What are you doing with my...cum?”

The glove hovered under what remained of your spun cum, flying out of the room with it along with the book clutched in the hand of the other glove. Whatever was next, they didn’t want you to know. As you were about to follow, your bedroom door slammed shut. The lock popped itself in, and you knew before you even grabbed the knob that you wouldn’t be able to move it a millimeter.

You were left in your room, alone with the box of now-twitching women’s underwear. You stepped toward the box.

“Uh…hello?”

The underwear burst out of the box, surprising you into a retreat. You took a few steps back, closed your eyes, and put up your arms up in protection. When the moment passed, you unshielded yourself and took in the sight.

There were panties in lace, satin, cotton and microfiber. There were petite padded bras puffed out to cute B cups, sheer and microfiber C and D cups, some padded and others filled with the shapes of their owner’s phantom breasts--but front and center were a couple of show-stoppers: a silvery satin full-coverage DD-bra filled with gorgeous, bouncing breasts, and an impossibly-sized red sheer G-cup, swaying with the fluid mass of the tits that would be filling it.

You think let out an audible moan, unable to help it as you lay eyes on the panties. More often than not, the bras are paired to matching panties, filled to the shapes of the women who broke them in. There are tight, petite butts; there are slender, athletic asses and smooth. full-figured asses. The red sheer booty swaying beneath the ghostly G-cup tits was particularly eye-catching--you were trying to get a sense of the woman that would be filling them. The curves were massive, but smooth and tight.

The sets began surrounding you, some of them turning around and waving their rears at you, while others swelled and tightened with visible cameltoes.

“So, uh...how’s it going, ladies?