Son of a…
This thought, followed by a thoroughly discontented sigh was the only reaction I could manage as my entire lower half jerked forward abruptly. The movement being neither steady nor graceful; rather seemed as if someone grabbed the sides of my open pants and pulled.
In that brief moment when confusion and uncertainty began to settle in, I was reminded of being in school as a child. Gym-class to be specific. Being an overly stubborn girl, I was often taunted into a challenge by the boys. It’s not that I was a tomboy or anything, but being told I couldn’t do something as well as someone else simply because of my gender never sat very well with me. Most often the challenge was a tug-o-war match. Being how I am I accepted despite its usual and inevitable outcome.
I always tried to wrap the rope around my waist like the boys; supposedly doing this, coupled with a particular stance would anchor you from the pull of the opposing side. It never worked quite right for me, every time I would be yanked into nose plant. This sudden pull I felt while inspecting my favorite pair of pants foisted upon me the same feeling of helplessness.
I’d assume that’s why the nostalgic thought sprung to mind in the first place.
As I lurched forward toward the long worktable in front of me, I put my hands out to brace myself as I came into contact with the dense wood. Tools and other odd unrecognizable objects that were strewn about its top rattled and clanged against one another from the impact.
Not even sparing me a moment to think, another more forceful tugging motion loosened my grip on the table; destabilizing me yet again. This time however, the center of the unwanted movement was settled slightly lower resulting in more of a pelvic thrust of sorts. It turned and pulled me away from the table toward the center of the room.
Stumbling now in a clumsy manner, I skidded slightly on my high heels as I came to a sudden stop, ending up just in front of the discarded remains of the once possessed denim bell-bottoms. Unsure if I should be weary of anything more, I held my hands out and to my sides just in case I had to keep my balance again.
Strangely enough, nothing happened. The tension on my pants had completely gone.
Curiously peering downward, I saw my leathers were wide open leaving my underwear on display for everyone who looked my way to see.
My shame though was the least of my worries at the moment; I found my self happier at the fact of whatever supernatural force deemed it fit to yank me about had given up on its odd and seemingly pointless endeavor.
Settling back into my usual posture I looked to Travis who was still lost in thought, completely oblivious to the series of events that took no more then probably fifteen seconds to transpire. I didn’t necessarily mind him not noticing though, if what just happened had been caused by that ghost, the last thing I wanted to hear right now was “I told you so”.
Those four little words were the only thing I hated more then hearing I’m incapable of something due to being female. Unfortunately for me, they usually went hand in hand.
Amidst my thoughts, my attention was promptly re-focused upon the most unpleasant sensation. My thong unexpectedly, and of its own accord wiggled and eagerly wedged as far up my ass as it could. Unlike the previous occurrences, this wasn’t something grabbing hold; my leather thong itself actually began to move and slither the back strap up the crack of my butt. The front creased around my crotch as it gripped tighter, allowing the side straps to climb another half centimeter up my waist and sink in, creating small bulges of voluptuous skin between them and the pants. What panty lines were visible from lifting the tight leather of my pants were gone entirely.
The more I tried to loosen the thong, the tighter it gripped. As if to deploy some sort of defensive response to me, my belt buckle sprung to life and slapped the knuckles of the closest hand to it.
“Ow, you…!” I bit my lip, trying to withhold the outcry of pain come from the twinge pulsing across my hand.
The belt meandered like a snake stalking its prey; it watched me for a chance to strike again.
Unable to stop it, the golden slider of my zipper fidgeted, lifting itself upward on its own and quickly closed. Still keeping watch, the rest of the belt properly adjusted its position with the loops running the outskirts of my waist before both halves came together and buckled firmly.
I started to feel every inch of my now haunted leathers starting to shift at once, contorting and tensing around what I could only assume as the most prominent areas for controlling my movements effectively.
The waistline tightened to the point of causing the pants to sit about a centimeter lower then had, just barely covering my still rather exposed butt crack and thong. The zipper was only able to stay closed now most of the way, I couldn’t tell from the belt obscuring my view, but it didn’t feel like the button was even fastened anymore. Overall it felt as if somehow the ghost was making my pants a size smaller. I wouldn’t be surprising if I couldn’t even fit a finger inside them now to even attempt removing them.
“Hey Travis I’ll be back in a minute, just gotta use the restroom.” I said deciding quickly on a course of action. Not even really waiting to hear his response, I began to run as best as I could toward the flight of stairs Jeanine had led me down initially. She said the bathrooms were on the second floor if I remember right, I thought as I nearly reached the first step before it started to feel like I was wading through water.
My movements slowed to a sluggish crawl, the sound of leather creasing and rubbing against itself became ever more noticeable as the ghost metaphorically put the brakes on me. I was barely even able to lift my legs before I completely stopped.
I couldn’t move my lower half.
“Shit.” I sighed.
“Huh? Did you say something Michelle?” Travis asked, finally coming back to his senses just in time to see my hips start osculating.
It was the strangest feeling I had ever felt, completely helpless, and unable to stop my lower body from moving. My hips shook lithely from side to side, angling my butt outward with a slight wiggle with every pass in the gyration they made. My thighs stayed together for the most part, though my knees down to my feet would take turns daintily bending and extending outward to flare my foot out on my boot heel, ending with a little twist to the side of my entire leg. This alternating dance pattern, coordinated with the swaying of my hips, resulted in a single fluid motion of sexiness.
Travis stood watching with a dumbfound look.
Just when I thought things could get any worse, my legs twisted and spun me toward the long table. I hadn’t noticed but my boots had even tightened, reducing the space within them by at least one shoe size.
The next thing I knew my butt planted itself atop the table and bent me backward so my back was just barely touching down. Gritting my teeth in an angry blush, I watched my legs take turns lifting from the knee up to stick my feet into the air.
After a few times, my haunted leathers pulled me forward, then slid me back into the previous position and started mimicking the same type of movement. Only this time as one leg rose, it would bend over top the other in a crisscross. With the last kick, my legs pulled forward and sat me at the edge of the table before crossing. It felt as though my little peep show had came to an end, but just as I was about to try and move I slid back again and started into lifting my feet into the air in succession once again. As I continued the sensual swaying of my legs became more rapid, until both my legs came together and began making a circular motion with my pressed together feet in mid air.
Frustrated with embarrassment, I went to grab my legs as the suddenly kicked forward, pulling me off the table and back to standing up. Before I could react my hips began swaying and I returned to the dance the ghost originally began with, though this time with more emphasis with the body turn upon my heel as my leg flared outward. This however came to a quick end as I was turned around so that my butt was facing Travis.
My ass began to bob up and down, leading into an overbearing shake from side to side of my butt. Afterward the dance began from the start while keeping my back in view, and every so often ending with a bob and shake of my round ass.
Then…
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