Unintended Consequences

Travis was practically surrounded with living lingerie now. Ostensibly 'fighting them off', Travis had his hands up in defense, which resulted in him gripping a thickly padded black satin bra. He heard a giggle from it.

"Mmm...that's the way, Travis. You know you should just go with this." The voice sounded different from the crimson bra and the jeans. "Your cute blonde friend has the right idea." The jeans from before were grinding against Travis' butt now, and there were a few people filming the scene with their phones now at a distance. He could hear some of them commenting on special effects or marketing blitzes.

"What did you do with her?" Travis whispered to the bra.

"We didn't do anything, hun. She asked her new pajama friends to fly her over to the pantyhose."

"Wh-what's happening to me!?" A woman cried out, splitting the crowd. "I--I can't...control my legs!" Directly ahead of him, there was a pair of black pocketless pants, strutting toward Travis. Behind the empty clothing, a beautiful redhead looking down at her waist, playing at the clasp of her leather skirt as she panicked.

It was the woman from before...the blonde girl's mother!

"Hey--hey, I said stop messing with other people!" Travis said as he watched her step forward against her will. "You can't just puppeteer people like this!" He pleaded.

"Your little friend told us we should introduce ourselves to her lovely mother here," The crimson bra said to him, bobbing a few feet to his side. "It's pretty clear where she gets her looks from, isn't it? Look at those beauties. You think they'd fill my cups?"

Travis watched as the woman's blouse pulled itself open slowly, button-by-button as she was stood in front of him.

She gasped, looking down in horror as her decolletage was exposed by her opening blouse. When she tried to move her hands to stop it, its sleeves fought against her, effectively holding her hands away from it.

Despite this, she was also aware of the young man across from her being assaulted -- sort of -- by hovering lingerie. She looked around for Justine, but couldn't see her hovering above the store anymore.

"At least stop messing with other people like that...please?" Travis asked, the only audible side of the conversation to those around him.

"Are you talking to the clothes?" The woman in front of him asked. "Justine was talking to them too. What did they do with her?!"

"I...I don't--" the young man seemed distracted. "No, that doesn't matter! Can't you see that she's--" He stopped mid-sentence as the redhead's blouse opened the rest of the way. She was stacked. Travis couldn't help but stare at her black lacy bra. Her blouse slid itself up her shoulders and pulled her arms aloft. She squealed as she was pulled back and forth, her massive tits swinging with the motion.

"You want to see those sweater puppies, Travis?" The crimson bra cooed, hovering toward Justine's mother. "Because I wouldn't mind wrapping myself around them."

"Oh, god! My clothes, they're..." Justine's mom looked down at her skirt now, and Travis could see it unclasp itself. "Please...not in front of all these people," she pleaded.

"Oh, is the audience her issue? We can take care of that she doesn't want a crowd." The bra motioned to the cloud of other bras, pants, leggings, and tops surrounding Travis, and they immediately sailed out in all directions, heading for the curious voyeurs watching or filming Travis from the onset.

Most of the crowd scattered accordingly, save a 20-something male and a pair of gawking teenage girls. When a pair of tight blue jeans ran toward the guy, he grinned, putting a hand out and attempting to stop them. They leapt right over it and onto his shoulders, squeezing their thighs around him and finally sending him turning and running once he realized it wasn't just a special effect.

One of the girls watched, laughing while the other was approached by two massive bras in turquoise and white. She reached out to touch a white lace cup of a DDD bra, and it dodged, bouncing to her side as the turquoise bra bobbed over her head and wrapped its band around her, blinding her with the inside of its cups.

"Hey...oh my god! They're actually--they're alive!" She panicked, backing away. Her friend followed to help her.

Everything but the black satin bra and pocketless pants had left Travis alone. He was visibly tenting his pants, watching all the clothes scare away his audience. He even saw the security guard running from the silvery leggings Justine had prodded before she was flown away.

"Wh-what the hell is going on here?" The redhead winced, trying to spread her legs to stop her unclasped skirt from sliding off of her. "How are these clothes doing this?!"

"Tell her you want to see her tits inside me," The crimson bra said. "Tell her how beautiful you think her body is," it teased. "Tell her you want her and her cutie of a daughter to model us for you."

"You're just stripping her in public!" Travis said.

"You ARE talking to them!" The redhead responded. She still couldn't see Justine anywhere. "What did they do with Justine?"

"They...I don't think they're going to hurt anybody, they're just--"

"Maybe we should strip you too," The black bra said to Travis. His pants popped open, and he gasped, looking down at himself. "Would that make you feel better?"

"Are you doing this!?" Justine's mother said. "Are you making them do it?" Her legs were slowly being **** together with her stockings, and she was focused on herself until Travis' pants sailed down his own legs.

Her jaw dropped. Travis' engorged shape behind his briefs was rather clear.

"Oh my god, you're loving every second of this!"

"No, of course I'm not! I'm--come on, they're obviously not listening to me!" Travis pointed at his pants around his ankles. "I've been trying to convince them to stop this whole--"

The redhead gasped, looking down at her waist. Instead of pulling down against her, the skirt she was wearing decided to go the other direction. It puffed up as if gale-**** winds were coming from beneath her, and the hem hiked up, revealing more and more of her stocking-covered thighs until Travis could see her black lace panties beneath the semi-gloss nylon.

"Oh...ohhhhhh, gawd..." Travis watched in awe as the red-haired milf threw her head back. "Th-this can't really be happening..."

"You're not the only excited one, Travis," the crimson bra said. "You should see her panties."

She went up on the toes of her flats, and Travis watched as she tried to **** her skirt back down by hand.

"Enough suspense. Count to three, Travis!" The crimson bra cried. Travis frowned, wondering what was next when he did.

"Out loud," the black satin bra said. "So she can hear you." He didn't respond, and suddenly he felt a tug on the band of his briefs. "Count. Or I'll pull them off of you."

"Come on, I--" The waistband pulled lower. "Wha-one..." Travis corrected, loud enough for the woman to hear him. "Two..."

"Ungh...muh-my stockings! What are you d-do...ooohhh..." Travis was practically spellbound as he watched the woman rise off of the ground, one of her flats dangling from her toes as she lifted into the air. Her leather skirt was ballooned out and upward, her hands grabbing onto the tight material. As she levitated, Travis could see that her skirt wasn't the only thing moving on her lower half. Her pantyhose and underwear were pretty clearly moving against her as well, and now he could see exactly what it was she was reacting to.

"Three..." Travis said with **** dread. The moment he said the word, his gaze jumped from the crotch of the redhead's pantyhose directly to her chest, which was bare the moment Travis finished his count. Her bra had unclasped itself and lifted off of her with enough **** to pull her arms forward. Travis mouthed two syllables as he laid eyes on the glorious sight: 'ma-ma'.

"Oh, Travis...you hound!" The black bra giggled. "You want to play with those wonderful tits, don't you?"

"Mmm...I do!" The crimson bra said. "Should I let you play with them first, Travis?"

"No...my--my..." She covered her chest with her hands as she finally took stock of the situation. "I'm--I'm fuh-flying!!" The redhead moaned, looking down at the ground below her as one of her flats dropped. She was pulled toward Travis by the invisible **** controlling her remaining clothing, and when he tried to back up, he was blocked by the black satin bra and the pocketless pants.

"Where are you going, honey?" The empty bra said as he ran into it. "She's all yours!"

She hovered even higher as her other shoe fell, her toes curling as she drifted closer to Travis. Now she was making sounds that hit Travis less like terror and more like ecstatic disbelief. He looked back up at her with wide eyes. She was holding her tits, drifting toward him with her dangling feet chest-high to Travis. He saw her look behind him, one of her forearms scooping up both of her voluminous breasts as her other hand covering her mouth.

"Mom!?" Justine shouted. Travis made a sharp turn toward the voice, and his jaw dropped when he saw the blonde again.

Now she was wearing the pajamas she'd flown away on--still ballooned out to their exaggerated shape. She appeared to be barefoot at first, but with the context of the figures flying along beside her he could see that she was wearing something sheer, like thick stockings or tights. She was flanked by other hovering forms: translucent, flying ghosts of shapely lower halves in nude and black. A couple more strutted behind her with her former outfit in tow--tight skinny jeans and a t-shirt still filled to Justine's shape.

"J-Justine!" The redhead shouted, clearly blushing at her predicament. "Wh-what are you doing with them?" She asked, crossing both arms over her bare breasts now.

"What am I doing?!" Justine answered, incredulous. "At least I changed in private!" She turned to a pair of empty pantyhose. "This, um, isn't exactly what I meant when I told you to introduce yourselves to my mother..."

"You what?!" The redhead answered. "Justine, are you saying you're the one who told these things to do this!?"

Travis was caught between the two women, still hard as a rock. After the last half-hour of being the center of attention, he was relieved to not be the focal point of this conversation...at least until he saw Justine look down at him, giggling.

"No, mom, that's NOT EXACTLY what I told them to--" She stopped short in her explanation, turning to her other side. "No! That's my mom. Listen, he's cute, but...it's a little awkward, you know? Did you really need to--" Justine sighed, looking back to the stockings on the other side. "Because it IS! I don't care if you're just pantyhose, I shouldn't need to explain why that would be weird!"

"See, she says that," The black bra said to Travis, "but the way all your hearts are thumping right now..." The thing jiggled as it silently laughed, and it finally clicked with Travis as Justine went on responding to articles he couldn't hear.

They were a different set of items, for sure...but it was clear: she was talking to the clothing as well.