You kneel on the soft pad in the middle of your training cell. It feels like a gym mat, saving your knees from the pain of the concrete around it. Small mercies.
You look at the cocks dangling from the wall, each one a small but perfectly formed fleshlike silicone. They all have a tube running through them to provide their purpose to you while you provide your service to them. Toys training toys.
"Unit 435 will learn the value of using its mouth for pleasure. Other functions will be rendered irrelevant."
You try to ask a question but even before the first word leaves your throat the collar detects and corrects, fizzing sparks of pain into you and causing you to flop to the ground.
"Unit 435 must not speak. Speaking is for people. This lesson will be taught with the collar until such time as it is no longer possible for Unit 435 to speak."
The thought of losing your voice is terrifying but... you can't help but feel a twinge deep inside. A big leap of faith comes with a big reward.
You've heard the rumours and the chatter in the kink forums. Training House slaves are some of the most prized possessions and a life of luxury awaits those who get sold. Only the richest of perverts can afford to support all this tech, after all.
You inch over to the shower door. It is a thinner cock than the others, but slightly higher up. You tentatively reach up and touch it with your fingertips, punished immediately with a shock that floors you.
"Unit 435 will only interact with the mouth."
You have to kneel higher, buttocks raised up off your ankles, to even reach it with your mouth. You slip the head of it in and begin running your tongue over it. A beeper starts, three beeps. You freeze, unsure what to do, and a foul tasting gel is dropped on your tongue.
You spit it out and wince, looking at the green goo between your knees. The collar shocks you.