Use the chair how it was designed to be used.

"Sitting on the edge won't give you any rest. Use these special pockets. They were made to make you comfortable."

{If She knows}"I know what they are made for. I'm gonna put my limbs in and get stuck."

"You're such a suspicious little croaker. Well, then don't. Just sit down and don't use these convenient, convenient pockets. You did a good job at walking in these beautiful boots, you need this rest."

That made enough sense to convince Jen to dive into the armchair with her ass. The rubber seat was shaped ideally for it, but she had to put her hands above the holes in the armrest, and her boots were hanging in the air due to having to bypass the rather large leg holes. It was definitely less than a relaxing experience.

Jen looked into the arm holes, only seeing some fur on the inside. Her fingers were actually a bit red from the cool air of the White Hall. It would be so nice to warm them up there, but she knew...

"Of course, they are safe to use! You can try the neck strap at first. It's literally a touch fastener, silly!"

That also seemed true. Something in the back of her mind told her to not do this, but the voice did manage to press through her caution without much resistance. The girl took two parts of the strap and wrapped it closed around her neck.

Now her spine and neck rested in their soft, fitted spots perfectly. This was the most comfortable chair she ever sat in.

"Do you think your legs and arms don't deserve such care?"

"They do, but..." — Jen tried undoing the neck strap, and it disconnected rather easily with a loud ripping sound.

"See? It's made so you and only you could enjoy it instead of worrying."

"No..." — she moaned wearily in response, watching her poor encased ballet feet dangling with no use and no rest, their ankles with keyholes catching distracting glares from the ceiling lights. Her eyes half closed, Jen watched them bend and slide into their soft rubber beds in the armchair very slowly. As they rested there, she heard a quiet "yes..." escaping her lips, even though she never felt she said it.

"...how did I get so tired from just one stride?.." — she whispered to herself as she felt fur tickle her fingers that were entering the armrest mitten. The neck strap was already fastened, tighter than previously. Of course it was, it would be inconsiderate to forget about it before...

*clunk*

There was no shock. Jen kind of knew what happened, but her mind was so numb it struggled to form a reaction.

"Oh. It seems some hidden cuffs have closed around my wrists and ankles, and now I cannot pull them out of the holes. Should I be worried?"

"No. You should never be worried. Get some sleep now."

{else}Jen jumped into the armchair, much to her feet's relief. Smooth rubber coating of this piece of furniture was cold at first, but after a few seconds it was already sharing the girl's hotness. She liked both how it smelled and how it felt, as the seat and the back were repeating every curve of her body.

"Start with the neck strap. Posture is key, even in moments of absolute relief."

Eager to test out the features of this chair, Jen connected two parts of the strap together. She loved how her spine was straight as ever, but in order for her whole body to achieve the designed relaxed pose, she needed to insert her limbs into the holes. The cool air in the White Hall actually did make her fingers red and dreaming of warmth that the armrest mittens were offering.

Without further ado, the girl slid her hands in. There was fur inside! Her black ballet feet fell into their holes almost on their own.

*clunk*

"What was that sound?"

"Oh, it's the chair activation. Nothing to worry about. Now have your rest. You have all the time in the world now."

To her surprise, Jen felt her eyelids sliding down. Did she really get so tired so quickly? The comfort of sitting in the chair served as a slide out of her own consciousness.{endif}

***

The girl woke up. She was still in the armchair, although it felt as if she was... deeper in it. Her eyes looked down and saw that she had been sinking into the chair across the hours of her sleep!

Once wide holes were now very tight around her hands and feet. Trying to pull them out was pointless — {If She knows = true}the classic cuff trap was holding them securely{else}there were hidden cuffs inside that must have made the closing sound when she was not paying attention{endif}. Her body was now halfway inside the chair, and she could break out her ass out of it in theory — but in practice she did not have enough strength. Releasing her sinking head would have been easy — if there was a free hand to undo the sticky strap.

Jen was stuck there like in a fly trap, helpless to do anything. Not that she tried very hard. If it was the end of her adventure — it was an enjoyable one. If it was wrong to think of and felt so right — why think?

Her ears were already enveloped by the hungry rubber, but she was hearing her own breathing and feeling herself getting consumed extremely slowly. Jen used to want to get out of here and go home just hours ago, but accepted her new home in a piece of furniture with surprising ease. Her feet were fated to stay en pointe forever, as there was no way to get to them anymore.

Suddenly, she heard a door open somewhere out of her sight. So there was someone else in this huge place after all! High heels started to click loudly.

"Hello? Is someone there?" — Jen asked. Judging by the clicks getting interrupted and then renewed towards her location, she was heard.

Another girl entered her sight, and they had a moment to examine each other. She looked about Jen's age, with very fine body complexion, perhaps rivaling Jen's, except for the fact she was a fair bit smaller. This girl had viciously looking 8-inch heeled black platform sandals on her feet, with their straps going as high as her thigh, and a few pairs of massive D-rings decorating them from outer sides. Her body was encumbered by a heavy steel harness with crude spikes here and there, especially around her most private areas. A chain was connecting her shoulder length pink latex gloves at her elbows. A wide leather anklet was the last asset of her outfit, but it already had a key sticking out of its keyhole, which meant she could get rid of it whenever she wanted.

Her very dark brown hair was tied in a bun, and her round face was gleaming with interest. Deeper in her eyes, however, Jen saw a person that, much like her, was barely able to think straight.

"Hello. Yes, yes, I'm there." — her high-pitched voice was muffled by the chair covering her ears, but Jen could still make out the words just fine. — "It looks like you... have a free mouth."

"Uh... yeah! Not so sure about other parts of me." — Jen said in a cautious tone. She was no psychologist, but there was clearly something wrong with that girl's first sentence.

"This mall is full of wonders, isn't it?" — the spiked girl sat on one of the armrests and casually started to stroke Jen's bare nipples with her gloves. — "You're one of them."

Jen was not into girls, but she did not mind the feelings that came with this attention. The gloves' owner was watching the hesitant pleasure expression on her face for a few seconds and then got to the point: