(<75)Jen thinks it's too much.

"That's more than I can bear. Sorry, but hearts, ribbons, teddy bears... too much is too much!"

"But we're playing a game, aren't we? Alright. I have a deal. You take one dress at random from these hangers... No, don't look at them just yet... and then we'll go away from this horribly cute closet and I won't bug you about it ever again. Plus you get not walking around a supposedly public place with your sexies out in the cold."

This sounded fair. The girl frowned under the mask, trying to come up with something better, but just could not find a more sensible option. She did suspect that the voice knew something she did not, but there was nothing to prove that. Furthermore, complex face expressions were uncomfortable to make as the mask was only fit for simpler ones on the inside.

"Deal. Alright, let's get this done quickly." — Jen stretched her hand out and pulled one dress off its hanger and under the light. Pure random. Judging by the touch and the smell, the garment was made out of thick, heavy, highest-quality latex, but it was now time to examine it through the lenses.

It was, of course, screaming pink, but there were more interesting features in it. Its mid-calf length skirt featured many soft petticoats that were expanding like pudding right as Jen was holding them out in the air. The top part consisted of a built-in overbust corset that also sported the most amount of ornamental decorations that were almost hiding the vertical ribs that were definitely made of metal. The laces on the back were quite loose, but the girl failed to find the knot or a loose end in them.

"Whatever. It's not like I'm gonna tighten them anyway."

The latex sleeves were a separate story all by themselves. They had some extra ruffles in the elbow part, designed to cover the material thickening that was designed to prevent the wearer from bending their elbows more than by a few degrees. Narrow wrists continued into gloves that were made out of a different, harder material. While they had each finger separated, their movement would also be reduced severely.

"So I won't be able to pick up things? I don't like this."

"We had a deal. Put it on down to each petite finger of yours. You will be the cutest and most **** anime princess of all time!"

"Hey. I'm not doing this. I won't even be able to get out of it on my own!"

"Then you're a lying lil' pussy! Can't even keep your promise to yourself that you made, like, minute ago!"

Jen kept staring at the dress. She did gamble for that. She had to own it now. Besides, it was going to look so damn beautiful on her! She kind of wanted the ride, and she was kind of obliged to.

The girl grabbed the wide round cleavage of the dress and stepped inside without catching onto anything. Same went for the second high-heeled shoe of hers.

{If Insanity <65}"Am I really doing this? Am I gonna trap myself in it?" — Jen took a moment to come to the terms of it and suddenly rose her plastic head as she was struck by a bright thought. — "Or am I already trapped?"

She dropped the dress and tried to take off her mask. Her forceful effort and her muffled grunts had no effect at all and she started to search for a release button under her hair. Instead, there was a metal slab connecting its two halves. Her fingers found a keyhole in it, and that was enough to prove her right.

"It's one of these fetish devices that lock themselves." — A sigh of acceptance whooshed through the nostrils in the mask Jen's head was trapped in. — "Well, shit. Seems like I can't free myself without assistance already, so might as well take it to the next level."

"Yes. No need to cloud yourself with guilt. Enjoy it instead."

The sleeve was lubricated by some other caring hands, and Jen felt the latex slipping onto her arms without much resistance, nice and easy. Of course she wanted it, just not so wholeheartedly. And the dress wanted to be worn too.

{else}"Am I really doing this? Am I gonna trap myself in it and become so much cuter? It's so irresponsible, and that... that makes it even more fun."

Her words were supported by actions this time. She saw her hands raise the dress' shoulders and slide inside the sleeves that were lubricated by some other caring hands. As her fingers reached into the strict gloves smoothly, the entire dress was mostly set where it belonged. The dress wanted to be worn too.{endif}

"Wowie! Try wiggling your fingers!" — the voice said. As the girl confirmed that she could barely move them inside the gloves, it cheered her up. "This is appropriate. A princess' hand is to be kissed, not to be labored."

When a rogue curl of hair fell in tront of Jen's eyes, she reached to brush it aside, but had to use her entire unbending elbow instead. She was truly helpless inside this dress!

Suddenly, Jen felt compression over her torso. She could not see it, she could not touch it, but it was still clear that the corset's laces were tightening on their own, as if the steel bones' weight was concealing the real trap that has now sprung. But she could only rub her big pink skirt with her gloves.

"Nhuuuhw!" — The conflicting feelings clashed together as hard as ever. By the time the tightening stopped, Jen felt both helpless and mighty, both burdened and light as a feather, both hopelessly stuck and free as never before. The corset squeezed her tightly and evenly, taking a large portion of breath but granting the superability to get her skirt move up and down with each slightest hip movement. She and the dress became one, and her new feelings were taking her mind by storm.

"I love it! I'm so ****! I'm so sexy! I'm so horny!" — feeling that her knees were about to betray her, Jen leaned onto the wardrobe's open door. The mask and the dress were separate things but worked as an ensemble seamlessly. Each next second inside her snug mask and tight dress were building up warmness and realization that there was still some freedom that her outfit was stripping her of. The freedom of will.

It popped like a string. Unintelligible noise filled the mask as a devastating orgasm pulsed through Jen's body, completing her enslavement by her own clothes and finalizing the release of the last of her reason from her mind. From now on, there was only her feelings. And the voice.

***

The girl had a lot of difficulty with rising from the bottom of the wardrobe. Her skirt helped with preventing bumps from all the footwear she fell over, but she could not see anything even after regaining fragile balance granted by her heels. She pushed the closed wardrobe doors, but they refused to give in so easily.

"Let there be pink, not black."

Kicking the door with her shoe worked like a charm, and the doors let the light inside.

"This closet served us well, but now we have to go forward. I'm keeping my end of the deal."