The gift of life for all their wardrobe sisters...

The gloves turned to the blouse with their palms up as if to ask what it wanted. The blouse reached out and tapped the screen of the phone, then waved the other sleeve at the basket. The sleeve reaching out toward the gloves pulled on one of them again, gently pushing Diane's bedroom door with its other sleeve and waving at Diane's dressers and half-opened closet.

The gloves understood the message immediately, and hit the screen on to oblige. As Diane's bathwater run in the bathroom behind a closed door, the gloves set the phone on the dresser, floated out to the hall to grab the hamper of dirty clothes, and brought them into the bedroom--placing them in the center of the floor. The gloves grabbed the phone once more, playing James' recording.

"Attrivus Attentum," James' voice said again. The gloves floated over to the closet, playing it again. "Attrivus Attentum." For good measure, they opened each dresser drawer a crack and opened the bottom drawers of Diane's vanity to make sure anything inclined to enjoy the gift of animated life could hear it. "Attrivus Attentum."

As all manners of fabric began shimmying and shuffling, the gloves gave the blouse and executive pants outfit a thumbs-up and a wave--figuring it was time to be on their way.

They were suddenly stopped by a group of Diane's levitating bras. Padded, unpadded...lace, satin and cotton, microfiber, decorative and pragmatic designs alike.

Wondering if they were being challenged, James' gloves protected the phone. One glove lifted it high into the air while the other held up its palm straight in front of the group of ghostly inflated tits as if to say 'stop!'

The gloves realized they'd taken the bras' intentions wrong when a lightly padded, strapless satin black bra pressed a cup against its outstretched leather palm. The satin shifted back and forth against the glove insistently until the leather fingers gave in and gripped it. It wasn't long before a phantom nipple went erect--even showing beneath the padding.

The other glove put the phone down on the dresser again, deciding to join in the fun.

Now James' gloves found themselves rubbing and stroking ghostly forms of Diane's tits--filling out her bras beautifully and clearly ready to play. They took turns on a delicate lacy white bra, a blue corselette bra, and a full-coverage bra in fire-truck red cotton.

All of Diane's underwear began to respond now, wanting soft leathery ministrations from the pair of enchanted gloves that made their will and very pleasure possible. Diane's panties and lingerie began lining up for a turn with them.

Now, though--something else was amiss. James' phone suddenly rose off the dresser by itself and bobbed out of the bedroom--and the gloves only seemed to notice just when the phone slipped out the door.

They held up a finger apologetically, not wanting to be rude to their hosts--but the phone was the point of following Diane all the way home in the first place! They had to go after it. No sooner than they darted into the hall did they see the phone slip into the kitchen.

"Attrivus Attentum." Came the recording again. The phone bobbed toward a window, which opened all on its own. It slipped out into the open air as the window closed and locked behind it. The gloves tried to unlock the thing, but having a life of its own now--even the window was being stubborn--leaving the gloves to find another way to follow.

They quickly headed to the entry, unlocked the apartment door and turned the doorknob, slipping out into the common hall and out the first open window they found to go after the renegade phone. Apparently the effects of the spell were getting stronger--moving beyond James' original applications of using the intended spell on animating some clothing. What a mess!

As the door to the apartment slammed shut again, Diane heard the sound and shut off the tub, listening for any other strange noises.

"H--hullo?" Diane said, naturally a little concerned. That couldn't have been her apartment door, right?

Meanwhile, in her hallway and bedroom--her newly living clothing wasn't sure exactly how they should behave. Diane's bathrobe's first instinct was to go to reassure her, but her work outfit held up its sleeves as if to ask the robe to hold on.

The towels in the linen closet, though--they were just across from the bathroom door, and there was nothing to stand in the way between them and their lovely owner, who might need some drying off...

Diane heard the sound of the linen closet door and gasped.

"Hey! Who is it out there?" She demanded. "I-I'm in the bath!"