Breathing had become very difficult for the trapped woman.  She leaned over and slumped to the floor, her naked body collapsing in the darkness, unseen by anyone.  Little sparkles danced before her eyes, before they began to fade away into the blackness.  

One more breath, she thought, and with that breath detected fresh air.  An extremely dim glow was coming from the far wall and Carly slowly lifted herself from the smooth cold floor to crawl over towards it.  Pressing her hands against the wall, she rose to see an LCD display monitor behind the surface of the wall.  Were the walls made of glass? She beat against it with the side of her closed fist, but the wall was solid, unyielding.

The monitor displayed a woman's face.  Could she hear her?  Who was she?  The frightened woman screamed at the monitor, pleading with this unknown face to let her go.  But then the screen disappeared, plunging the interior of the box into a black void once again.  The fresh air she had been enjoying seemed to disappear as well.  

Carly's pounding on the wall intensified, the brief illumination of her prison giving her a reference of space and the knowledge that the darkness was not necessarily permanent.  But soon her lungs ached and her thoughts returned to survival, to conserving what oxygen remained in the box.  Leaning against the wall, she suddenly felt dizzy and sank to her knees, gasping for a full breath.

This cycle was repeated countless times until Carly stood by that spot in the box, waiting to see the woman's lovely face appear, and waiting for the oxygen to be restored.  She didn't beat against the wall now, just leaned there, looking at the woman's image, hoping she would somehow save her.  Even in her dream, Carly felt safe when the woman appeared.  Even in her dream, she felt herself relax, releasing the stress that the earlier part of the dream had caused her.

Carly awoke with a start, shaking the dream from her head, as she felt a tingling sensation in her bare buttocks. Seconds later the sensation began to spread outwards along the smooth plastic plank she lay on.  Seeing a soft glow in the box, she quickly sat up to slide her feet off and onto the floor, before that tingling became a horrible pain.  

A tiny ray of light from above illuminated the toilet and she moved quickly towards it.  The porcelain fixture was unlike anything she had ever seen and was really a marvel of technology.  She had come to realize that whoever had constructed this box she called home must have been a genius.  Well, sort of an evil genius, she supposed.

Stepping over the short round fixture, she slowly lowered herself into its womb.  Picture one of those plastic trashcans that have the domed tops that swing back and forth, allowing trash to be deposited from either side.  Remove the swinging door, shorten the base, construct it out of porcelain, and make it incredibly smooth and contoured.  That was her toilet.  She knelt with her legs straddling its cool smooth sides, her crotch surrounded by its rounded surfaces.

It took only a minute for the young woman to release her bowels.  She assumed the diet she was fed was high in fiber and probably contained ingredients that made such easy defecation possible.  Regardless, she was grateful for it, and silently thanked her Mistress for taking such good care of her.  It had not always been that way, for when she was still that other person, the untamed one, she couldn't pass her waste so easily and the longer she knelt upon the fixture, the more intense the pain became.  

The energy had attacked her knees as she knelt, causing her to jump up away from the toilet.  She hadn't realized that the entire floor was electrified and began to hop from one foot to the other trying to cope with the sudden intense pain.  The dance continued while she tried to figure out what to do.  The sliver of white light still illuminated the toilet, and she finally managed to mount it again.  The flow of current beneath her stopped for several minutes before she began to feel the sensation in her knees again.  Frantic now, Carly forced herself to expel her waste, the pain of achieving that causing her to scream.  But at least the tingling below her knees had stopped.  

Now, her eyes closed as jets of water doused her flesh, cleansing her, and then smiled as a waft of hot air dried her.  That air felt good against the bare flesh of her groin and had become a sensation she looked forward to each time.

She looked down at the floor, black as night, as were all the walls.  But within the surface of the floor, and all of the walls, and every fixture within her box, was the energy that disciplined her.  Electricity, controlled from outside the box, controlled by her Mistress.  Should she fail to comply with a command, that energy was immediately released.

It had been difficult to understand what was happening to her at first, difficult to understand the commands and what was expected of her.  And because of that, she suffered horribly.  It didn't take long, however, for her to realize that she was commanded by the tiny rays of light and by the various monitors around the interior of the box.  Her first lesson was in the form of an exercise routine displayed on one of the LCD monitors.

Staring at the screen, Carly was bewildered as to why she was being shown these images.  It was a black and white video of several dozen North Korean schoolgirls in drab gray uniforms, doing jumping jacks in perfect synchronicity.  It was bizarre!  Standing before the soft glow of the monitor, Carly felt the current beneath her feet growing in intensity.  It felt funny, and she giggled, as it seemed to tickle her bare soles.  But then she grew concerned as the tingling changed into something a little more uncomfortable.  She began her little dance, hopping on one foot and then the other, screaming out for whoever was doing this to stop!

Looking at the monitor, she had an idea, and began to perform the same exercise as was being shown.  The current instantly stopped.  She felt silly, jumping naked, her breasts bouncing in front of her.  Not that there was that much flesh bouncing, but what she had felt very odd jiggling unrestrained.  She continued to move her feet while holding her breasts, but let out a scream as her feet touched the floor and felt a powerful jolt.  Falling to the floor, she cried out as the pain assaulted her.

In the soft glow of the monitor she looked up to see the molded bed, jutting out from the wall, and had jumped up to throw herself onto it, only to scream as the energy continued to surge through her.  Landing back on her feet, she immediately began to perform the exercise correctly, feeling the painful punishment immediately subside.

And thus she learned how she was to be controlled, how she was to be trained.  There were no doubts now that she was being trained, even brainwashed.  The realization that her thought processes had been altered was not lost on her.  She fully understood that certain things brought her pleasure that would not have done so before.

Thinking about pleasure made Carly thirsty.  Well, it made her lick her lips, at least.  The thirst part was possibly a response to what she knew she had been conditioned to feel.  She glanced to her left to gaze at a fixture in the box that she had come to think of as a sculpture.  It was certainly beautifully crafted, made of the same smooth material as most everything else in the box.

The Sculpture of Life, that's what she had come to call it in her mind at least, because without it she would probably die of hunger or thirst.  The sculpture was a round pillar, about a foot in diameter, rising two feet from the floor.  Sitting atop the rounded top of the pillar was a large phallus.  Near the top of the pillar, jutting out horizontally away from it was another phallus, of similar girth as the one atop the sculpture, but half the length.  On the opposite side of the rounded sculpture were two 'appendages' about ten inches long and six inches in diameter, in the shape of a vee.  Where the two appendages met at the pillar was, for want of a better word, a cunt.  One of the few things in her box not made out of the hard black material, the cunt was made out of some sort of material that was soft and pliable.

Carly looked up as she noticed her box begin to darken.  The small pin light overhead was dimming.  Wishing she could go to the cunt, Carly resigned herself to remain straddling the toilet.  After some time her knees grew tired, but she willed herself to remain upright, to not give in to the temptation of resting against the smooth contours of the commode.  Experience told her she would receive a shock if she used the structure to support herself.  She prayed that the toilet structure's more sinister feature would soon be deployed, and knew that the chance of receiving the abuse she craved grew with each passing moment.

Patience.  It was a word that she knew all too well now.  Just be patient.  Remain motionless and wait for instructions.