Jen faints from hypoxia.

But the excitement was too much. She took the biggest inhale she could and it was still disappearingly small. The girl collapsed into the wardrobe like a dropped ragdoll.

***

Jen was lying on her back. The whole assortment of the white wardrobe was hanging above her, with light reflections from the shining latex clothes on the hangers sending stars into her barely open eyes.

She still had the corset on, and it was still squeezing the hell out of her. The girl inhaled and the garment prevented. This struggle of a breathing process alone renewed the climate change in her pussy. Immobile, she did not feel the risk of fainting, but she could not stay immobile forever, could she?

"MmmMmm..." — Jen squirmed and tried to rise from the wooden bottom. Spreading her legs did not work, as the effort was met with firm and unyielding resistance from her skirt. It was also hard to get a good grip on the floor in her white 6 inches. She would usually use her abdominal muscles, but she literally could not feel them under the corset as they simply had no room for straining. And her arm strength... was somehow not enough.

After another couple minutes of oxygen management, the girl slowly crawled to the closest shelf and pulled at it to roll herself over more easily. Butterflies flew over her insides as she did that, even though these were butterflies in a very small jar.

She took a better grip on the shelf, gathered her knees and began raising herself from the bottom, but grabbed a small metal bar on the shelf by accident, which made her fall back down. The bar fell right on the back side of her neck, let out a loud squeal and shot more metal out of itself.

"Mmm, what is thaaht!" — Jen said and touched her neck. There was a rather thin white metal collar with a large ring on the front. Of course, it was already completely installed and locked.

"It's a mere message, sweetheart. This wardrobe gave us a lot and now we must dedicate ourselves to it."

She could not disobey, so she finally stood up with another try. The girl had to lean on the wall as her feet were too shaky to balance on the stilettos like they were used to.

There was a chain with a cuff built into the wall. A lot of them, actually, but she took this one and clutched it around her collar ring. It hesitated for a second, but allowed itself to be shut. Now she was attached to the white wardrobe.

"It's mine! I'm its!" — in an impulse, she also decided to shut the doors, but the chain was not long enough. Jen was pulled back by her neck and she fell on the shelf, where she blacked out again.

***

In the time of her absence, the entire wardrobe started moving downwards.

"Your choice is to tie your fate with this piece of furniture. Let it be. I'll add you to the rest of your kind."

Jen and her vessel then entered another hall, a fair bit smaller than the first one. It was also filled with women attached to their furniture. Before she was placed, she passed a young ex-person attached to a large bed with so many chains she could barely be seen under them; a 40-ish redhead standing on the edge of a large chair on her toes with her head between them and her stomach bound to the chair back with multiple leather restraints; finally, a bald babe that managed to get herself stuck on a wooden table.

"But you are different from them, Janet. You're different because the contents of your wardrobe stay with you. I hope you use them wisely."

ENDING #32