With it comes responsibility.

Jen looked back at the squashed tiles. The damage was so deep she could see wires under the adhesive that were probably related to the method of air conditioning chosen by the unknown creator of this place. Her brows folded together, and a cold shower of regret poured down her spine.

"I've put on some expensive things and destroyed some property with it. I can't fix it, the splinters are all over the place. It was all a mistake, I shouldn't have done any of it."

"Oh, come on. Crime doesn't count if you had fun."

"It was fun at first, but I'm still god-knows-where and god-knows-how, dressed like uhh..."

"A ****! And you did such a great job on that!"

"No! The game is over, I'm not playing anymore!" — Jen trod back to the wardrobe carefully, bent over, allowing the chains to drop down to the wooden floor and not tug on her neck as much, then rubbed the ankle straps on her monstrous sandals.

But there were no hidden release buttons. The girl could barely feel the seam where the strap met the back of the shoe and could not see it at all, that was how thin it was. She then checked the joint, the piece that physically allowed the strap to be moved at all, and discovered a keyhole on the top.

"How is this a **** outfit if the **** decides when to take it off? That's right."

Jen inspected the rest of her outfit. There were more keyholes on her bracelets, her anklets, her collar, her chastity belt. The bra probably had one on the back, which was the place she could not possibly reach at all because of the chains. The girl started messing around with the chains instead, but the rings of her bonds that opened to easily to join with them refused to open again.

"No, no... I haven't seen any keys there at all! Where do I find them?"

The realization was slowly dawning on her. It was not realistic — it was real. It did not matter what she thought of it or that she was a free person half an hour ago. The keys to different parts of her red outfit could have been scattered across the entire hall or the entire building — or could have never existed in the first place. It was certain that she was not getting out on her own, but fear was still not the first of her emotions.

The first was, suddenly, lust. A second ago she was so concerned for herself, but it was growing like a chain explosion now. Her knees failed her and landed on the wood, while her face looked down and stared into the huge pile of shiny chains.

"You've never stopped enjoying it. It was your fate to be like that. To become a servant of steel."

Her hand moved downwards. Her hips were tense, and so was the dildo inside her. It just needed a little help. Her fingers crawled onto the steel plate covering her boiling pussy, but could not find a way through. The chastity belt would not step away despite her burning desire, and even a double edition of trying to get past was not enough.

An attempt to attack her bra resulted in a similar defeat. The caressing touches were never through. There was plenty of emotional stimulation, but it was never enough without something physical. As the realization that even having an orgasm was now out of her reach, Jen let her hands fall to the floor, and as they dove into the pile of rustling chains, she let out a mighty cry of despair.

She whimpered much quieter for another ten minutes or so, rubbing, pulling, searching, all just to tell herself that she was not sitting still. Then her mind started thinking if there could still be a way of changing her predicament decisively. One thing she knew for sure was that going for a long distance was out of the question.

"Nobody's forcing you to go anywhere. If just waiting for your Master is boring, there's plenty of toys around!"