There is a horrible sinking feeling in her gut. The feeling of the cuffs grate against her. They're alpha sized and heavy, and she can already feel them rubbing at the sensitive flesh on her wrists.
As they march her through the hallways, she realizes how little of the prison she's actually seen. The contingent of guards lead her through a maze of double locked hallways with biometric scans on either end. The man behind her shoves her through each one so she almost stumbles and falls each time, only barely keeping herself upright.
She can't let herself be vulnerable in front of these people. She doesn't know what will happen if she is, but she knows it won't be good.
The cellblock they finally lead her onto is awful. There is no other word for it. It is dark and dirty and she jumps as whoever is in the cell closest to the door starts howling. There are no bars on these doors, just a flat expanse of cold metal.
"Here," the guard grunts. "This is you."
It's the cell next to the howling man. There is no window, no dresser, no shelves or books or blankets or pillow or sheets. Just one rubbery looking waterproof mattress on the floor and a toilet and sink combo in the corner.
Death would have been better than this. But she has something to live for now. She has to survive this. She has mates she has to return to.
The guard walks into the cell with her and tells her to face the wall. He removes her cuffs and then steps back, closing the door behind him before he tells her she can move again.
She turns around just in time to see him open a small face sized window with a shutter that can only be opened and closed from the outside.
"Breakfast is in twenty minutes," he says, and then closes it. There's a small tray sized slot in the door below it, but that's it. She is trapped in this box, alone.
A scream builds in her throat, but she stifles it down.
She can't crack. She can't. She has to survive this for her mates.
The walls feel like they're closing in around her. She begins to pace.
Four steps across, turn, then four steps back.
The walls are not closing in. It's four steps across, turn, then four steps back. She does it again, over and over and over, her rubbery shoes squeaking on the floor. Four steps across, turn, then four steps back.
The tray slot opens, and another guard is there yelling "Soup's up!"
She takes the tray and looks down at it. There is an unidentified meat patty that might be sausage, a greasy dollop of margarine, a spoonful of rubbery powdered eggs, a fruit cup, and a cup of foul-smelling coffee. Her stomach rolls at the sight.
Her mates had been providing for all her meals, ensuring she was eating a balanced diet as much as they possibly could inhere. She hadn't had to think about her meal since that first day. They seemed to arrange it around her without her even noticing. And when she was with her mates, she hardly noticed the food anyways, she was so focussed on them.
She sits cross legged and puts the tray on the floor in front of her, studying it. She forces herself to move, to pick up the food with her hands–there are no utensils here–and begin to feed herself. She eats some of the eggs and the fruit cup and dumps the coffee in the toilet before refilling it with water from the sink a few times, gulping it down quickly. After she finishes the food, she sits back down and stares at the door.
She pictures it opening in her mind, pictures Luke and Tenor and Julius standing there, arms open, ready to hold her and purr for her. To fill her with their cocks and their knots.
No, she can't think of that. She doesn't want the scent of her arousal to fill the air. There is no one here to stop them if someone decides they want to come to her cell and...
No, she can't think of that either. But a sudden terrifying thought occurs to her. What if she has another heat spike? With the adrenaline running in her body, it's only a matter of time. Or.... her heat. The real thing. She knows she's been on borrowed time, trying hard not to think about the inevitable. What if she goes into full blown estrous in this cell?
She needs a distraction, anything. She's seen her mates working out in their cell and she tries to recreate their workouts. She shoves the tray into the corner, giving her room to work.
She can only do fourteen push ups until her arms collapse. She turns onto her back and starts doing crunches until her abs are shaking. On her feet then, she makes it to twenty-five squats until her legs feel like they're going to give out.
She lays onto her back, her breath heaving, and she stares up at the ceiling, her mind blank.
The walls are closing in.
She jumps back to her feet, forcing herself to walk again. Four paces across, turn, then four paces back. Four paces across, turn, then four paces back. Again and again and again.
There's a scream sitting in her throat, but she doesn't let it out.
Lunch arrives. She passes them her breakfast tray and then they hand the lunch tray to her. It's some sort of meatloaf and a side of slimy powdered mashed potatoes. She eats the potatoes and takes one bite of the meatloaf before spitting it out. She drinks a few more cups of water and then puts the tray in the corner.
Fourteen push ups, twenty crunches, twenty-five squats. Then walking, four paces across, turn, four paces back.
