Sure, why not?

Jen took the ends of the tiny band and simply wrapped it around her neck. She released her hands, and the band stayed there. When she touched the back of her neck again, she could not feel the previously distinct edges — it was a solid loop of thin and seemingly frail leather. The absent smile on the girl's face was muddled by a spoon of concern as she tugged on the band to stretch it away. It was not nearly stretchy enough to be pulled over her head.

The slightest thought that the Cumslave collar was real and she just put it on herself terrified Jen to her very core. Now the girl tried to rip it apart with all her might. In the story, it was getting thicker and tougher over time, so if there was a moment when she could theoretically be stronger than it, the moment was now! She gave it her absolute best before letting go, but could not feel any damage done with her fingers.

"I need a mirror. Absolutely."

"I think I saw one closer to where I found my boots."

She hopped onto her toes, only to fall right back into the armchair, bending over one of the armrests.

{If She knows = true}"... my boots. My ballet fucking boots. This really isn't the time for that. Alright. What was it, a catwalk?"

{else}"Whoops! I'll need them off real quick for this one!" — Jen tried to find a button that would separate the boots again, but there were none. She only found a small metal socket on the side that had smooth texture with a drawing of a keyhole printed on it. A magnet key was needed to remove the boots, and she did not have one. — "Oh my god! Don't tell me..."

Yes. The girl also found that the dildo had a keyhole in the middle of its base. The two items were irremovable obstacles to her reaching the mirror and trying to do something with the collar, which was the greater danger. The only choice was to walk anyway.{endif}

Jen was on the catwalk again. This time, however, her panic was stronger. There was concern in the crowd's eyes. Some of them were on the phone for some reason. Some people were walking away.

"What's the matter? You're looking even better than last time they saw you. Each of their faces is just the reflection of your own, and it's full of unnecessary concern. You can only reach the mirror if you agree to be a Cumslave for the time. And be proud of what you are more than ever!"

Deep inside, Jen knew it was at least very close to true. She had to succumb to the collar to have her one last shot at not succumbing to the collar. Her fingers ran over it one more time. It was super comfy and must have looked super good too. She could swear it was thicker already but brushed this insignificant discovery away.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. She was walking. People loved her. They were trying to climb the catwalk to touch her magnificent ballet boots. Her conscienece whispered her that an actual audience would not act like that. But that was not an actual audience.

Their cheeks were red... No, these were hers. Her hips were swinging wider and sharper, and her occupied vagina was full of action from the dildo thrashing inside. God, she was gorgeous!

"Thank you for coming here, my admirers! I'm Cumslave, and I should stop using my mouth for talking!"

The echo rolled all over the hall, and she could not believe that she just shouted these words out loud. And yet it boosted her catwalk even more. The girl was incredibly close to having an orgasm mid-air, but the mirror was already very close, standing near a bench with a circle of wardrobes surrounding it.

Jen walked in front of the glass and saw that the collar has already obtained a shiny black color, a third of an inch of thickness and bright white letters clearly stating "CUMSLAVE". Even her physical shape underwent a little change, with her hips getting wider and naked breasts getting fuller.

She did not take into account that the transformation took days in the story because the wearer was resisting the magic the entire time, instead of feasting on it like she did.

"And we can do it quicker." — Jen could not take it anymore and collapsed onto the bench with a gasp full of lust. Her eyes caught the glimplse of her mouth in the mirror opening in a particular way, and the image stayed for a moment after she closed her eyelids. It was enough for the climax, and she rode the bench, rocking all over it in pure bliss.