The hard plastic cage covering your privates didn't let any sense of feeling through, but for some reason you tried to still tug on it even if you knew it was a hopeless endeavor.
The bunny outfit was embarrassing enough, but the cage they forced you to wear at your new job for the "Protection of the female workers" felt like just too much. But as your manager keeps reminding you, you signed a one year contract and it is solid.
These days the girly looks and the cage were just part of the normal attire your mistress expected of you, however the leaking in the cage that was constant, was punishable by a whip, cane, or longer sentence. It all depended on her mood.
