The estate agent, Tracey, had come to view the property up for sale. It had just gone on the market, after the disappearance of its owner, Phillipa Dubois. She had been a multi-billionaire; nothing had been too expensive for her. The property itself was on the market for five hundred million…

She looked through the rooms. No expense had been spared. Everything could be operated automatically, from the curtains to the lighting to the kitchen appliances. Indeed, the first visitors to the home after Phillipa’s disappearance had found the house cooking dinner and automatically laying the table…

Exploring, Tracey had found a hidden door under the stairs. It opened onto another set of stairs, leading down to a cellar.

Lying on a cot in the cellar was a figure. It looked like a very expensive sex doll; the face, however, was completely featureless. The whole cellar was laid out like a dungeon; shackles hanging from walls, a full-size cage swinging gently on a chain and various hoods and suits on the shelves. She was still looking around as the doll sat up behind her…

The dolls hands around her neck came as a complete shock. With incredible strength, they squeezed. Frantically trying to get free and struggling to breathe, Tracey passed out in the dolls arms…

Phillipa Dubois, now Doll P1, looked down at Tracey, unconscious on the floor. Good, more raw materials. Better get her changed, quickly, and start her training…

She quickly undressed Tracey, sealed her mouth shut, then got out another suit. It took her a few minutes to fit the suit on Tracey, and she smoothed the featureless mask over Tracey’s face. Pushing the seam closed at the back of the suit, she watched dispassionately as the seam welded itself shut. Tracey was now trapped in the suit, just as she was in hers. She then fitted the training collar around Tracey’s neck and waited for her to wake up.

Tracey stirred on her bunk, sat up and shook her head. Seeing the colour of her hands she was instantly awake…

She pawed and scrabbled at the suit, trying to get it off. At the same time, P1 started the collar working.

The first shock was more of a surprise. The second one, however, really hurt! Tracey pawed at where her mouth should have been, trying to open it, and yanked at the collar. The collar shocked her again.

Mewling with pain, Tracey got up and tried to head for the exit. The next shock hurt so much she moaned loudly and sank to her knees, clawing at the collar. At the same time, P1 stood in her line of vision and pointed back to the cot. Tracey shook her head.

Zap! The next shock caused spots in front of her eyes. Once again, P1 pointed to the cot.

Sadly, still on her knees, Tracey turned round and stood up, then went back to the cot, sitting on the side of it. P1 swung her legs back onto the cot and gently pushed her down. She then plugged a cable into a socket on the side of her collar.

“Thank you for joining our training programme”, the voice said. “We are glad that you have decided to offer yourself as a servant for your betters. We are already aware of your original identity; this will no longer be required. From now on, you are Doll-T1. You will assist Doll-P1 in maintaining this property and providing any services that the owners require of you. Refusing an order will be punished; performing well will be just as quickly rewarded.”

At that point, the vibrator built into the suit pulsed in Tracey’s vagina. She moaned quietly.

“We see that you understand”, the voice continued. “Now, seeing as you have prospective owners viewing the property today, you and P1 can tidy up. Also, make sure that no-one except yourselves can find this room. It is for doll training only, at the moment, until we find out about the proclivities of the new owner(s).”

Tracey, now T1, stood back up, and she and P1 got on with cleaning the house. There wasn’t much to do; P1 also showed T1 their quarters, with their charging stations. There were two of these; it had obviously always been planned for two servants to be working there.

P1 showed T1 how to ‘straddle’ the charging station; She sobbed quietly as the rod entered her anus, and the clamps closed around her ankles. The material that the suits were made from was such that it could hold her upright, even if she fell asleep; this she did, exhausted from the trauma she had gone through.

P1 carried on cleaning for a while; it was nice to have someone to share the workload, now, but even so she wouldn’t have wished this existence on anyone. She had been ‘captured’ by the house AI; it had tripped her, one evening, and made sure she landed exactly on a hidden trapdoor in the hall. The trapdoor had shot her down a chute and straight into the waiting Doll suit at the end of it, automatically sealing it over her head and fitting her with her collar. Training had been very painful; it had taken her a lot longer than the ‘new girl’ to get used to being a doll…