She is rampageous.

"Hmmmm... I want to have it all."

"Then have it! It belongs to you!" — these words acted like a gas pedal pressed and taped to the floor in a car with both hand and pedal brakes disassembled and put in the trunk.

Jen jumped to the next shelf, slammed it open and grabbed a long steel bar. Applying it along her right wrist made the sensor squeal, and a solid steel hand bracer with two attached rings added itself to the shopping list. She tugged at it, but the fit was snug and final.

Wasting no more time, she took another item from there. It happened to be a thick and stiff vinyl pencil skirt. The girl stepped into it and zipped it up immediately. Unlike anything else Jen found before, it hung on her upper hips without any predatory intention. She was almost disapponted to discover a "normal" piece of clothing, but did not take it off.

"Let's concentrate more on more serious purchases, sweetheart."

Finally, she found a second long bar, a twin to the one already on her right wrist. It quickly went on. All that was left on the shelf was a pile of keys. Jen quickly recognized two soft and bulky ones among them.

"Of course. Prove that you are a valuable customer."

The girl crouched and stuffed them into the keyholes at her ankles. The realization that her straining feet are trapped forever in a pair of far-from-practical boots only brought her the feeling of security and satisfaction.

"Now that you're down there, let's check the lower shelf."

Jen opened the plastic lid and found a truly peculiar device. It was a small metal box with four soft velvet bracelets chained to it. She tugged at one of them, and the chain connecting it to the box got longer, while one of the chains hanging down from the lower hole of the box got shorter.

"Such intricate design must be tested."

The girl mindlessly put the first two bracelets onto her ankles (she discovered that they could also be loosened). For some reason she found leaving the box lying besides her more comfortable while she was lengthening the chain to put on the wrist bracelets around her steel ones comfortably.

As soon as they were on, the box beeped and started to act. The chains were retracting into the box rapidly! Jen had to crouch again and bend her back, but nonetheless failed to keep her balance and fell onto the cold tiled floor.

She was lying on it face down as the box finished its business. Its victim was in a strict hogtie position with her hands and ankles pulled to the same place by soft but very durable velvet bracelets. Jen tried struggling, but only managed to link the two pairs of rings on her larger, steel bracers. They **** her elbows closer behind her back, making her position even more restrained. The shopping trip was over.

After a few minutes some of her body parts have gone numb from the floor's coldness. She thanked herself for not getting rid of the skirt, but PVC was also not particularly great at stopping low temperatures. There was some guilty pleasure from being trapped like that: blinded with permanent blindfold, feet having no rest due to permanent booties, with heavy and sophisticated bondge gear on and without any clue on how to get out of the situation she wrecked upon herself.

Jen was not thinking about saving herself or calling for help. The remnants of her conscience were focused on this guilty pleasure, and the rational thinking frequency of her brain has gone dead a while ago.

Then, there were footsteps. There was no reaction to their approach. A deep male voice descended from above

"It would be subappropriate to leave your precious features freezing here, Janet."

"More... goods..."

"I see you're enjoying the Auto-Hogtie of them all. Quite a commitment. However, let's stick with the result you achieved on your own."

"Want MORE!" — Jen struggled futilely against her many bonds as the mysterious man picked her by the Auto-Hogtie box with his both hands and carefully put her into one of the shelves.

"Wanting more is natural for a human. You still are human, but no longer a person. Enjoy your purchases in the Storage." — he said while closing the lid. As he walked away, the shelf started to lower down and below the floor. Jen continued to struggle, but only to tease herself — one of the few things she could do to entertain herself — as she was delivered to the Storage.

ENDING #8