Contained Ch 04

Once we finish our work, all female slaves in front of us look completely defeated and worn out. We have done a total rotation three times over the course of approximately two or maybe three hours. There are no clocks, so I cannot know for sure. One thing I do know,... there is no way that the fertilization of these females will fail. Tomorrow, we will receive a new row of holes to work on, but for now, we are done. My dick looks painfully red and swollen from all the action it got.

We all place our hands on our backs and wait for the keepers to enter the room. Each keeper is holding a warm damp white towel in one hand, and our respective cages in the other. We are allowed to wipe our genitals thoroughly before we have to force ourselves back into a chastity cage. The keepers will close the locks as soon as we are contained. It's one of the very few times we are able to touch our own genitalia. Normally speaking, it is forbidden at all times. Even when we pee, we have to do so while sitting down. It's one of the few 'privileges' that come with this particular job. Of course, the 'touching' only lasts a few seconds, not even a full minute, but it's something. I can't describe how degrading it is not to be allowed to touch certain body parts of your own body. It truly makes you feel like you're someone's object instead of a human being.

To be forced back into the chastity cage can be a real struggle. Usually, the libido injections last for about two hours. Sometimes a bit more depending on the build of the male. If the erection remains too much of an issue, an alternative injection is given that will have the opposite effect of the first one. I praise myself lucky that after some pinching and stuffing, I'm able to make my dick limp enough to go back into its cage. It's painful as hell to stuff it in there half-hard, but I manage.

After work, we are guided away by our keepers once more. They guide us back to our cubbies where we will silently await lunch. Two slices of whole-wheat bread, usually with a plant-based spread and some cheese, a small handful of plain nuts, two pieces of fruit, and a good-sized bottle of water. They like to keep us healthy for obvious reasons.

Today's spread is pumpkin hummus. I was hoping for peanut butter or avocado cream. I like the fruit though, a tangerine and some blueberries today. Nice. We receive exactly 45 minutes to consume our meal, after which we go to the next task of the day; the mandatory workout.

The workouts are executed with the same group members we did our jobs with. It makes it easier for the keepers to have us in small groups. The exercise we receive is coördinated by personal trainers. Today we are brought to a room where we have access to a rowing machine, treadmills, stationary bikes, and a barbell set. We have to exercise for 30 minutes consecutively before we can hydrate and shift equipment.

For the workout part of the day, I usually slide into an almost automated mindset. I do what is expected of me, but mostly I look forward to what comes after... an hour of 'time' in our cubby. I don't want to say 'free time' because that's not what it is. We're not free. We will be put back into our cubbies so we can self-meditate or rest, or so that visitors can view us, but we do not receive any recreational material like books, magazines, screens... nothing.

I love it though because it's the one time a day I can close my eyes and go elsewhere in my mind. I can dream and imagine everything I don't have here. It's the small things you miss. Genuine human contact, a loving touch, a bike ride, a beer, chocolate, pets, a tv show, my parents,... I miss so many things... I know I shouldn't contemplate like this. It's better to keep my mind blank, like a true slave, but it's hard for me. I can't seem to turn it off. I keep dreaming of someday getting out of here, and getting a life. I don't even care what kind of life. Even if I'll be poor or old, as long as I can be free... Deep down, I know it will never happen.

I release an almost silent sigh, as they announce the end of our workout session. Finally, I'll receive some alone time again. One by one we grab a sanitation cloth from a dispenser on the wall, and wipe down the equipment we used. That's when it happens.

"BANG!"

I almost use my voice as the loud obtrusive sound startles me. Luckily, whatever sound I made is lost in the screaming and cursing of number nine. I break protocol and aim my eyes away from the ground and look over to where he is standing. It seems he dropped the smallest barbell and it landed on the edge of his foot or toes.

Immediately, the keepers jump into motion and run over to Number Nine, batons at the ready. One keeper starts screaming at him to get back on his feet while another one is beating him for his insolence and clumsiness. Despite the risk of staring, I can't seem to look away.

Nine tries to rise to his feet but is clearly having trouble supporting himself on his left foot. Wobbly and with a pale face, he tries to straighten himself out. There is no doubt that a heavy punishment will await him for all the transgressions he just created.

Our keepers fall back into the routine before they continue to guide us to our cubbies. Ignoring the now heavy-limping Number Nine.

When I'm back in my cubby, I see two keepers passing. One is holding a shock collar, the other a cane. I barely dare to look as they march passed me. I hear them entering Nine's cubby, only two doors down. I hear him sob as they put the collar on him for his speaking transgression. He will have to undergo his caning quietly from that point on. The only sound for the next five minutes is the whooshing sound of the cane slicing through the air and the whimpers, grunts, and sobs of Number Nine. When the keepers are done, they inform him that he will receive no food for 3 days, and no milkings for two weeks. He will also be replaced for his job tomorrow as he will be spending the daytime in isolation for this week.

Nine keeps sobbing long after the keepers depart.

I feel for him. Isolation is hell. They put you in a dark, small room. Not quite big enough to lie down in, and barely high enough to stand up in. There is no heating, padding, or comfort of any kind in isolation. The walls and floors are made of stone and concrete. The only upside for him is that he will be able to rest his foot a bit there. I wish he would stop sobbing now... the sound is keeping me from losing myself in my imagination.