New Outfit

As the drain slides shut, the room falls silent once again. You're left feeling **** and exposed, the discomfort of the enema still lingering. Suddenly, a new machine whirs to life, its metal limbs unfolding from the wall like a mechanical spider. The automated voice interrupts the silence, "Attire protocol initiated." A series of small, articulated arms extend from the machine, each one tipped with a delicate-looking manipulator.

The first arm reaches out and presents a shiny object. It's a metal collar, adorned with a small nameplate that reads "Pet" in bold letters. The arm moves with precision, fastening the collar around your neck with a soft click.

The articulated arms continue to move with precision, each one undoing your restraints before performing their specific task. The second arm reaches out, presenting a circular ring with a strap. The ring is made of a smooth, cold metal, and it's clear that it's designed to be inserted into your mouth. The arm moves towards your face, and you feel a surge of anxiety as the ring is pressed against your lips. You try to resist, but the arm is too strong, and the ring is **** into your mouth. The metal is cold and tastes bitter. The ring is a gag, designed to keep your mouth open and prevent you from speaking.

The automated voice continues, "Restraint protocol initiated." The machine's metal limbs unfold further, revealing a series of black leather sleeves attached to the ends of the arms. The first arm extends, holding a leather sleeve adorned with silver buckles. The binder iis slipped on your arms just above the elbow, and the buckles are tightened with a soft click. The leather creaks as it conforms to the shape of your arm, holding it firmly in place. Your hands are encased in mittens, that eliminates the ability to freely use your fingers.

The third arm extends, holding a similar piece for your legs. The machine's limbs move with purpose, fastening the binders around your ankles, knees, and thighs. The leather is tight and forces you to bend at the knees, restricting your movement. The final arm reaches out, holding a black leather hood.

The hood is placed over your head, blocking out all light. You hear the automated voice as the hood is pulled down, "Attire protocol complete."

With the hood pulled down, the darkness is absolute, and you're **** to rely on your other senses. The sound of the machine's limbs retracting and the hiss of the hydraulic systems create a cacophony of noise that fills your ears. You feel a slight jolt as the table beneath you begins to lower, and your body is slowly tilted forward. The leather binders holding your arms and legs in place creak and groan as they adjust to the new position.

The table continues to lower, and you feel yourself being gently placed on the cold, hard floor. The surface is smooth and unforgiving, and you can feel the chill of the material seeping into your skin.

As your body settles on the cold floor, you feel the weight of the hood on your head, and the restriction of the binders on your limbs. You are now **** to crawl, with your ankles secured to the back of your thigh. You try to push your legs open, but the binders are too tight. You try graps some of the buckles with your hands but the mittens make it impossible.You are **** to move on all fours, your hands and knees scraping against the floor.