He awoke slowly, blearily, confused. Consciousness eluded him like a hunted animal, and when he finally grabbed onto it awareness came much too slowly. It was several minutes before he figured out that the uncooperative responses of his arms and legs weren't just sluggishness. With one eye open he took a quick look at his situation. He was nude and seated on a chair, plain, wooden, sturdy. Looking down he saw his legs had been attached to the legs of the chair with wide black cuffs on his ankles clipped to eyebolts set into the chair, and another set on his thighs. His arms draped over the back of the chair, and though he couldn't see them he could feel that they were similarly restrained. He flexed a bit, testing his bonds. The only give was microscopic in the cuffs themselves. Rubber. Interesting.

When his cock began to stir from the familiar grip of rubber restraints something felt different, wrong. Leaning forward he was able to look down and see his member, forcefully held flaccid by a simplistic looking bit of metal running along the top of it, attached to some kind of padlocked cock ring. With a grimace he realized the metal rod not only went over the top of his cockhead, it attached to a long tube inserted into his urethra. Thinking of the probable discomfort that would come from his arousal quickly halted his erection. He grimaced again as he realized that was the point.

His own body now accounted for, he took in his surroundings. It was a cell; there was no mistaking it for anything else. Concrete, lightly stained walls, eyelets and rings mounted everywhere, and a sturdy metal door straight out of some bad period prison film. The only other feature was the hanging bare bulb above him, which almost on cue flickered as he watched. A few minutes later it did so again, with an almost comical "tink" sound. Then again. And again. It kept flickering at seemingly random intervals, never predictable, wearing on his unusually bleary mind.

Time passed while he tried to figure out how he had gotten here. He remembered going to bed, disheartened after a day of unsuccessful job searching. Then... flashes, incomplete and incoherant. White tiles. The sound of an engine. Himself talking, though he couldn't remember to who or about what. Pain. And pleasure. And wanting more. And being denied.

He jerked in surprise as the door was loudly unlatched and opened. He watched as a woman in black scrubs walked in purposefully, carrying a clipboard and a bag. With no introductions or explanation she set her bag and clipboard on the ground, pulled out some latex gloves and a few other benign medical instruments, and began examining him. Her instructions were precise and professional, and sensing no danger he complied with them. Turn your head. Breathe in. Hold it. Exhale. How many fingers am I holding, and so on. Nothing he hadn't experienced at the doctor's office, though the reflex test was not usually administered with his legs cuffed. Seemingly satisfied the nurse (he assumed) wrote a few things on her clipboard, then turned and nodded to someone as she left. He followed the nod.

He hadn't seen her enter, and he wished he had. She was stunning, not just because of her attire, but that certainly made an impression. A black and red corset hugged her torso, squeezing her obviously fit frame even more. It only came up so far, leaving her not-too-big breasts exposed. Latex chaps, something he had not thought of as sexy on a woman, hugged her legs tightly to the shin, where the material hung loosely over her boots, which were heeled, tall, and pointed. They looked unpleasantly like they were made to help the wearer inflict pain. Completing the outfit were a pair of thin, nearly see-through crotchless red latex panties, spread to expose her lips, which he could dimly see were lightly damp. The entire outfit emphasized her femininity, made it more powerful at the same time. He found himself struggling to contain his fruitless erection again.

"8874," she said in firm tones, and said nothing else. There was a pause as he tried to make sense of it, at the same time watching her as she stood powerfully, leaning against a wooden chair she had obviously brought in with her. Finally he said, "what?" She smiled wryly and moved towards him, setting the chair in front of him, back facing him. Taking a seat backwards in the chair, legs straddling the back and arms resting on top of it, she repeated herself. "8874. That is you," she added, "prisoners here do not have names, they have numbers. You are number 8874. Do you understand?" His mind reeled for a second, before he spoke: "I'm a what?"

Her slap struck him hard and without warning, the loud sound of latex glove on skin reverberating throughout the cell. When he turned his face to look at her again it appeared as though she hadn't ever moved, but the sting on his face and glare of her eyes said otherwise. "When you are asked a question you will answer it immediately. Now, you are number 8874, that is your only name here. Do you understand?" He did not pause, and quietly responded, "yes Ma'am, I understand." She smiled, not entirely evilly, and reached out to stroke his stinging cheek soothingly with her gloved hand. "Very good. You learn quickly, 8874. Adding 'Ma'am' was a nice touch. I was told you were a very well behaved boy most of the time." She

Removed her hand and rose from the chair, walking slowly in a circle around him. He didn't bother trying to follow her with his eyes. "I am Goddess Minerva. While you are here you will refer to me as Goddess or my full title, nothing else. I will be your," she paused, "trainer and caretaker for most of your stay here in The Lower Cells."

A light dawned in his mind as he heard the capitalization in Minerva's words. Risking another slap, he nonetheless spoke. "But Goddess," he added the title in the hopes of getting on her good side, "I wasn't able to afford the fees to enroll when I last tried to apply. I still can't." He was shocked to find his face feeling hot with embarassment as he said this. He knew his months-long unemployment bothered him, but he'd never considered it blush-worthy. His brief introspection broke as the Goddess prepared to speak again.

"There are certain arrangements that can be made in lieu of payment for one's stay here." As she spoke he felt her unhooking his amkle cuff from the chair. With a little effort she raised his leg and then clipped the ankle cuff to the thigh cuff. She continued circling. "Obviously we don't make this information known to many, mostly our own staff. One of them arranged such an alternative on your behalf." Minerva began adjusting his other leg to match the first. "Between their relationship with you and the information you included on your previous application for incarceration, we were convinced to bring you here, rather than letting you bring yourself." She stood, both of his legs now linked ankle-to-thigh, and moved back to the chair in front of him. As she straddled the chair he caught sight of her latex-framed slit though the open back of the chair. He tried not to stare, instead meeting her eyes as he spoke, somewhat angrily. "So you KIDKNAPPED me?"

The second slap was harder than the first, stinging his other cheek. He barely had time to react to it before her hand was gripping his balls harshly in one gloved hand. "Yes 8874," she growled, "we kidknapped you from your apartment, drugged and took you from your bed while you slept, and brought you here because it excites you, you ungrateful shit. Do you DARE pretend that if that Cock Trap wasn't keeping your dick limp and useless you wouldn't be standing rock hard, knowing how you got here?" He turned his face back but kept his eyes on the floor, unable to meet her gaze. He had been very complete in his written application; Goddess was right and they both knew it. Even now his cock was stirring uncomfortably against the harsh chastity device he wore.

After a silent moment she released her grip on his testicles, making him sigh in relief. "Good," she said, "you understand now that this is real and mostly of your own doing." He remained silent, save for some heavy breathing. This was real! He'd been accepted for incarceration! The Lower Cells had a revered reputation, one of limit-pushing intensity and unparalleled pleasures to match. He just hoped he hadn't gotten in over his head. Goddess Minerva still circled him, and spoke: "in lieu of 'room fees' you will be assigned extra duties. Initially this will be things that will not require you to be out of bondage. You indicated you were willing to be watched by others and even recorded if your anonymity was maintained. You will be hooded when necessary to maintain that." He shivered at the implication; The Lower Cells also produced and sold adult films. He'd never considered being part of one. Goddess went on. "Later, when I am convinced you can be trusted with additional privelages, you will be given duties which require you to be at least only bound loosely. IF and when I am convinced. We can easily make up your portion of payment shooting caning and anal fisting films in your cell if you fail to impress me with your trustworthyness. Do I make myself clear?" His answer came without hesitation. "Yes Goddess," he replied, making her smile. Running her hand affectionately through his hair, she cooed, "good prisoner," into his ear. He couldn't help but feel happy at this. "If you continue to behave obediently," she continued, still purring in his ear, "you will be rewarded. Perhaps some nice latex bedding and clothes. I understand you're quite the rubberist. It IS why you were placed in my care, after all." A thrill went through him. His cock was feeling very uncomfortable now in its chastity.

She moved behind him and began doing something to the chair he couldn't determine. A thought that had been bouncing around in his head forced him to speak. "Goddess Minerva," he said, loud and clear but with great respect in his voice, "may I know who arranged for my stay here?" There was a pause, and though he couldn't see his new Goddess he swore he could tell she was smiling. Then she said, "no, you may not. They were very insistent that you don't know their identity. Not yet." She stood. "Now, it's time for your first lesson as a prisoner." There was a scraping sound, and as he heard Minerva grunting he realized she was lifting the chair and tilting it forward. As he started sliding he realized she had unclipped him from it while his attention was elsewhere, and with another grunt and a violent shove he was thrown from the chair to the floor. Almost immediately he cried out. "Red, red, RED," he shouted, trying to invoke the universal safeword as he rolled to his side awkwardly. He felt Goddess' hands turning him onto his back and bound arms, but instead of coming to his aid she quickly straddled his chest and sat on him. His arms pressed painfully into the concrete by his weight and hers and his head pinned between her knees, he was helpless to resist as her hands clamped across his mouth and nose. Goddess' gloves made a near airtight seal, and she leaned in and hissed words in her captive's ear. "Your first lesson 8874 is that prisoners are entitled to nothing, not even furniture. You must earn it." She raised up a little, hands still over his face, watching him struggle for breath. After an agonizing pause she continued. "Your second is that safewords are a luxury you do NOT have here. You signed the forms acknowledging as much; a few months of time should not have erased that from your mind." After another moment of watching him suck uselessly for air she released her hands; he gasped desperately, thankful to breathe again.

"Now," she said to the panting prisoner still between her legs, "what made you try to safe?" He groaned and looked up at her. "My left knee hurts very bad, Goddess. It feels like it's serious." Minerva didn't pause as she turned and yelled out the door, "Nurse! Injury exam, 8874!" Within seconds the same black scrub-clad woman was through the open cell door. She spoke quietly to Minerva, who simply said, "left knee." He had been expecting her to rise from his chest, but she remained seated, nearly crushing him while the nurse examined his bound leg. After some prodding she moved back to Minerva's side and spoke quietly. "Just a bruise, a painful one," she said just loud enough for him to hear, "no serious damage." Goddess nodded and the nurse left. She turned her eyes to her captive again. "Serious injury is the only time you are allowed to safe. Do not even think about faking an injury; our nurses are skilled at spotting that and you will be punished severely." An evil smile came across her face. "Now, it's time for one more lesson. Open your mouth." He did as he was asked quickly, and felt something slip between his teeth. As the strap was buckled behind his head he felt around with his tongue and realized it was a ring gag.

Goddess Minerva finished with a satisfied smile and stood up, removing the weight from his chest. She stepped back a few feet and said in a firm tone, "get up on your knees and come here." This task was not one he could accomplish easily, and it was more than a minute before he had managed to upright himself and shuffle painfully to her. She remained silent as he did, watching with an unnervingly evil smile. When he had reached her she moved forward a few inches and simply said, "drink me." He barely had time to give a confused look before she barked, "I said drink me, prisoner!" With that she grabbed a handfull of his hair and painfully forced his head into her exposed cunt before letting her bladder flow. The stream of piss entered his mouth without warning and made him cough and sputter. He managed to regain control a moment later and did his best to swallow his Goddess' hot nectar, but the ring gag made it near impossible. A stream of piss ran down his chin, his chest, finally dripping off his chaste and straining cock and pooling below it. After a few more seconds the steam suddenly stopped and Minerva released his head, shoving it away. Placing her boot on his chest she shoved him harshly back to the ground.

"Not good enough, 8874," she growled as she stood above him. "But if you want to bathe in it so much...." Goddess let the words trail off and instead finished the sentence by releasing the rest of her bladder. The hot fluid sprayed into his face, drenching his hair and moving down as she did. When she was done she had marked most of him with her urine, and a puddle lay around him, lazily flowing towards the drain at the center of his cell. As he lay there on his side, overwhelmed with humiliation, she leaned down and fidgeted with his cuffs again. He felt some snapping and tugging, and then she rose. "I trust you not to move, 8874, but you to be safe I haven't given you the option." Dimly he realized that he must be chained to the floor somehow. It comforted him.

Minerva left the room for a minute, taking the chairs with her, then returned pushing a short cart with a TV on top. She moved it to rest in the center of his line of sight, then came towards him holding something small. As she crouched in front of him he felt her fidgeting with his trapped penis. He looked down nervously and saw Minerva locking some type of small metal band around his flaccid cock. Feeling an ominous foreboding of dread, it only got worse as his Goddess casually asked, "are you familiar with how a Kali's Teeth Bracelet works, prisoner?" He tried to reply and only managed a cooing noise from his gagged mouth. She understood him anyway. "Good," she said cheerfully with an undercurrent of sadistic lust, "then I won't have to explain what you'll be enduring for the next several hours." Moving to the TV, she pulled a DVD from a lower shelf on the cart and inserted it into a slot in the side of the set. After a few moments of warmup and self testing the DVD started immediately, no title sequence or menu, just a shot of a cell not unlike his own. There was someone covered head to toe in latex on screen, tied upright somehow. Before he could see more Minerva spoke again. "Someone will be back to hose you down eventually, and your bondage will be changed in a few hours to prevent any permanent damage. I hope you enjoy the little collection you'll be watching. You should find it very," she paused and her smile got a bit more evil, "insightful." With that cryptic comment she was through the cell door and had locked it loudly. After a few seconds the light in his cell went out, leaving the TV as the only source of illumination.

He tried to ignore the TV for a while, but the flickering light and steady sounds of erotic torture wore him down. Finally he gave in and watched. On screen he could see the bound form was a man, hooded and suspended upright in a tight reinforced latex sleepsack. He was gibbering desperately through a ball gag, drool foaming around the base as pathetic begging noises came muffledly from behind it. His begging seemed to indicate he was not enjoying himself, but this was contradicted by the state of his exposed cock. It was fully engorged and throbbing, startlingly hard. It was also affixed to a short wooden platform at just the right height in front of the bound prisoner. Several hypodermic needles pierced pieces of skin on either side of the shaft and had been embedded in the wood, further holding the tortured organ to the wood. The begging noises got louder and more desperate as a pair of gloved hands came on screen, one holding another needle. Then he watched in aroused horror as the needle was slowly pierced through another bit of cockskin and embedded in the board.

The face attached to the hands leaned in to blow sofly on the new wound, eliciting slightly less desperate noises from the onscreen victim. Then his tormentor's face turned to the camera and blew it a kiss; with a start the piss-soaked prisoner realized it was Goddess Minerva. As he watched her move off screen and then return with a spray bottle very clearly marked "rubbing alcohol" he felt the teeth of the Kali's Teeth Bracelet dig in to his cockflesh as his shaft tried to grow. "Oh God," he thought as he felt his fear and arousal fighting for space, "what have I gotten dragged into?"