The next day

The next day you wake up in your cell as every other day. You do not know how much time you spent as a ****. By all means it seems like a lot. It might be around six months. Perhaps a year. You lost track a long ago.

You sit tight for a few hours until Master comes in. He gives you breakfast: rice, meat and water. Once you ate, you have to give him a blowjob, while you are let to massage your caged clitty. Sometimes you can orgasm this way. Sometimes you cannot. Master doesn't really care.

This time around you go for a walk in the desert. Of course, you are heavily bound, your caged clitty dangling between your legs as you walk. But these are the few times when you think escape would be feasible. Perhaps you should risk it. Perhaps you should not. But could life become any worse?