The enchanted underwear left to return to their owners for whatever purpose the gloves retrieved them.

The empty box sat in front of you, and you heard the front door click shut. You looked out the living room window to see hovering bras and panties, bouncing down the street in different directions. It didn't take you very long to realize they were all headed back to the houses of their owners, intent on accomplishing whatever it was the gloves enchanted the underwear to do.

You thought about following them with the book and trying to fix all of this, but after all that happened, it was kind of beyond your grasp. You hadn't had control of the book from the beginning, and you weren't exactly sure what was going on in the week gap where the house was silent. You were anticipating the return of this powerful, manipulative **** so much that it was able to lead you right where it wanted you again, and this time right off the bat. Now instead of being confined to your house, pulling mischief with you alone--things were getting out of control and actively spreading through the neighborhood.

"You can't just send those things flying all over the place," You call to the gloves, which you don't see anywhere. "I mean, someone's bound to see them!" You feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn around to see a glove wave at you. Its mate is holding a pad with a note written out: ...and do what?

Which...you really didn't have an answer to. What could anyone else do to stop these things? You certainly didn't hold out with much resistance. The glove continued holding the pad as a pen wrote a new note to you all on its own.

Besides, you have plenty of things to take care of in here. You heard the front door bolt. When you turned around you were just in time to see the chain bar rise on its own and slide into place.

"L-like what?"

Mommy's things have been lonely...

The red flats walked out into the hall on their own, and immediately your cock responded as memories from the week before flooded your senses.

The black patent kitten heels followed, sauntering behind and practically putting you to your knees. You just spent the last week looking for this--practically begging for it. Now that it was back...

“Um--wait. This--I mean...it’s getting a little out of hand, isn’t it? Can we just talk about that first?”

More mad scribbling on the pad, and it came back.

Talk? You’d like us to talk, would you? After the note displayed itself for a few seconds, the book appeared again, floating out on its own now. One of the gloves tore another page off the notebook.

We can talk and more. So much more...but you have to follow directions without asking questions.

You hesitated, looking back toward the street. What was going to happen once the clothes returned to their owners? The duly-locked door reminded you that you didn’t have a say in it either way.

The book itself was floating toward you. You had a feeling that it wasn’t going to cooperate with any of your plans to get the situation on even terms; having been missing a week, the book had plenty of time to circulate among many mischievous sets of items. Maybe even others like you.

When the pages fanned open, fluttered and settled, the spell was for vocalization--imbuing that which cannot speak with the mother tongue of the caster.

One final torn note flew in front of you.

We’d like to talk too, honey. We want to tell you all about our plans.