“Even if you DID get the key…”

“…you’d still be stuck here, wriggling helplessly. It’s not like you can use magic when you’re gasping for air, after all. So why do you persist, even despite the repeated inhalation of that heavy, slick, impermeable latex deep, deep into your maw, propped open by that unyielding ring wedged between your teeth? You don’t suppose you’ll be granted freedom from your immobile suspension, do you? The catsuit isn’t coming off either, whether that mask of suffocating rubber remains glued to your muzzle or not. Maybe you just like the ray of hope that the key represents, even if it’s ultimately hopeless?

“Well…whatever the case is, I sure enjoy seeing you struggle. Perhaps I’ll watch you for the next hour or two, gasping and whimpering as your lungs quiver, seeking the oxygen they’ve been deprived of for too long. That sounds fun, doesn’t it? Well…whether it does or not, I’ll be here. So keep struggling, my little pony…your futile inhalations are music to my ears~”