You shake your head and are in the process of reaching to put the collar back on the shelf when suddenly your arm pulls it closer to you. It doesn't follow your orders to stop, instead your other arm joins it. Your hands, completely on their own, make quick work of the buckle and tighten the leather collar around your neck. Then, suddenly, you're able to pull them away.
Now that you've got them under control again, you reach up to undo what just happened. You grope the leather for the buckle, but to your surprise and confusion, you can't find it. You step in front of the mirror and run your hands all around the collar, finding no buckle or anything of the sort. It just disappeared, leaving you no way of removing the collar.
The bell jingles as you tug on the leather. Your involuntary movements had buckled it a tad tight. It's a little uncomfortable to swallow, but you can breathe alright.
"How the hell did it do that?" you ask your reflection.
The door opens behind you. You turn in fright. A woman enters, dressed in a fancy green dress. Her dark gray hair is done up in a bun. She looks about fifty years old.
"Good gracious!" she says in a shrill voice. "Don't you look just darling?!" She takes a few energetic steps toward you, then abruptly stops as if she just realized you're a total stranger. "Well, I do say it looks much better on you than the last girl!"
"Um...," you murmur. Your situation keeps getting more awkward with every new development. First you ignore a No Trespassing sign, then you sleep in a stranger's house, now you're wearing something from the closet. Not to mention somehow de-aging to eighteen and wearing an impossibly permanent collar. You really have no idea how to explain yourself so this woman will believe.
"Now dear, I'm sure you're frightened and confused," the woman says matronly. "They all are. And it's not going to get any better." That wide smile never fades from her face. She looks you over once more. "But there shall be no pity to those who knowingly violate rules."
"I'm very sorry for intruding," you try to explain. "It was late and I thought this place was empty."
"Yes, yes, that's what most of them say," the woman waved her hand as if wiping dust from the air. "You saw the signs?"
"The ones that say 'No Trespassing?'"
"Indeed. Every once in a while I find someone like you who will simply ignore my warnings and poke about my property like cockroaches. I do not accommodate freeloaders. And so I set little traps like this. A warm bath, a cozy bed, and they don't even know they are setting themselves up for a harsh punishment."
"I've learned my lesson," you stammer.
"I'm not here to teach you a lesson, dear girl. I'm here for revenge. This room you've claimed--a popular choice by the way--is designed to change everyone who sleeps here into an eighteen-year-old girl. May I ask if you already were one?"
"I'm older, but I've always been a woman," you say coldly. "I'll do anything you ask if you'll please just let me go."
"You will do anything I ask regardless," she said with a gleeful smile. "Now let's see...ah, indeed you are a gem. Much prettier than the last few. But I still see room for improvement."
You gulp, at least as well as you can with that tight collar. You prepare to break out in a run for the door, but just the thought of it seems to trigger a failsafe in the collar. It tightens even more, cutting off your windpipe.
The woman seems to notice. "Try not to think about escaping, child. You'll find the thought bad for your health."
You think hard, "Okay, you win, I will not try to escape." This appeases the collar, and it loosens its stranglehold.
"Now, as I was saying," the woman says. "Improvements..."