Ghostly Aftercare

Dianne and Denise came in the same room, looking across at each other from time to time, both of them attempting to hide the fact. For Dianne it was mostly parental concern...for Denise, it was partly curiosity about her mother's mental reconciliation of this bizarre situation, and partly guilty concern that came from the fact that her involvement was pretty much Denise's fault. The experience had been absolutely decadent as far as Denise was concerned, but she tried not to be too conspicuous about how pleased she was by how the evening turned out. As for Dianne, she'd never come for her ex-husband Keith quite like that. Even in wilder years she never remembered a sexual release so complete.

The fact that she was **** into this position in front of Denise would have been more than embarrassing had her daughter simply been a passive observer, but Denise was caught up in the magical **** just as completely. They were both made into toys...mother and maiden made sexual slaves to this unknown ****, and Dianne didn't feel as if she'd been put through something hellish or degrading, though her own echoing guilt about her total abandon made her feel like maybe she should've.

When they both came together, there was a strange humming silence. Dianne remembered watching Denise in a strange ecstatic throe, her limbs spread as she rose toward the ceiling. There was a strange electricity between Dianne and her dominatrix outfit when she came, and the grip of it--its sensation and its insistence--seemed to give way to something gentler.

It simply held her. Dianne felt almost weightless in its arms, and however odd the situation, there was something comforting about the sudden shift in the room's energy. She wondered if their release would be the end of this strange escapade, but the clothing in the room stayed upright, remaining filled to their haunted curvatures. They were calmer, though--less active--and they seemed to focus their attention on either Dianne or Denise.

Dianne watched as puffy flannel sleep pants stepped in from the hall. She recognized them as Denise's. One of her daughter's spaghetti strap camis floated in behind it. Dianne was interrupted in her observations only when her own set of satin pajamas brushed a sleeve against her cheek.

Denise laughed, drifting toward the floor again as her enchanted flannel and cami placed themselves on her body. She looked over at Dianne just in time to see her mother slip off of the strap-on, the latex gloves still holding her in their arms as her own satin pajamas found their way onto her body.

"Ooh! Oh..." Dianne cooed, feeling the clothes softly taking control of her limbs. Dianne could feel the satin moving itself over her skin, starting as a caress over her thighs and forearms, but pushing against her with more pressure against her shoulders and her calves...like it was massaging her. Denise was reclined in her outfit when one of her mother's half robes in red terry opened up, presenting itself to her. Denise put her arms behind her as the robe covered her bare shoulders, slowly wrapping around her body. Dianne watched as she smiled, snuggling against the embrace by folding her arms over her chest as the terry sash tied itself.

The domme outfit walked away from Dianne now, heading toward the master bathroom. It went around the corner, and both of the women looked at each other as the water turned on. Denise finally broke the silence.

"Mom…are you all right?" She whispered. Dianne nodded, trying to keep a neutral expression. She didn't want Denise to worry, but she also didn't want to appear to give tacit approval of what had just happened. However intriguing the skills of her magically-possessed fetish wear were, the last thing she was going to do was admit to her daughter that it was the best she'd ever been fucked.

"How about you?" Dianne asked. "Are you okay?" Denise apparently had no such reservations, because the nubile girl practically beamed a grin toward her, nodding. "Denise, we have to do something about this," Dianne said, looking around at the other clothing. She didn't care if they could hear or understand her — the point was that whatever her daughter did, it was obviously the cause of this. For now, this strange **** was being 'nice' enough, if not totally inappropriate, but what if it suddenly wasn't? Did it have longer-term plans? Dianne had to have answers now. Denise nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Okay, you heard her," Denise said aloud, looking around the room. "You got your playtime, so maybe you can cooperate with us now?" Dianne's robe squeezed against her like a hug, and Denise took this as an affirmative response. "I need to talk to Adam. Can I have my phone back?"

The sheer number of invisible figures filling clothes around the house made Dianne a little nervous. Most of the ones here in the room seemed to be paying attention to her and Denise, but she knew there were still others in Denise's room, in the hall, probably in the guest room since she'd seen her old wedding dress, and of course some downstairs. She hoped none of them ventured outside...this situation was complicated enough without her having to explain it to her neighbors.

"You know, you were grounded," Dianne said. It was a total afterthought...and with Denise being eighteen and nearly graduated the idea was more a symbolic restriction than anything else. Still, given that the two of them were literally hanging out, subject to supernatural forces she couldn't comprehend, she decided to press her daughter on the topic. "What was Adam doing over here?"

"He...wanted to show me that book," Denise shrugged. Dianne rolled her eyes.

"Uh-huh." One of her business casual outfits approached from the hall, carrying something. Or...seeming to carry it, at least. The teacup was steadily hovering at the end of a cream blouse's sleeve, and the blouse was attached — tucked in — to a pair of dark brown khakis. Dianne couldn't help but notice the blouse's anatomical accuracy in the chest...owing, she assumed, to the fact that there was no bra beneath the thin fabric? Dianne hovered just a little lower as the outfit approached her with the teacup. "Huh," Dianne couldn't help but smirk. "That's…herbal, I take it?" She inhaled the scent of chamomile, watching the blouse's collar nod at her. "That's…pretty thoughtful, actually. Thanks." Dianne took the teacup, and her hovering pajama sat her up to put her in a better position to drink from it.

Denise's jeans and T-shirt — the same outfit she was wearing when Adam had read the spell earlier that day, and the one that stripped off of her body in front of her mother — entered the room. Despite the T-shirt's short sleeves, it was carrying something at an arm's length that only took Denise a second to identify.

"There it is!" Denise said, reaching out to it. "Finally, thank you!" Denise was gently turned upright the same way Dianne had been as the phone glided into her hands. "See?" Denise looked at her mother. "They can be totally helpful when they want to be. They kind of were earlier before you got home...and actually, if I think about it, they were taking all kinds of directions when I was trying to get a handle on what they could do."

"It's very nice of them to oblige," Dianne said, raising an eyebrow at Denise. "But now that you have the phone, isn't there something you should be doing while we're enjoying this...cooperation?" Dianne said the last word through gritted teeth. Denise nodded.

"Right! Right. Doing it right now," She said. Not bothering to text, she called Adam immediately.