The Keltraxans reward you

No judgement comes down from on high, but you notice a light come on over the device shaped vaguely like a refrigerator. You glance at Toby next to you—he's awake but somewhat somnolent. You snort. Typical.

You roll off the bed and walk over to the kitchenette. It's smaller even than the one in your apartment. There's no stove or oven, just a sink and a small table and some weird device you don't recognize. You stare that the cuboid device in the corner, then you touch the side closest to you.

The side just disappears.

You jump back, startled, then bend over to look into the receptacle. Toby has an impeccable view of your equally-impeccable ass and cunt, if he bothers to look in this direction. For that matter, so do whatever aliens remain watching your enclosure after you and Toby finished your little oral act. This exhibitionism sends an unexpected shiver of delight down your spine.

The device is indeed some kind of refrigerator, and it is stocked to the brim with TV-dinner–like packages. You remove one at random, open it, and sniff. It smells vaguely like waffles but looks like a casserole. Staring at it sceptically, you notice something else light up out of the corner of your eye.

It's the device on the countertop, next to the sink. It is pulsating in a lazy, almost rhythmic way. As you approach, it pulsates faster. When you bring the casserole package near it, the pulsating quickens even more. So you put the package down on top of the device's platform.

It hums gently, and you see steam begin to rise from the casserole. It's an alien version of a microwave, but a little more convenient!

You touch the sides of the package gingerly at first, worried about burning yourself. Satisfied the food is warm but its container is not, you grab the casserole and take it over to the table. A quick search of the drawers below the sink reveal some eating utensils—spoons and blunted forks, nothing too dangerous. But sufficient for your purposes.

Toby eventually rouses himself and joins you. You bring him up to speed on your discoveries, and the two of you share a meal. It's strange: it's almost like a few months ago, when you were together. Except for the two of you being naked, of course. And your status as captives, as zoo exhibits.

The lighting in your "habitat" (for lack of a better word) dims. Stars, presumably fake or projected or something, appear on the ceiling of the enclosure, making it feel like you're outside.

"WE RECOGNIZE THE NEED FOR OUR EXHIBITS TO HAVE SOME PRIVACY. THEREFORE, EVERY TWENTY OF YOUR HOURS, WE WILL SIMULATE FOUR HOURS OF TWILIGHT. DURING THIS PERIOD YOU WILL NOT BE VISIBLE TO ZOO PATRONS, ALTHOUGH WE WILL CONTINUE TO MONITOR YOU FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY."

"So we're 'off duty' now, eh?" Toby asks.

"YOUR COLLOQUIALISM IS ACCURATE. YOU ARE NOT EXPECTED TO BEHAVE IN ANY PARTICULAR WAY DURING THIS PERIOD."

"And when the lights come back on?" you ask, archly.

"YOUR EXHIBIT WILL BE OPEN AGAIN TO THE PUBLIC. YOU MAY CONTINUE TO CHOOSE YOUR OWN ACTIVITIES, BUT DEPENDING ON VIEWERSHIP WE MAY REQUEST THAT YOU PERFORM CERTAIN ACTS OF INTEREST."

So you've won a reprieve, but you don't like the sound of that last part. You shoot Toby a glance, but he just grins at you like an idiot. Of course he would: he isn't taking any of this seriously. He's flattered and kind of turned on by the idea that he is one of the two humans on Earth kidnapped by aliens to represent your entire species in a zoo. If that means he has to have sex with you occasionally in front of them—well, what's not to like?