It's Magic! Just go with it.

"Denise, what on earth are you doing up there?" Dianne watched as the socks that had just dropped next to her puffed to life, filling out to the shape of Denise's feet.

"Well, like I said, I don't actually have total control over them." Denise felt her jeans playing around with her ass as she spoke with her mother. "They just kind of--" Dianne was hoist into the air by her own jeans, lifting her up into the stairwell to join Denise. "Yeah, they just sort of…do that."

"Well, what are we going to do about this? Have you talked to your friend Adam yet?" Dianne gasped as she felt her ass grabbed. She tried to put her hands against the seat of her pants to stop the groping, but since it was her own jeans doing it and not some substantial invisible hand, she really couldn't stop the fabric. "Shouldn't we be working on getting that magic book back?" Dianne asked. "Between the dancing downstairs and my own pants getting a little inappropriate...it seems like we should be cooling them down, don't you think?"

Apparently the clothing didn't really like that suggestion, because suddenly, Diane was lifted to the ceiling and laid across it, as if gravity had changed direction entirely.

"Mom!" Denise looked up at her mother, whose breasts seemed to be undulating under the **** of her living bra. Dianne cooed, forgetting herself for a second as her panties began to play against her clit. She put her hands up to her chest and sighed, looking down at Denise with embarrassment now.

"Denise, you have to figure out how to stop them! We can't just...ooh!" Now Dianne's jeans popped open. Her fly unzipped, exposing her red cotton panties. “You gotta figure out a way to stop this!" Dianne began sliding across the ceiling, towards the high end of the stairwell and into the hall leading to the bedrooms. She squealed as the **** let her drop from the ceiling just enough to sail through the doorway to her own room. The door slammed abruptly, and now Denise really began panicking.

"You have got to stop this!" Denise cried out. "I thought we had a deal about being nice, and now you're just throwing us around like toys!" Denise tried to steady herself in the stairwell, but reaching her arms out did no good. Now her panties began a full-on **** on her pussy. Her fingers streaked against the walls of the stairwell as her jeans began bouncing her up and down, in perfect rhythm with the pulsating at her clit. She traveled in a sine wave towards the slammed door, reaching her arms out to stop herself before the clothes slammed her into it. They stopped short of putting her against it with any ****, allowing her just enough space to brace herself against the frame as the **** on her midsection continued.

Denise tried to keep herself from making any noises that would give the **** any indication that she was enjoying herself, but this absolute lack of control was more than a little bit exciting. After all, she already knew with these things were capable of — but that didn't stop her from worrying about what was happening on the other side of this door.

In Dianne's room, her mother was suspended in the center of her room, unable to reach for anything thanks to the height of her vaulted ceilings. She watched below as her belongings continued to take shape, crawling out of her dresser drawers, her closet, her laundry basket, and anywhere else her apparel was sitting.

Now her jeans were slowly peeling off her, and one of her nightgowns rose up to meet her. It reached out its sleeves, a move that Dianne reacted defensively to before she realized that they were offering themselves to her. Now her shirt was peeling itself off as well, and she watched her jeans nearly fall to the floor before taking shape and heading to the closed door.

"What…what is it you want from us?" Dianne asked, carefully reaching out to the satin sleeves in front of her after her shirt had departed to join her jeans. The ends of the sleeves puffed up just enough to surround her hands and took hold of them, twirling in a half spin and taking Dianne with them. She bobbed and flowed with the nightgown as her red cotton underwear played against her pussy. "That's…that's…we can't just…" As Dianne attempted to protest against the enchanted clothing, her bedroom door swung wide open.

Behind the hovering nightgown, she watched Denise, absorbing nearly the same activity that Dianne was experiencing.

Denise's ass was suspended in the air, and her denim was clearly moving around her crotch. She let out little sounds of satisfaction as her butt bobbed up and down, and when she opened her eyes to see her own mother, her face flushed.

"M-mom, are you okay?" Denise's living outfit shoved her through the doorway when she asked the question. At the same time, one of the sleeves holding Dianne's hand released her as Denise floated toward them. The empty sleeve grasped Denise's hand, and now mother and daughter were floating with the nightgown in a gentle circle as both of the women were toyed with in their most sensitive areas.

"I'm...fine, honey, but we can't…we can't just let this happen! We have to get some control over these things, don't we?"

Denise looked at her mother and gave her a shy smile, unable to hide her embarrassment.

"I don't know." She couldn't say it and look her lingerie-clad mother in the eye. I don't know if I want control." The moment she said it, her own jeans popped open, and she moaned as her panties pulled up against her clit.

Dianne watched as her daughter's jeans pulled themselves off and filled out to her shape once they reached the ground. Now Denise's jeans were cavorting with Dianne's clothes, which all seemed to be…dancing to a rhythm Dianne couldn't hear.

"But, Denise, do you even know what these things want from us?" Dianne asked. "Where is this all headed? When does it stop?"

Denise licked her lips. She got bolder in the moment, pulling herself toward the nightgown's shirtsleeve and wrapping her arms around the gown's torso. The lower portion of the gown seemed to lift one of its invisible legs, because now Denise had something a little more solid to straddle in the otherwise billowing gown.

"They're our clothes, mom," Denise said, resting her head against the collar of Dianne's enchanted gown as her panties continued teasing her. "And it seems like all they want to do is flirt and play with us. I mean, I didn't think things like this were even possible." Denise's capacity for bashfulness was dissolving in the wake of this impossibility being revealed to Dianne, and she began subtly riding her hips against the ghostly thigh in Dianne's gown. The lewd motion wasn't anything outwardly demonstrative; just enough for her to feel it. "Do you really want it to stop? I don't really know if I do."

Dianne's bra started playing with her tits again as the nightgown's other sleeve let go of her hand. Now she was suspended in the middle of the room clutched by only her underwear. Some part of her wished she could be as carefree as Denise about this whole situation, especially since she really hadn't felt this kind of awe about reality in...longer than she could remember.

There was something amazing about it, but these weren't exactly ideal circumstances. Experiencing this kind of thing side-by-side with her daughter was bound to make her uneasy.

Even if there didn't seem to be anything apparently sinister about the magic's motivations, the fact that she could be lifted into the air and directed around like she weighed nothing at all certainly made her a little nervous.

Maybe she was nervous that it had won over Denise so easily. Maybe she was more nervous about letting herself go and accepting this sudden shift in reality in front of her own daughter. It seemed irresponsible. Still, looking down at all of the animated clothing, the impossible scene, and gravity's apparent loosened grip on her...she wondered if she had a choice in the matter at all. Maybe the best thing she could do was keep calm and not upset this strange, but so far gentle--if not a bit presumptive--****.

Getting a hold of the magic book seemed to be the next logical step, but getting to it--and convincing Denise to help her gain some control over this strange development--seemed to be the more important details.