She had been instructed, on her personal trainer’s first visit, in the meaning of the lights on the wall under the camera lens. When the red one came on, she was to go and lock herself in the cage. The cage was connected to some kind of electrical signal which locked and unlocked it remotely, and when the blue one came on, she was to emerge from her tiny steel prison and kneel in the center of the room, as she was now, her legs spread and her hands locked behind her head. A yellow light meant that she should roll out the thick, queen sized, cotton futon and kneel on it, her hands resting palms up on her thighs. This meant that a trainer was coming to have s*x with her.
When the green light was on, and it was rare, she could relax, take a drink of water, pee. She was charged with taking me
