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Chapter 6 by TheCanadian TheCanadian

What's next?

Resist at all costs!

"N-no..." you said, trying your hardest to summon up any willpower you had.

The ballroom gloves dropped the sign. The slip of paper fell to the floor as the gloves tossed the book at you. When you tried to catch the book, it fanned open, presenting you with a page. You tried to grab at the book, but it kept dodging your motions. You knew the enchantments wanted you to read from the book, and they weren’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. As you swatted at the book, the ballroom gloves seemed to rest themselves against a pair of invisible hips. They looked disappointed in you...and that was even weirder when you realized the body language was similar to your own mom’s.

With their hands still pressed to unseen sides, the gloves paced back and forth. When they stopped, as if having decided on something, the hair at your nape stood firm. The gloves waved a 'come here' gesture to the vanity.

Two opposite drawers opened. A pair of purple panties flew out of the top left drawer, and a pair of shiny black metallic stretch spandex leggings ballooned out of the bottom left.

“No, no, no..." was all you could mutter, over and over again.

The fifth pair of rubber gloves had been teasing just over your cock, but now they left it stranded. One of them pressed down in the center of your chest while the other clamped snugly to your neck. The others kept up their massaging palms and fingers.

Your eyes followed the hovering purple panties to the side of the bed. You try to sit up, but all at once, the ten lubed rubber hands clamp down on your upper body, showing you how little effort it takes to stop you. Many hands make light work…wasn’t that a phrase you’d heard her use? It was so eerie--your mom’s touch in each of the ghostly, slippery gloves--but the impassioned, forceful will of some other creature--some other energy.

You made no further attempt to sit up when the rubber gloves went back to their calm massage, but as you saw the violet panties hover toward your feet, a pair of tightly-filled, worn nylons lowered their translucent tan peach to your face. You were smothered by the crotch of the pantyhose, breathing through it and struggling to get up again. The scent of the worn hose invaded you, and much as you tried to ignore it, now the latex gloves clamped down everywhere, holding you still.

Even as they held you, they were busy pulsing your flesh between their slicked, rubbery fingers. Sensing your reaction to your **** facesitting, the fifth pair finally descended on your cock--one of the gloves cupping your balls and teasing as the other stroked your hard-on.

You barely noticed your underwear slip off your feet. You certainly didn’t see the purple panties slide up and replace them until they were well past your knees. As they slid up the rest of the way, the spandex leggings soon followed--and each of the pairs of latex gloves left your legs and crotch as your mom’s enchanted clothing **** itself onto you.

When the panties and spandex leggings in place, you looked down to see the clothing wiggling against your cock--which seemed happy to get the attention whether it was from gloves of soft, microfiber underwear. What were these things up to? What could they possibly have in mind next?

What's next?

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