The Male

Now that your hands are free, you're sure that getting your food will be easier on your jaw. You kneel down in front of the plastic cock and begin to stroke it with one hand. This is your purpose. You are a tool. A sex toy for others. You need cum. You live for it. The unfortunate chorus continues. The motion is awkward since there is no skin to move back and forth, so you lighten your grip and slide up and down the plastic. You realize that the two toys are close enough that you could work on both of them at the same time, so you reach your other hand over and begin to rub the pussy next to you. You are struck again by the degrading nature of what you must do to eat, you are kneeling between two mannequin sex dolls and masturbating them in hopes of some soup. At least you don't have to put your mouth on them, and now the 50/50 goes a bit quicker with both hands working. This is your purpose. You are a tool. A sex toy for others. You need cum. You live for it. You rub and rub for a very long while, soon becoming impatient as your arms start to get tired.

This feels like it's taking longer than it did before, could this be the trade off for not sucking or licking? Your gut tells you that the soup will come out of the cock this time, since its what you want least. You give up on rubbing the pussy and put both hands on the fake dong, rubbing vigorously along its length. This is your purpose. You are a tool. A sex toy for others. You need cum. You live for it. You are suddenly very determined to get this over with. You blink as a subtle stream of liquid begins to seep from the tip of the silicon cock. It didn't do that before, did it? Well, I guess I couldn't tell when I was sucking on it. You shake your head and try to ignore the growing stream of fluid seeping down onto your hands, and concentrate on the work. A moment later your hands slide a bit further up than usual and catch some of the liquid, causing your hands to slip and slide loudly along the length of the fake dick. It's Lube? You don't question it beyond that, bringing your hands up to the tip and coating them in the precum lubricant. Whatever makes this quicker. Now gliding easily along the cock, you stroke fast and strong, trying to pull the stupid soup out as your stomach continues to rumble in hunger. This is your purpose. You are a tool. A sex toy for others. You need cum. You live for it. With every few strokes, the cock seeps another dollop of lube. You're sure you should have noticed this before. Even if you were sucking on it, this is a large volume of fluid coming out. You let go of one hand and take a quick taste-test, unable to resist the temptation. Completely Flavorless. It does have a somewhat slimy texture, but you can taste nothing. No wonder you didn't notice it, it would have been indecipherable from your own spit.

The slick sounds that your hands make are embarrassing, despite having done worse not long ago. You really wish the damn thing would shut up. This is your purpose. You are a tool. A sex toy for others. You need cum. You live for it. Can't let it bother me, I'm starving. Gripping your hands even more firmly, you stroke with a hunger that surprises you. You can taste the soup, you know it's coming. You want this to be over, to be full so that you can worry about more important things, like who's gonna come through your door next. When is that man going to return with my escape plans? Was he ever actually going to help me, or is it some kind of ruse by this terrible place? You are lost in thought when a fluid begins pumping out of the lubed up silicone cock. You are certain that it is soup, and without looking you put your mouth over the tip of the cock. This is your purpose. You are a tool. A sex toy for others. You need cum. You live for [it.

It was not soup.

You gag involuntarily as a thick, warm blast of cum hits the back of your throat. Immediately spitting it out onto the floor, you reel back and can't help but laugh. Of Fucking COURSE! You spit out any remnants of jizz onto the floor and sigh heavily.

"Do not leave a mess, ****." A voice comes from above you. "You would not want me to find your room dirty. This is your first, and _final _warning. Think of it as proper workmanship, a professional swallows their master's gifts."

You do not like the sounds of that, of any of this. Either scrape this cum off the floor with my bear hands, or await some obviously unwanted consequences.