Not in control.

After a minute of freaking out, you feel yourself start to walk toward the walk-in closet. It's like someone else is controlling your movements.

You let the nightgown drop to the floor in a puddle of red silk. Your hands reach out and pick up some black silk stockings and a garter belt. You feel a thrill as you sensually slide them up your milky thighs. Your long red nails adjust the garter belt, then reach out languidly toward the soft leather corset.

As the corset is wrapped around your waist, you can feel it tightening on its own. What's happening? Why can't you stop? Who or what is making you do these things?