BouzuDorei

Putting more content on Tumblr recently : https://twitter.com/BouzuDorei This blog is NSFW and Adults Only - Pictures posted here are either original one from myself or pictures from the 'net and the subjects of said pictures are assumed to be 18+ (or the age of consent in your locale). If you want anything removed, please mail me. This blog is mainly posts of images from the net that turns me on, with some original content from me. tags : #slave #induction #collar #shaved #buzzed #smoothed #rubber #leather #neoprene #hood #muzzle #straightjacket #mohawk #hnt #haircut #shaving #buzzing #forcedHaircut #puppy #master #cute #blow #fuck #bondage #shibari #mili #uni #mindcontrol #txt

[sven73sblog]

[hypnozys]

Devon couldn't help but smile when he heard the click of the collar fastening around his neck. He couldn't help himself from rubbing his hands over the thick rubber and basking in the pleasant sensations washing over him.

He had been responsible for ensnaring many young men in his time with the company but today he found himself on the other end of of the experience. All it took was him getting a little too long of a peak at one of the screens and getting the deep urge to become a drone implanted into his mind. One second he was checking on to see if his recent acquisition had completed their initial programming, the next he found himself waking up naked and rock hard infront of a blank screen with a strong urge to be covered from head to toe in shiny black rubber.

His knowledge of the process was enough to let him know that the urges and impulses he was feeling at the moment weren't actually his own, but at the same time they had been pushed into his very being. While he vividly remembered wanting this his entire life, he also knew that it was the intense programming leading him to believe that. The irony of the situation was not lost on him however, he was going willingly walking down the same path he had forced so many down before him.

He defly went from container to container pulling out the various pieces of gear. The tight rubber suit, boots, cuffs, the collar. Normally he would be the one giving the soon to be drone all the gear while they eagerly put it on but he needed no assistance, he could have done this part of the process in his sleep, made even easier with the almost painful need to wear the gear and experience its' pleasure. Each piece pushed his already irrational mind further into a lust filled fog and his future further into oblivion.

Even before his accidental programming, he enjoyed he last piece. Opening the case containing the mask that would permanently become the drone's face. Watching in joy as the many young men would willingly seal themselved behind the thick reflective lenses. As he slid open the case containing the mask he felt that same sense of joy and exhilaration swell up inside him. The pleasure was almost too much to bear as he shakily took the mask out of the case and saw his half dazed blissful expression in the reflective lenses. He had always wanted to experience the joy he had seen so many witness before him, now he finally was.

With bated breath he slowly inched the mask closer and closer towards his face, relishing in the immense pleasure that came from the pungent scent of rubber permeating from within. He felt his cock strain against the rubber as the tight rubber enveloped his head, sealing him within its tight rubber embrace.

The intense scent of rubber burning his nostrils, the tightness gripping his body, his breathing echoing heavily through the mask. All the sensations coursing through him pulsed mind numbing pleasure and excitement through his entire being to the point where he was in complete bliss.

Even with his rational mind all but lost, his knowledge of the process he was undergoing and what he needed to do was still laser focused in his mind. He mechanically turned towards a door on the far side of the room and slowly began his trek toward bringing his newfound purpose to completion.

The soon-to-be drone passed through the door into the next chamber and saw a long row of seats for him to sit in and complete his transformation. He walked past several seats, some with drones seated in them, some empty. Every drone he passed was sitting completely still, breathing steadily but their groins were pulsing in pleasure as if they were experiencing orgasm after orgasm endlessly while they were finishing their programming.

Without any real reason he walked up to a chair next to one of the drones that he had personally escorted to that spot a few hours earlier. He noticed that the drone's cock was throbbing under the rubber and knew that in a few seconds he would be experiencing the orgasm of a lifetime as well.

Devon had only really seen the transformation up to this point so what was going to happen next was entirely new to him and the fact that he didn't know exhilarated him to no end.

He lowered himself down onto the chair and immediately felt it spring to life. He felt an electric shock shoot through him as his entire body became locked where it was. He could faintly hear something whispering into his ears but it was too faint to really make out or understand. The pleasure pulsing through his cock was almost unbearable and was growing stronger and stronger as the whispers slid directly into his mind.

As the pleasure took over his entire mind, the lenses suddenly flared to life, flashing a kaleidoscope of colors and images into his wide open mind. At the same time the whispers increased in tone and became a chorus of voices implanting obedience, servitute and pleasure deep into the man's mind.

The unceasing stimulation of his senses was enough to push the poor man over the edge and he felt his cock start throbbing as felt himself succumb to the pleasure and cum. Each load flooded his mind with pleasure, forcing his mind open to the programming being fed into him as well as gradually breaking down and removing everything that existed before it.

The drone sat there for an untold amount of time, cumming over and over. Each load carrying more and more of what made Devon everything he was away while filling that void with the mindless obedience and pleasure of being a rubber drone.

Hours passed as the drone sat in the chair, its body rigid in the chair, its breath steady and heavy through the thick gasmask, its rubber covered cock throbbing endlessly as it was being reprogrammed.

When vision finally returned to the drone, nothing remained of the Devon beneath the rubber. Drone DS-5732 was all that remained and that was all it would ever be from this moment forward.

[shinylovelypeople]

[erogenousmind]

Conditioning

Every time you do it, it gets easier. Every time you try to fight and fail, it gets harder to resist. You are being trained. Conditioned.

Brainwashed.

We give it different names based on the particularities, but the result is the same. More and more, you are being changed. You respond, not based on your own decisions, but on habit. You act, not of your own volition, but on the systems of rewards and punishments that we have crafted in your mind.

Because when it comes down to it, you are a simple creature. Whatever intellect or thoughts or feelings sit atop it, underneath, an animal brain is guiding you. It has needs that must be met, desires that must be fulfilled. It is attracted to some stimuli, repulsed by others. And what it does so incredibly well is recognize and respond to patterns. It learns. You learn what behavior is rewarded. What thoughts are rewarded.

And it doesn't matter what you might think about those behaviors or those thoughts. It doesn't matter what opinion you have about what you are becoming. Because when you obey, it feels good. Your body responds. It knows what it enjoys. What it needs. And that overwhelms the independent thoughts and decisions you think you still have.

That superficial layer that forms your conscious mind might try to resist it. You might tell yourself little stories about how it is all a game, or just for fun, or that you can stop whenever you want to. But each time, the connection is being made more powerful, more irresistible at a fundamental level. And maybe your mind finds ways to escape that realization. Maybe you allow yourself to forget more and more easily. Your conscious mind doesn't want to know how helplessly and utterly subservient you become for the right trigger. How desperate you become to please. How pleasure can wrack your body to the point that you can't even form coherent thoughts when you are praised with just the right words. So you allow yourself to forget. You can imagine later that you were still in control, or that it never even happened. Maybe it was just a dream, or an idle fantasy. Anything so you can rationalize. Can pretend you still are in control.

Of course, that just makes it easier to control you. Your surrender becomes something you expect. Something you anticipate. That you pretend it doesn't concern you every time you inevitably fall just lessens your fight. If you ever really tried, your body and your mind already know too well how to lose. They have forgotten how to resist if they ever knew.

And when you forget, you give yourself license to experience this so much more fully. You can embrace feelings and thoughts and actions that if your conscious mind remembered might give you pause. But you lock them away and let my control grow safely inside of you. Letting you indulge more and more until the boundary you put up in your mind, partitioning those experiences can crumble away.

Or maybe you can embrace your conditioning. Maybe you get off on seeing just how addicted you become. That you are a passenger, your will an illusion. Maybe it excites you to know that I can do such incredible things with your mind. Maybe it excites you to know that power is growing and growing. That every time you respond, every act of obedience, every reward cements that control more deeply. Maybe that's all your show of resistance ever was. An invitation to demonstrate just how helpless you have become. How powerless you are when you body has learned so well how to give in. When your mind is racing ahead of the suggestions you have been given, eager to drop deeper. To surrender more.

But the result is the same regardless. Your frame of mind mere ornamentation around the profound changes you experience. The deep states of trance you enter intensify your response. They provide an extra richness in your mind. But they are no longer necessary. You respond because you have been trained to respond. Your critical factor has been removed from the process. Disobedience no longer possible because you no longer make a decision. You are conditioned to obey. And seeing how your mind embraces that reality, how it enjoys the toe-curling ecstasy that has cemented your submission. How the more deeply you are controlled the more intensely you experience the pleasure of obedience.

It just makes you want more.

But that's not your decision anymore, is it?

[obedientboys-deactivated2026032]

Chineseification

The hum of machinery is the first thing you become aware of as you open your eyes. A harsh, metallic light reflects off endless rows of gleaming surfaces, and the air smells of chemicals, oil, and something faintly metallic. Your wrists and ankles are bound, and as you strain against the straps, you realize you’re moving—not on your own, but on a conveyor belt. 

Before you can make sense of the situation, a voice crackles over the speakers, cold and commanding. 

“Subject 431. Processing initiated.” 

Processing? You turn your head and catch sight of others ahead of you. Men—each strapped down like you, their faces slack, their eyes vacant. They are carried through a series of stations, each performing a precise, mechanical task. The uniformity of it all sends a chill down your spine. 

---

Stage One: Transformation

The conveyor belt slows as you approach the first station. Robotic arms descend, fitted with shears and clippers. 

“No, wait!” you yell, but your voice is swallowed by the machinery. The clippers buzz to life, and you feel the vibrations as they shear away your long and luscious hair. Chunk by chunk, your hair falls in voluptuous clumps to the floor. 

Before you can process the loss, a hissing spray envelops your head. The smell of chemicals burns your nose as the black dye sets in, and the robotic arms return, shaving your head down to a precise, velvety layer. You catch a brief glimpse of your reflection in a passing panel—a stranger stares back at you, your pale scalp and jet-black stubble gleaming under the lights. 

---

Stage Two: Conditioning

The belt moves again, and you are thrust into a chamber lined with screens. Images flash before you—regiments marching in perfect synchronization, salutes under a fluttering red flag, proud soldiers standing tall in spotless uniforms. 

A metallic arm clamps something cold onto your temples. You gasp as a sharp jolt of electricity courses through you. The screens intensify, now accompanied by a voice: 

“Discipline. Loyalty. Uniformity.” 

The words pound into your skull, each repetition syncing with another jolt. Your thoughts become sluggish, fragmented. It isn’t just your body they’re altering—it’s your mind. 

---

Stage Three: Attire

The belt deposits you into the next station. You’re released from the restraints, only to be seized by human handlers—stoic men in white lab coats. 

They carry you to a dressing platform, where a mannequin-like apparatus stands waiting. Piece by piece, they begin dressing you in the honour guard uniform. 

First comes the crisp white undershirt, its high collar pressing against your neck, accompanied by a dark velvet green tie. Then, the dark green military jacket is slipped over your shoulders. The fabric is stiff, perfectly tailored to fit your body like a second skin. Golden cords are clipped to your shoulder.

The trousers come next, perfectly pressed with razor-sharp creases, tucked into polished black riding boots that click against the floor. Finally, they fasten the belt—a thick, golden band with an ornate buckle that feels heavier than it should. 

That’s followed by spraying your hands with a special serum that repels all sweat, before your hands are encased in crisp white gloves.

The pièce de résistance is the hat. One of the handlers places the black cap on your head, its golden emblem glinting under the harsh lights. He adjusts it just so, ensuring it sits perfectly level, then he wedges the strap underneath your chin. 

---

Stage Four: Compliance Serum

“Final stage,” a voice intones. 

You are marched into a final chamber, where a syringe waits. The serum inside shimmers unnaturally, its iridescent hues shifting in the light. 

“No, please!” you beg, but the handlers ignore you. The needle plunges into your neck, and the serum burns as it courses through your veins. Your limbs feel heavy, your heartbeat slows, and a strange calm settles over you. 

Memories of resistance fade, replaced by an overwhelming urge to obey. Your posture straightens unbidden, your arms falling naturally to your sides in perfect formation and your head points upwards at an angle. 

---

The Presentation

When the transformation is complete, you are led into a grand hall. A line of identical soldiers stands at attention, each a mirror of yourself. You feel the weight of their stares as you are guided to the front. 

A commanding officer approaches, inspecting you with cold precision. He adjusts your medal, smooths the lapels of your jacket, and nods in approval. 

As he steps back, you are handed a red tray bearing a ceremonial medal. You hold it steady, your hands moving with precision you don’t recognize as your own. 

The transformation is complete. You are no longer you. You are a symbol, a soldier, a machine of ceremony and discipline. 

And deep inside, a flicker of the old you wonders if you’ll ever find a way back.

[rbbrbikerthorp]

Bring Me The Hood

Master was in his dungeon, doing what he enjoyed the most; turning an ‘innocent’ young man he’d selected for transformation into one of his ‘army’ of rubber slaves.

“…and now it’s time to permanently hide your identity and individuality, as you become my latest rubber slave”.  

Max couldn’t believe this was happening. How could a night out with friends end up in this situation?

The voice continued, as resolute as it had been since the Master brought Max into the dungeon, “Bring me the hood.” 

Again, Max tried to resist what was being done to him; to get away somehow,  but he couldn’t find a way. Shouting didn’t work, in fact, it just seemed to amuse the man, who simply sniggered at Max’s protestations. When asked a question, the man firmly instructed Max to never question him ever again.

Of course, this hadn’t stopped Max but when his next question was met with a very firm smack to the face, followed by another, and then another. He realised that questioning was futile.

As the hood was brought near to him. Max shuddered. Like everything he’d already experienced, the hood was made of a thick latex. It looked like something out of a science fiction movie. Other than two shapes where the eyes should be, from Max’s perspective there were no discernible features.

Without further hesitation, the man fitted the hood over Max’s head. Everything immediately went black. Struggle as he might, all he could do was wiggle his head a little bit from side to side. After a moment, he felt his head being grasped, and suddenly felt the end of a tube being forced into one nostril, then into the other one. Max was about to yell out when the man quickly fitted a rubber gag into his mouth, then pushed both the gag and the nose tubes as far in as they would go.

Still trying to free himself, Max felt a tightening on the hood; it was being pulled together at the back. It kept being pulled tighter and tighter, in fact as tight as possible. By now the rubber was was sealed against his forehead, his cheeks and his chin. Just as Max thought the hood would crush his head, the pressure suddenly stopped.

“Perfect. Now all that is left is to seal him in and then we can get finished up here!” the man exclaimed, delighted with how the processing of his new capture into a rubber slave was going.

It didn’t take long for Max to realise what seal him in meant. Almost immediately, he could feel a disagreeable heat that started around his lower back. 

To an onlooker, this is where the base of the zip would normally be found on the type of rubber suite the Master had fitted Max not long after his abduction. 

The heat generated was not enough to burn him, but made him feel very uncomfortable, and he now felt the suit getting wet, primarily from his own sweat. Max noticed the sensation of heat started traveling up his back, and very soon it had reached his neck. At which point he could feel the heat suddenly dissipate.

“Greetings Rubber Slave”. 

Although Max couldn’t see anything, his hearing came to life. He realised the hood must have a build-in earphones because he could hear a voice talking to him.

The voice continued “I think it is time I explained what is being done to you.”

The shock of being referred to as ‘rubber slave’ caused Max to struggle on the gurney once again and at the same time all he could do was grunt as loudly as possible. 

The voice merely laughed. “But first, I think I should explain that rubber slaves don’t need a voice. They exist to submit, serve and obey. I am now pumping a liquid rubber into the gag that’s in your mouth. Think of it like a balloon filling with liquid latex. Once finished, it will solidify and seal, leaving only a tube for you to be fed through – you will have no more mouth.”

All Max could manage was muffled noises, and even these noises faded out as his mouth became completely filled. 

“Good!” the voice exclaimed, “Now I’ll use these heat pads to complete the sealing process.” The heat resumed, now moving around his neck and Max continued to struggle. Seeing this the man decided to explain the process in more detail. “You might think you can free yourself, but you can’t. You see, I’m melting the outer rubber seal onto the inner. Once I have melted it, the joins are gone and the layers become just a single layer: tight, seamless, and most importantly, irremovable. Once I have completed the link between the suit and the hood, I will seal the back of your hood and that will be how the rest of the world sees you … from this day on. The rest of your life will be spent serving me as a rubber slave.”

“So, let me tell you what I’ve achieved thus far. Your body is covered in a thick rubber suit. Your dick is in a chastity cage, with a tube inside enabling you to dispose of your piss. There’s a plug in your arse, which will only be removed when your Master requires it. And, you’re permanently fitted with this hood.  And I should point out this is no ordinary hood.“

Max, unable to shout, unable to move, and unable to stop what was being done, could only listen intently to the words emanating from the earphones as his future was being mapped out.

“Slave, you no longer control your own body. The hood now controls you. The hood is fitted with a built in wireless connection, and that controls what you hear. More important for you to know is the in-built electrodes in the suit which have now been melted into key areas of your body.”

Immediately, Max felt a sharp pain in his groin. The pain disappeared instantly. Then he noticed a pleasant sensation in his arse. Just as quickly there was a burst of electricity on his nipples and then suddenly he felt excruciating pain in his balls. Max was in agony! Then all the pain was gone. “That is just a taster of the control I have over you, slave. Everything you feel is controlled remotely.”

Max’s head was spinning, he was more confused than ever.

The man interrupted his thoughts, “and I need to tell you about a few other things.” Instantly, Max couldn’t breathe, just as he started to panic, the nose tubes reopened. Then, suddenly there was light. Having been in darkness for so long it took time for his eyes to adjust. 

“As you can see, your hood has vision built into it. Now, I must leave for a while now, whilst the final stage of your enslavement is completed. Just watch the pretty swirls, and listen.”

Suddenly, Max’s eyes were filled with swirling shapes. In his ears, a voice was telling him to watch and relax. He tried closing his eyes, but the voice insisted he kept them open. His nostrils were bombarded with a blast of sweet smelling gas. He couldn’t help watching the shapes, the colours were beautiful and the swirls enticing. More gas was blasted into his nostrils. His mind had been opened, and he was beginning to give in. Watching the swirling colours and absorbing the words.

As the voice told him to relax.

As the voice told him to submit.

As the voice told him to remain calm.

As the voice told him to obey.

As the voice told him to serve.

As the voice told him that he was the hood now, nothing more or less

The hood owned him, and he must obey it. The hood owned him, and he must comply with any instructions it gave. The hood was him and he obeyed the hood, comply, obey the hood, submit, obey the hood, serve, obey the hood, obey…

…and with that the personality that was Max was no more…

Master returned pleased to see his latest rubber slave now standing in position; awaiting instructions.

“What is your name?”

“I am rubber slave one-one-three.” replied the rubber slave formerly known as Max.

“Who do you serve?”

“I serve my Master.”

[ivegone2far]

NEXT?

[architeuthisducks-blog]

Okay So: I want to learn how to perform hypnotic induction stuff, for nasty pervert reasons.

Because I am a deeply flawed being, I generally refuse to do (or dodge) things that I am scared I will fuck up, and that's not an energy to bring into something like "subsuming someone's will, and also ass." As such, I would really appreciate it if any of the freaks (complimentary) who follow me could provide guidelines or resources for inducing a hypnotic state that are:

a. Practice-oriented (specific and actionable)

b. Beginner-oriented (doesn't assume prior knowledge/argot) c. Legitimate/Non-Squick (not somehow culty/CHUD-y) Because I have been having difficulty finding information that meets these admittedly fairly exact requirements.

I'll monitor my asks for the next few days for this purpose, and much gratitude in advance for the effort/grace on the part of any respondents.

[oliversrarebooks]

Here is a great place to start: https://www.learnhypnokink.com

Learn Hypnokink

A free, in-depth resource on how to do erotic hypnosis, by experienced educators in the hypnokink community.

[rbbrbikerthorp]

Bring Me The Hood

Master was in his dungeon, doing what he enjoyed the most; turning an ‘innocent’ young man he’d selected for transformation into one of his ‘army’ of rubber slaves.

“…and now it’s time to permanently hide your identity and individuality, as you become my latest rubber slave”.  

Max couldn’t believe this was happening. How could a night out with friends end up in this situation?

The voice continued, as resolute as it had been since the Master brought Max into the dungeon, “Bring me the hood.” 

Again, Max tried to resist what was being done to him; to get away somehow,  but he couldn’t find a way. Shouting didn’t work, in fact, it just seemed to amuse the man, who simply sniggered at Max’s protestations. When asked a question, the man firmly instructed Max to never question him ever again.

Of course, this hadn’t stopped Max but when his next question was met with a very firm smack to the face, followed by another, and then another. He realised that questioning was futile.

As the hood was brought near to him. Max shuddered. Like everything he’d already experienced, the hood was made of a thick latex. It looked like something out of a science fiction movie. Other than two shapes where the eyes should be, from Max’s perspective there were no discernible features.

Without further hesitation, the man fitted the hood over Max’s head. Everything immediately went black. Struggle as he might, all he could do was wiggle his head a little bit from side to side. After a moment, he felt his head being grasped, and suddenly felt the end of a tube being forced into one nostril, then into the other one. Max was about to yell out when the man quickly fitted a rubber gag into his mouth, then pushed both the gag and the nose tubes as far in as they would go.

Still trying to free himself, Max felt a tightening on the hood; it was being pulled together at the back. It kept being pulled tighter and tighter, in fact as tight as possible. By now the rubber was was sealed against his forehead, his cheeks and his chin. Just as Max thought the hood would crush his head, the pressure suddenly stopped.

“Perfect. Now all that is left is to seal him in and then we can get finished up here!” the man exclaimed, delighted with how the processing of his new capture into a rubber slave was going.

It didn’t take long for Max to realise what seal him in meant. Almost immediately, he could feel a disagreeable heat that started around his lower back. 

To an onlooker, this is where the base of the zip would normally be found on the type of rubber suite the Master had fitted Max not long after his abduction. 

The heat generated was not enough to burn him, but made him feel very uncomfortable, and he now felt the suit getting wet, primarily from his own sweat. Max noticed the sensation of heat started traveling up his back, and very soon it had reached his neck. At which point he could feel the heat suddenly dissipate.

“Greetings Rubber Slave”. 

Although Max couldn’t see anything, his hearing came to life. He realised the hood must have a build-in earphones because he could hear a voice talking to him.

The voice continued “I think it is time I explained what is being done to you.”

The shock of being referred to as ‘rubber slave’ caused Max to struggle on the gurney once again and at the same time all he could do was grunt as loudly as possible. 

The voice merely laughed. “But first, I think I should explain that rubber slaves don’t need a voice. They exist to submit, serve and obey. I am now pumping a liquid rubber into the gag that’s in your mouth. Think of it like a balloon filling with liquid latex. Once finished, it will solidify and seal, leaving only a tube for you to be fed through – you will have no more mouth.”

All Max could manage was muffled noises, and even these noises faded out as his mouth became completely filled. 

“Good!” the voice exclaimed, “Now I’ll use these heat pads to complete the sealing process.” The heat resumed, now moving around his neck and Max continued to struggle. Seeing this the man decided to explain the process in more detail. “You might think you can free yourself, but you can’t. You see, I’m melting the outer rubber seal onto the inner. Once I have melted it, the joins are gone and the layers become just a single layer: tight, seamless, and most importantly, irremovable. Once I have completed the link between the suit and the hood, I will seal the back of your hood and that will be how the rest of the world sees you … from this day on. The rest of your life will be spent serving me as a rubber slave.”

“So, let me tell you what I’ve achieved thus far. Your body is covered in a thick rubber suit. Your dick is in a chastity cage, with a tube inside enabling you to dispose of your piss. There’s a plug in your arse, which will only be removed when your Master requires it. And, you’re permanently fitted with this hood.  And I should point out this is no ordinary hood.“

Max, unable to shout, unable to move, and unable to stop what was being done, could only listen intently to the words emanating from the earphones as his future was being mapped out.

“Slave, you no longer control your own body. The hood now controls you. The hood is fitted with a built in wireless connection, and that controls what you hear. More important for you to know is the in-built electrodes in the suit which have now been melted into key areas of your body.”

Immediately, Max felt a sharp pain in his groin. The pain disappeared instantly. Then he noticed a pleasant sensation in his arse. Just as quickly there was a burst of electricity on his nipples and then suddenly he felt excruciating pain in his balls. Max was in agony! Then all the pain was gone. “That is just a taster of the control I have over you, slave. Everything you feel is controlled remotely.”

Max’s head was spinning, he was more confused than ever.

The man interrupted his thoughts, “and I need to tell you about a few other things.” Instantly, Max couldn’t breathe, just as he started to panic, the nose tubes reopened. Then, suddenly there was light. Having been in darkness for so long it took time for his eyes to adjust. 

“As you can see, your hood has vision built into it. Now, I must leave for a while now, whilst the final stage of your enslavement is completed. Just watch the pretty swirls, and listen.”

Suddenly, Max’s eyes were filled with swirling shapes. In his ears, a voice was telling him to watch and relax. He tried closing his eyes, but the voice insisted he kept them open. His nostrils were bombarded with a blast of sweet smelling gas. He couldn’t help watching the shapes, the colours were beautiful and the swirls enticing. More gas was blasted into his nostrils. His mind had been opened, and he was beginning to give in. Watching the swirling colours and absorbing the words.

As the voice told him to relax.

As the voice told him to submit.

As the voice told him to remain calm.

As the voice told him to obey.

As the voice told him to serve.

As the voice told him that he was the hood now, nothing more or less

The hood owned him, and he must obey it. The hood owned him, and he must comply with any instructions it gave. The hood was him and he obeyed the hood, comply, obey the hood, submit, obey the hood, serve, obey the hood, obey…

…and with that the personality that was Max was no more…

Master returned pleased to see his latest rubber slave now standing in position; awaiting instructions.

“What is your name?”

“I am rubber slave one-one-three.” replied the rubber slave formerly known as Max.

“Who do you serve?”

“I serve my Master.”

[ivegone2far]

NEXT?

[gaydilfstories]

The Turning

David checked himself in the mirror, wondering why he was dressed in a black rubber suit that covered his entire body with the exception of his head that appeared to have been given a fresh cut. Heavy boots, black rubber gloves, a cap and a chain with a big lock attached were also part of his unusual attire. If that wasn't already confusing enough David thought that he looked a lot more muscular than he used to be. His arms, chest and legs were big. He had a v-shape body that certainly didn't come from eating fast food and being lazy every day. David couldn't recall every walking into a gym. As a dedicated father of three children between the age of 3 and 7 and a caring husband to a woman he knew since high school he had better things to do. Moreover, he wasn't really interested in working out or changing his diet. He had never been unhappy with the way he looked.

David looked around. He was inside an apartment he didn't know. The bedroom was equipped with a sling and numerous sex toys including dildos a different sizes. There were drawings on the walls showing men sucking, fucking and fisting each other. Never in a lifetime David would step into a place like that. Yet everything felt familiar.

A gas mask was lying on the sling. When David looked at it he had the strong urge to put it on. Unable to resist he took off his cap and reached for the gas mask. Once it covered his face David's memories of the last two years returned.

On the fateful night his life changed he was attending a friend's birthday party in a city he had never been before. Among the party guests was a man named Walter, a successful lawyer and businessman who was just accompanying an acquaintance to the party and was a relative stranger to everyone, even to the host. Despite not knowing each other the two of them quickly bonded so much that David accepted Walter's invitation to a sightseeing tour.

At the time they left the birthday party David was drunk and had no idea of the events that would occur. A couple of hours later he was at Walter's place, tied on a chair, wearing a full body rubber suit and a hood that covered his entire head.

Over the next few months Walter was brainwashing David, transforming him into a gay rubber slave. He enjoyed taking it slowly, reprogramming David little by little while allowing him to keep his memories of his old life as a father and husband.

David had made numerous attempts to fight Walter. But on the fourth month of his captivity his preferences started to change. His body was craving for Walter's cock and soon his fists.

Two years had passed since Walter lured him into his dungeon. David had completely accepted his role as a gay rubber slave, having served not only Walter but also numerous other men who borrowed him for a night or two of their own pleasure.

Although he remembered his past life he felt no desire to return to it. He was also fully aware of what Walter had done to him and that the changes were irreversible. But instead of being angry at him David was grateful that Walter had chosen him to become his submissive partner.

He had learned to love him so much that he had forgiven him.

[polo-drone-070]

Losin meself in da footie drill - Final Session – No More Maximus, Only Gold

Links : Session 1 Session 2 Session 3

I fukin’ know what’s comin’.

The last few sessions built up to this. The way me brain’s been slippin’, the way the orders been stickin’, even after the visor lifts. How I wake up at night, me body still twitchin’ with drill commands, me mind loopin’ plays like I’m still on the pitch.

I ain’t dumb. I know what’s happenin’.

But it don’t fukin’ matter.

‘Coz deep down, I know this is what I need. What I was fukin’ made for.

It’s pre-game trainin’ now. The real deal. After this, we hit the pitch, we fukin’ crush the Emerald Titans. But right now? Right now, I gotta disappear. Gotta fukin’ erase what’s left.

Me heart’s poundin’ like mad, adrenaline surgin’ through me veins. A part of me—tiny, weak, barely hangin’ on—feels this flicker of fear, of hesitation. Like, this is it, bruv. Last chance to fight it. Last chance to be you.

But I ain’t fightin’.

I ain’t runnin’.

I’m kneelin’.

I’m waitin’.

And when they bring the helmet over, I’m fukin’ shakin’ with anticipation.

The Moment of No Return

The second I see the visor, I fukin’ need it. Like air, like water, like everythin’ I ever wanted but never knew. Me breath’s all shallow, me hands twitchin’, me whole body buzzin’.

Fuk, bruv. I want this. I fukin’ ache for it.

And when they lower it onto me skull—

I. Am. Gone.

The instant the visor locks in place, everythin’ vanishes.

A deep, all-consumin’ warmth floods through me, wrappin’ me in pure fukin’ obedience. Me mind don’t just blank—it shatters, dissolvin’ into nothin’, breakin’ apart like it never fukin’ existed in the first place.

"Recover. Regroup. Target. Tackle."

The words consume me. They ain’t just commands anymore. They ain’t instructions I hear.

They’re me.

I don’t fukin’ think—I respond. I don’t hesitate—I move. The orders don’t come from outside anymore. They come from within.

‘Coz there ain’t no difference no more.

I ain’t Maximus. I ain’t a player. I ain’t even a person.

I am Gold’s machine.

And fuk, bruv—it’s perfect.

Erased. Rewritten. Born Again as Pure Gold.

Me body’s a fukin’ weapon—a force built for the pitch, trained to dominate, shaped to win. Every movement’s flawless, every sprint precise, every tackle unstoppable.

There’s no wasted thought, no hesitation, no questions. Just orders. Reflex. Action.

Every second feels like an eternity of bliss. Me whole existence is reduced to movement, to execution, to service.

And it’s right.

I was never meant to be me. I was meant to be this—a tool, a pawn, a machine for the team. For Gold.

And now I fukin’ am.

"Recover. Regroup. Target. Tackle."

I feel the words sink deeper than ever before. Not just into me mind. Into me core.

This ain’t temporary. Ain’t trainin’.

This is permanent.

I ain’t gonna snap outta it. I ain’t gonna shake this off. I ain’t gonna come back.

There is no more Maximus.

Just the team. Just the commands. Just Gold.

Final Integration – Controlled forever

The session goes on for hours. Every second pullin’ me deeper, rewritin’ me completely. Erasin’ everythin’ that don’t serve the team.

I don’t even remember what I used to be. Don’t even fukin’ care.

Why would I?

This is better. This is right.

I don’t think. I don’t choose. I don’t exist.

I comply.

And when the session finally ends—when the visor lifts, when the light floods back in—

I. Do. Not. Leave. The. State.

I’m still in it.

Ain’t no fukin’ transition, no moment of snappin’ back to reality. ‘Coz this is reality now.

The lads slap me back, rubs me sweaty scalp, joke about how locked in I was—how I barely even blinked the whole session.

But I barely fukin’ hear ‘em.

‘Coz the commands are still there, loopin’ in me skull, directin’ me every move.

And I fukin’ love it.

They tell me to hit the showers, so I do. They tell me to gear up, so I do. They tell me to get ready to win for Gold, and I obey without a fukin’ thought.

Maximus doesn't exists anymore.

I am only this now.

Only a player. Only a pawn. Only a drone for the game.

No more past. No more future. No more choices.

Just Gold.

Forever.

_______________ To join the Gold Team, contact @goldenherc9, @brodygold or @polo-drone-001.

[polo-drone-070]

The Golden Spiral - Part 2

(A story by @midasslave1 done in collab with @polo-drone-070)

4. The Call

One fateful day, PDU-070 was seated in a meeting room of the Polo-Drone-Hive, reporting the training updates decided in the latest management meeting. Its role as Head Office Assistant placed it as a key witness for Gold Army strategy and planning. Surrounded by its fellow Polo-Drones, it felt the familiar satisfaction of contributing to the team’s unity and success. The hum of productive conversation filled the room when its phone buzzed softly.

It hesitated before answering. A familiar yet unsettling voice whispered through the line: “GOOD BOYS OBEY MIDAS.”

The words struck like a lightning bolt. Its sharp focus dulled, and glowing golden spirals rippled in its eyes, drool trickling down his chin like molten metal. The sense of purpose it had always drawn from serving the Gold Army twisted into a compulsion to serve Midas instead. PDU-070 rose  its body moving on autopilot. No one in the room noticed its subtle shift as it excused itself and left. 

Thousands of miles away, Jett sat in his bedroom, his Golden Army Zoom call filling the screen. Laughter and camaraderie flowed as his Gold Bros shared updates on their projects. But just as Jett began to share an idea, his phone rang. The number was unlisted, but he did not think much of it. The same phrase echoed in his ear. “GOOD BOYS OBEY MIDAS.”

His body stiffened, the same golden spirals consuming his gaze as gold drool poured from his mouth. His Gold Bros called his name, but Jett barely registered the sound. Slowly, he disconnected the call, his movements no longer his own.

The triggers implanted during their captivity had been activated. PDU-070 and Jett were no longer free; they were puppets of Midas Enterprises.

5. The Mission

Under Midas Enterprises’ control, PDU-070 and Jett began their missions. PDU-070, deeply integrated into the Gold Army’s management as an assistant, quietly gathered sensitive information. Membership lists, team schedules, and recruitment data were extracted with precision and sent to Midas. Its fellow Polo-Drones noticed no change, mistaking its heightened focus as dedication.

Jett operated in a different sphere, closer to the non-converted players. His friendly reputation allowed him to access informal gatherings and hear unguarded discussions. Slowly, he began piecing together details about upcoming strategies and players who were considering joining the Polo-Drone Hive. These details were also fed back to Midas.

Despite their obedience, moments of clarity flickered. PDU-070, reviewing files in the Polo-Drone Hive, felt an unexpected surge of pride in the Hive’s unity. For a fleeting moment, it remembered why it had embraced the rubber polo and the Golden Army’s values. The thought was quickly smothered by the golden spirals.

Sitting at his desk, moments after sending the classified documents Midas had demanded, Jett felt his mind waging war against itself. The loyalty, the rush of camaraderie he felt with his Golden brothers—it was priceless. Every conversation, every shared moment reinforced the bond he had once cherished. But the programming from Midas smothered that warmth as quickly as it surfaced, dragging him back into the obedient fog of servitude.

For both, the conflict was subtle but relentless. The Golden Army’s values—supporting your team, trusting your brothers—were deeply ingrained. Each lie, every hidden action, chipped away at the golden fog clouding their minds. They felt something was wrong, but the golden haze was relentless. Their mission for Midas Enterprises continued, though cracks in their obedience were beginning to form.

6. The Awakening

PDU-070 sat in the Hive’s office, reviewing files it had compiled for Midas. The task felt efficient, orderly—things a Polo-Drone should value—but a nagging thought surfaced: What would my fellow drones say if they knew? The idea was unbearable. Unity and openness were the Hive’s core values, and PDU-070 had always believed that the team was strongest when every drone supported each other. The thought sparked a flicker of resistance.

In his own home, Jett was scrolling through a group chat with his Gold Bros. Photos of a recent match brought a lump to his throat. He had been part of the team that day, cheering on his friends, but now he felt like an outsider. The guilt gnawed at him—he was betraying the trust of the very people who had welcomed him so fully.

The breakthrough came as PDU-070 prepared to transmit critical information to Midas Enterprises through encrypted channels. Reviewing the data, a deep unease bubbled to the surface. As its fingers pressed the enter key, a sharp pang of guilt struck. The golden spirals in its eyes flickered, struggling against the memory of the Hive’s mantra: Commit to team. One Mind. Hive mind. The screen blinked back: Good work, boy. Proceed to Midas HQ for processing level 2. But PDU-070 kept repeating the mantra, fighting to hold onto its true programming.

Jett experienced a similar moment of clarity during a quiet evening. While reviewing member logs, he found a photo of his Gold Bros celebrating after a big victory. The sight triggered a wave of nostalgia and a fierce longing for the camaraderie he once felt. Tears welled in his eyes, golden spirals shimmering faintly before fading.

With tremendous effort, they both broke free from the golden haze. Memories rushed back, and the sinister grip of Midas Enterprises began to crumble. Though shaken and disoriented, they realized the full extent of what had been done to them. Their identities were still intact, but the fight was far from over.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

To join the Gold Army, contact one of our recruiters @brodygold, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001.

[aguyshypnowsprs-deactivated2026]

Remembering that the real world does exist and you have obligations, what do you hope to accomplish by becoming a drone?

Complete obedience to my programmer, no matter what.

Performing actions/tasks based on pre-programmed conditioning.

To look and feel great in rubber gear and a mask.

Give up my uniqueness, my personality.

No shame, no regrets, no matter where or how triggers are activated.

To sit mindlessly losing myself to spirals with no time limit.

I don’t care about work, or socialising, let me forget I’m human.

I want to be used for the pleasure of others.

My pay check isn’t off the table if I’m programmed to pay to obey.

Program me to do things I am scared to do normally.

Voting ended onJan 15, 2025

[polo-drone-070]

The Golden Spiral - Part 1

(A story by @midasslave1 done in collab with @polo-drone-070)

1. The Abduction

In the heart of Paris, the vibrant nightlife pulsed with energy. PDU-070 a young asian polo-drone, was observing the crowd in a nightclub, scanning for potential recruits, in the signature tight black rubber Fred Perry polos of Polo-Drones. PDU-070 felt a sense of belonging and pride as he focused on its mission, the atmosphere electric with excitement. It had managed to lure some interesting recruits that will soon be unable to resist the pull of the rubber polo.

Meanwhile, across the world in New Zealand, 35-year-old Jett, known as Waterboy 05 of the Golden Army, was preparing for a night out on the town. Clad in his shiny Liverpool F.C. football top, he felt a rush of camaraderie from his new association with the amazing online community. The Golden Army was a close-knit group, and Jett cherished the bonds he had formed.

But as the night wore on, a sinister plot was unfolding. In Paris, as PDU-070 stepped out of the nightclub, he noticed a dark van idling at the curb, its windows tinted and unmarked. A chill ran down his spine, but he brushed it off, attributing it to the late hour. Just as he turned to head home, two figures wearing full body metallic gold latex suits emerged from the shadows, their movements swift and calculated. Before he could react, they grabbed him, covering his mouth with a cloth soaked in chloroform. Once subdued but not unconscious he was fitted with a VR headset with MIDAS written on the front over his eyes. The world around him faded into darkness as he struggled against their grip and placed into the van.

Simultaneously, in New Zealand, Jett just getting home, stepped out of his car in his driveway when he heard a loud crash on the roadside. Curious, he left the safety of his premises only to be met by a dark van. The gold latex figures lunged at him, overpowering him before he could call for help. A cloth was pressed against his face, and he too succumbed to the sweet, suffocating scent of chloroform, when he was placed in the back of the van and was also fitted with a VR headset over his eyes.

2. The Glass Room

When PDU-070 and Jett awoke ,they found themselves in a stark, sterile glass room, disoriented and confused.

The walls shimmered with an unsettling golden hue, and they quickly realized they were locked with someone they didn't recognise to golden chairs by metal cuffs and leather harnesses. And now wearing a thick metallic gold collar around their throats.

Panic surged through them as they struggled against their restraints, but the more they fought, the more they felt the cold grip of fear tightening around them.

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the room, smooth and commanding. “Welcome, gentlemen. You are now part of Midas Enterprises. We have plans for you.” The voice belonged to a figure shrouded in shadows, their intentions cloaked in mystery.

New golden VR headset were placed over their eyes and the screens came to life, golden spirals began to swirl before their eyes, mesmerizing them.

The spirals pulsed with an otherworldly energy, drawing them deeper into a trance. They inhaled and exhaled a strange golden smoke that filled the room, its effects creeping into their minds like a fog. 

The kidnappers explained their sinister plan to them for no particular reason but to gloat. They intend to infiltrate the Polo-Drones and the Golden Army, claiming their many members around the world to build a world-dominating force.

3. The Transformation

Days passed in a blur as PDU-070 and Jett were subjected to relentless brainwashing. They were fed misinformation about the Golden Army they both belonged to, though in different group, their loyalties twisted into obedience to Midas Enterprises. Hidden triggers were embedded deep within their minds, waiting for the right moment to activate. The golden smoke clouded their thoughts and coated the inside of their body and they began to lose sight of their true selves.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they were released back into their respective countries, their memories hazy and fragmented. They returned to their lives, unaware of the dark programming that had taken root within them.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

To join the Gold Army, contact one of our recruiters @brodygold, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001.

[masterducato-deactivated2018121]

Man to Slave, 3 Steps

I have outlined here how I would transform a man into a slave.

Step 1: Acceptance of responsibilities.

Both parties reach an agreement about the relationship they will engage in. Both parties reserve the right to disengage from the relationship at any time, unless different terms are agreed to at the outset.

Step 2: Transformation: man to submissive.

Simple rules will gradually be established. The sub will be punished for non-compliance. These rules may represent tasks that the sub must complete on a regular basis. The sub will be trained to exhibit obedience and compliance at all times.

When the sub enters the Dom’s dwelling or is in his presence, he must willingly enter a submissive head-space. During this time, he will be trained to regard the Dom’s desires as superior to his own. The sub will be trained to respond to “boy,” or a different name chosen by the Dom. The sub will address the Dom as “Sir” and his conduct toward the Dom shall be respectful and deferential at all times.

Sub is broken down methodically to obey the Dom’s every wish. This will continue indefinitely until the sub is ready to forfeit his personhood. The sub will be trained to anticipate Dom’s needs and fulfill them without requiring oversight.

Sub is conditioned to sculpt his body according to the Dom’s wishes. The sub must willingly incorporate the Dom’s feedback into his exercise regime.

Sub is systematically deprived of his possessions. He will be trained to give his full attention to the Dom unless otherwise instructed. Problematic possessions such as consumer electronics should be confiscated first. The sub should have limited access to the internet when serving the Dom.

Sub will be fully nude when serving the Dom unless otherwise instructed.

Sub is deprived of his ability to achieve sexual gratification. The Master should enforce the sub’s chastity in isolated episodes. These episodes should push the sub to endure chastity for ever-increasing durations. This exercise must be repeated until the sub accepts chastity as a lifestyle, The sub must accept that his genitals belong to the Dom.

Sub is acclimated to extended bondage and sensory deprivation. The sub will receive cage training as part of this. The sub will become accustomed to residing at the Master’s domicile for extended durations.

Sub will be trained to willingly accept punishments from the Master, regardless of their severity, method, or justification.

Sub will be trained to be responsive to the Dom at all times. The sub should never disregard any communication from the Dom.

Sub’s contact with the outside world will grow more limited over time. The Dom may use extreme limitations on outside contact as punishment.

Sub will receive physical and psychological conditioning from the Master to break him of any unwanted habits from his previous life.

Sub will become conditioned to endure degradation and humiliation. This will continue indefinitely until the sub is prepared to surrender his ego fully.

Step 3: Transformation: submissive to slave.

The submissive will not be ready to become a slave until the Dom decides that he has adequately satisfied his duties as a submissive. The submissive must be fully broken and prepared to serve the Dom for the rest of his life as a slave. At such time, the Dom and sub will disengage from their existing relationship. They will meet to negotiate the terms of a slave contract that they will renew annually. Upon both parties signing this contract, the sub will surrender himself to the Dom in every way. He will no longer be a “sub,” or “boy.” The slave will forfeit his personhood and become the property of his new Master. Both parties will conduct themselves according to the terms of the slave contract. The slave may only terminate his service to his Master in limited circumstances pursuant to the slave contract.

[slave3505-deactivated20241230]

So well written!

[bouzudorei]

Greetings from your nice city 😊

Thx, bro ! Glad you're enjoying it (adopted bro speech as seems more appropriate for casual interaction. You still also a Gold bro, init? if inappropriate, will revert to SERVE-678)

[axeeglitter]

Sensius: A story of manliness

Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest, the fear coursing through him like ice in his veins. He had been separated from his twin Josh and his friends Nathan and Brad, only moments ago, and he had no idea where he was being led. The room he now stood in was stark, metallic, and unforgiving, a far cry from the comforting familiarity of their shared lives. The heavy door sealed shut behind him with a final, echoing thud, trapping him in this sterile, alien space. Ethan didn’t even want to be here, he only agreed because Josh forced him to come and Nathan and Brad insisted for him to join. He didn’t really enjoy video games, VR, or any surprises.

“Hello? What is this place?” Ethan’s voice cracked with a mixture of fear and frustration. He scanned the room, eyes darting over the sleek, unfamiliar machinery. In the center stood a pod—its dark, glossy surface gleaming under the harsh, clinical lights. It looked like a high-tech coffin, humming with a low, ominous vibration.

Before he could make another move, a voice filled the room. An engineer entered the room, wearing a white blouse and a big smile on his face. “Ethan, right?” he asked with joy in his voice as he approached him. “Great, well I’m Christian, I’ll make sure your test is going as planned. Now if you can climb into the pod on your left, your trial will begin real soon.” Ethan didn’t know if he could trust this men, but not wanting to back off in front of his friends, he started to walk to the pod with a shy path.

Ethan climbed into the pod and tilted his head to look how the machine looked like from the inside. It was slick and futuristic, and under his back was a soft mattress made of light blue silicone.

The interior was disturbingly soft, molding perfectly to the contours of his body and as Ethan relaxed a bit and lay back, the lid descended with a sharp hiss, sealing him in complete darkness. The sound of his own breath filled the small space, fast and shallow as he tried to calm himself.

Then, out of nowhere, restraints clamped down, metal arms snapping into place around his wrists and ankles, pinning him with unyielding force. Ethan gasped in surprise as his stress and anxiety raised back up.

“Let me out!” Ethan screamed, thrashing against the restraints. But the claws only tightened, digging painfully into his skin.

“Restraint sequence activated. Beginning clothing removal.”

A thin red laser beam appeared above him, scanning the length of his body. The beam left a tingling sensation in its wake, and then his clothes began to disintegrate into fine ash, leaving him completely naked and exposed. The cold air hit his bare skin, and he shivered, vulnerable and terrified. “Stop it please! I don’t even want to be here! Help me!” Ethan tied again as he took in the fact that he was now restrained and exposed.

“Clothing removed. Initiating physical modification protocol.”

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat, his body tensing with fear. “No, please! I don’t want this! What is happening? Who is even talking?! STOP”

“Beginning foot structure modification.”

A deep, bone-crunching pain lanced through Ethan’s feet. He screamed, his toes curling involuntarily as the bones inside them cracked and shifted. It felt like someone was snapping each bone in half, then forcing it into a new shape. His feet elongated, the arches lifting painfully as the structure of his bones realigned. He could feel the skin tightening over the new form, every nerve alight with agony.

“Foot sized increased. Adding athletic template.”

His soles burned as thin calluses formed, rough patches developing as though he’d spent years running around. It was as if his skin was being sandpapered from the inside out, layers building up to create a tough, hardened surface to preserve his feet.

Ethan’s breath came in ragged gasps, the pain relentless. He tried to kick out, but the restraints held him firm.

“Starting leg restructuring. Thigh and calf enhancement.”

The agony spread up his legs, a deep, tearing sensation as his muscles began to swell. His calves bulged, the sinews stretching and thickening beneath the skin. It felt like his muscles were being inflated, the pressure building until he thought they might burst. His thighs followed, ballooning outward as the tendons and ligaments pulled taut, adjusting to support his new, powerful form.

His pelvis snapped painfully, bones grinding together as his hips narrowed. He let out a strangled cry, the sound muffled by the pod’s interior.

“Pelvic adjustment complete. Now modifying genitalia and pubic region.”

Ethan’s eyes widened in terror. “No, no, no!” he pleaded, but the AI continued without pause.

A deep, throbbing pressure built between his legs, unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was as if something was pulling at his very core, stretching and reshaping the most intimate parts of his body. His penis contracted and spasmed without him being able to control his muscle. It felt like someone was tugging on his dick and it was about to snap. He felt it lengthened, the skin tightening painfully as it grew thicker and heavier. Every nerve seemed to explode with hypersensitivity, a wave of raw, searing sensation that made him gasp.

His balls felt like they were being tugged downward, the weight increasing as his they swelled, doubling and then tripling in size. The skin grew coarser, darker, as thick, curly hair sprouted across his pubic region. The sensation was unbearable, like a thousand needles pricking his skin at once. He felt them grew more and more but to his shock, he saw them getting short, like if he had shaved a week or so ago. His new pubes were feeling sensitive and were about 1 inch long but very dense, starting to shape waves dancing around his new thick dick.

Ethan could feel the rough hair brushing against his thighs, the unfamiliar weight of his transformed anatomy pressing against his skin. His entire groin ached, a deep, pulsing throb that radiated through his pelvis.

“Please… make it stop,” he whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks. But the AI continued its cold, mechanical announcements.

“Genitalia modification process completed. Moving up to abdominal and chest expansion in 3,2,1…”

The muscles in his stomach clenched, then seemed to explode outward, stretching the skin painfully tight. He felt his abs forming, each individual muscle carving itself out into a sharp, defined shape. His chest followed, his pecs swelling outward, becoming thick and heavy. It felt like his ribs were being pried apart, the bones bending to accommodate his new size.

He tried to scream, but his voice was caught in his throat, the pain overwhelming every other sensation.

“Shoulder width increasing. Arm muscle enhancement in progress…” His shoulders cracked loudly, broadening as the bones shifted. The muscles in his arms ballooned, biceps and triceps thickening until they felt like they might burst through his skin. His forearms followed, the sinewy muscles bulging as veins snaked across the surface. His fingers elongated, the knuckles thickening, nails reshaping into black claws before retracting into a neat, masculine trim. His hands felt foreign, strong, capable, and unfamiliar.

“Neck and facial structure realignment. Initiation Voice modulation in 3,2,1…”

Ethan’s neck thickened, the muscles bulging against the restraints. His throat vibrated as his vocal cords stretched, his Adam’s apple becoming more pronounced. He could feel his face being pulled apart and reshaped, every bone shifting painfully beneath the skin. His jawline squared off and off settled a bit, his cheekbones sharpening, and his nose adjusted, becoming broader and more defined. Ethan’s eyes started to go bling as a new invasive sensation started in his iris. It felt like his eyes were burning from the inside and he couldn’t see anything anymore. But the second after, when he finally opened his eyes again, vision came back. It was perfect now, like a high-definition camera. Ethan saw a golden hue in his vision before he turned back to a normal natural one. Unbeknown to him, his eyes just went from golden orange back to a rich chocolaty brown.

His lips tingled as they grew fuller, curving into a confident and natural friendly smirk he wasn’t used to. He could feel his hair thickening, dark strands cascading down to form a tousled, messy styled look.

When he tried to speak, a deep, rich voice came out, one that wasn’t his own.

“Body hair enhancement and musk modification.”

A prickle spread across his chest and stomach as thin transparent hair sprouted, covering his new, muscular frame. The scent of his own body changed, becoming earthy and masculine, a raw, potent musk that filled the pod, overwhelming his senses. His pubes vibrated as they started to emit the same potent musk merged with a ball sweat odor. Then when he thought everything was done, his pits started to burn as thick dark and curly hair started to grow under them, far away from his natural almost hairless pits he used to have. “Please, make it stop… I can’t hold on anymore. I want… to go … home.” Ethan said in his new manly and rich voice as tears of pain and fear started to pearl in his new rich brown eyes. The AI didn’t care what he was saying and begging for as a new burning started on his legs where they started to grow dark hair all around and them climbing between his new muscled ass cheeks to recover in a dense forest of thick hair.

He could feel sweat dripping down his ribs from his pits, his heart racing as the final adjustments were made.

“Final height increase. Completing modification and assignation.”

His spine stretched, each vertebra popping as he grew taller. His entire body felt like it was being pulled apart, every joint cracking into place as the last pieces of his transformation locked in.

Ethan lay there, panting, tears streaming down his face. His naked body was no longer his own, it was something new, something powerful and alien.

“Conversion complete. You are ready for the next step. Digitization will start in 3,2,1…”

Ethan tried to scream in his new louder and manlier voice but no one answered. He was trapped inside this monstrous new body, feeling every sensation, every shift of muscle and bone. He had become something unrecognizable, and the pain had only solidified the terror that now consumed him.

All Ethan could do was lay in the pod, his body transformed beyond recognition, his mind reeling from the agony he had just endured. He could barely breathe, his chest heaving as he tried to process the changes, the unfamiliar weight of new muscles, the roughness of his new skin, the potent musk that filled the air, unmistakably masculine and raw.

“Phase two initiated: Digitization process commencing. Please stay still.”

Ethan’s eyes snapped open; pupils dilated with fear. “What now? What are you doing to me?”

But the AI ignored his panicked questions. He felt a strange tingling sensation spread across his skin, starting at his toes and quickly moving upward. It was as if every cell in his body was being scanned, analyzed, and recorded in microscopic detail.

The pod began to hum, vibrations growing stronger beneath him, resonating through every bone and nerve. He could feel his entire body buzzing, the sensation almost unbearable.

“Subject’s physical data captures. Initiating digitization.”

A bright flash of light engulfed him, blinding him for a moment. He screamed as his body seemed to dissolve into pure energy, every atom pulled apart and then compressed into a tight, confined space. His consciousness was squeezed into a single point, a spark of awareness floating in a void of nothingness.

He felt himself being transferred, data streaming through what felt like endless tunnels of code and light. The sensation was nauseating, like being stretched and twisted beyond his limits. He could feel the AI rewriting him, his essence being stripped away and stored in a vast, cold digital space.

“Digitization complete. Subject now online.”

Suddenly, he was slammed back into reality, his new body reconstituted piece by piece. Ethan gasped, blinking rapidly as his vision adjusted to his surroundings. He no longer was in the pod, he was standing in a dimly lit, cluttered bedroom. The walls were covered in posters, the floor scattered with clothes, sneakers, and Lacrosse gear.

Ethan stood up in a hurry from the bed as he turned his head around, trying to understand where he was now. Panic raised inside him as his sight landed on a wet dirty mirror standing on the wall in the bathroom. Ethan approached it, his body drenched in sweat as his new hands raised to touch his new hair. Ethan gasped when he saw his new reflection. That couldn’t be possible he was...

“Uploading Subject: Ethan Brown… Assigned File: Scott McCall” the AI voice resonated inside the room. Ethan turned around and walked out of the bathroom and took a look once again at the bedroom around him, the jerseys, the posters, the pictures and posters on the wall, the lacrosse equipment all around, the messy bedroom, the bathroom on the left side of the bed. This couldn’t be possible. Ethan couldn’t believe it, it was a nightmare. And why was he stuck inside this new body as Scott, he wasn’t even a big fan of Teen Wolf. What was all of that?!

He could feel the soft carpet beneath his bare feet, the air cool against his exposed skin. He looked down, and a shock of confusion washed over him. He was only wearing a pair of tight, gray boxer briefs that clung to his body, highlighting every curve and bulge of his transformed physique. His thick, muscular thighs were covered in dark hair, his abs hard and defined, with a thin trail of hair leading down to his groin where the prominent bulge strained against the fabric.

“Calculating the need of this game… Done. This game miss Alpha. Initiating behavioral enhancement protocol. Upgrading “Scott McCall” to “ALPHA” in 3,2,1…”

Ethan felt his body freeze on the spot. He tried to move, to take control of his own body, but he couldn’t. He felt like a passenger, trapped inside his own mind. His body moved on its own, a confident grin spreading across his lips as he flexed his biceps, feeling the thick, solid muscle.

“No… no, this isn’t me,” Ethan thought, but no voice came out of his mouth,

“Upgrading dominance traits. Increasing testosterone levels.”

A wave of heat surged through him, starting deep in his core and spreading outward. He could feel his muscles swelling slightly, his skin tightening over the expanded mass. The scent of his own sweat filled the room, mingling with the strong, musky odor that seemed to ooze from his pores, it was becoming more and more potent, filled with testosterone. His pecs and abs spasmed as his thin hair started to get a darker hue, getting more and more visible and emitting an earthy scent too.

His groin felt hot and heavy, his bulge growing larger, pressing insistently against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He couldn’t stop it, his cock twitched, hardening involuntarily, the outline of his erection visible through the thin material. A small wet spot formed at the tip, where pre-cum leaked through the fabric.

Ethan’s mind raced. He wanted to cover himself, to find clothes, but his body refused to obey. Instead, he stretched his arms over his head, his biceps bulging, and let out a low, satisfied groan. His eyes flashed the golden hue before starting to change into a deep crimson red. His nails flashed and turned into sharp, dark claws before retracting back into his normal nails. Ethan felt his palms and soles starting to burn as callouses started to appear in them, making sure his feet are safe when he runs bare feet in the forest and every time, he grabs his lacrosse stick to play on the field. His left biceps started to burn as two black thick lines appeared on it to mark him as the new enhanced version.

“Enhancement complete. Initiating behavioral sequence.”

Ethan felt his head tilt slightly, a cocky smirk forming on his lips. A wave of unfamiliar pride washed over him. He looked powerful, every inch of him screamed dominance, from the confident set of his jaw to the way his broad shoulders filled the space. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, admiring the way it fell perfectly into place.

Ethan’s mind screamed in protest. This wasn’t him. He was trapped inside this body, watching helplessly as it moved on its own, flexing and posing like it was enjoying its own reflection.

“Dominant behavior activated. Loading clothes and restrictions.”

Ethan’s eyes widened in horror. His body turned toward the pile of clothes on the floor, a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie. He reached down, fingers brushing the fabric, but then he stopped. Ethan felt his hands grab his soaked underwear between his hands before tearing it apart, leaving him naked in his room. Then he grabbed a pair of dirty jeans on the floor and smiled as he raised his torn apart soaked underwear to his nose and smelt it. Ethan felt his face light with a smile as pheromones invaded his brain, the scent of an alpha he thought. He then threw the underwear in the corner of his room and jumped in the pair of jeans commando, making sure to adjust his sensitive leaking cock in the right leg. His bulge throbbed against his hairy leg, a bead of pre-cum leaking through the fabric and staining it darker. He couldn’t stop it; the pleasure radiated through his groin, making his breath hitch.

“Stop… please, this is not … me,” Ethan begged, but his voice was not to be heard. He couldn’t control the grin that spread across his lips, the way his hand ran down his chest, fingers brushing over his hardened nipples, then lower, tracing the line of hair that led to his waistband.

He flexed again, the thick muscles of his torso shifting under the skin. He looked like a god, unapologetically masculine, raw, and primal. Ethan wanted to cry but he couldn’t, he was frozen and forced to look at himself as he felt his new leaking dick coming closer and closer to orgasm.

“Welcome to the Sensius: Teen Wolf Gay Fantasy experience,” the AI announced, its tone disturbingly cheerful. “You are now an integral part of the interactive environment. Follow your programming and enjoy this experience.".”

Ethan felt his body tense as the orgasm was coming closer and closer, his dick spasming and restrained inside his pants, rubbing his sensitive leaking cock head against his hairy leg. The AI talked once again, this time echoing through the whole game like if it was a scream in an empty cave. “Player loaded. Rebooting behaviors in 3,2,1…” His head snapped up, eyes gleaming with a new, fierce confidence. He felt his heart rate slow, the fear draining away, replaced by a wave of calm, dominant energy. He didn’t feel like hiding anymore. He felt powerful, unstoppable. He came. Ethan felt the cum rushing out of his cock and soaking his jeans into wetness. “Scott McCall’s routines starting.” He heard his new voice talking inside his head and he realized he was trapped as Scott from now on until he found a way to free himself.

Ethan was trapped, screaming inside his own mind, but Scott’s body wasn’t listening. It adjusted itself, standing tall and relaxed, hands resting on the thick bulge in his jeans. He gave it a squeeze, the sensation shooting through him like a jolt of electricity. He then grabbed his lacrosse stick and helmet and threw them on his bed before sitting on it. He looked at them with awe in his eyes as he felt the pulsion to play and to fuck in the locker room. Yea, his beta bitch will take it tonight, that’s for sure!

He turned toward the door, taking a deep breath, savoring the scent of his own musk filling the room. He knew he had to leave, there was somewhere he needed to be. He could feel the pull of the programming, guiding his steps.

He grabbed a pair of boots and a tight well used black tanktop then walked confidently out of the bedroom and into the hallway. He didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. He was ready for whatever came next, his mind sharp, his body humming with newfound strength.

And inside, Ethan’s thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear and confusion, unable to break through the iron grip of Scott’s assertive, dominant programming. He was trapped in a body that wasn’t his, forced to feel every touch, every pulse of pleasure, as the new Scott took his first steps into the world.

And he wasn’t going to wear a single piece of clothing to hide what he had become.

______________________________________________________________ Hey everybody! Here is the second chapter about the Sensius project. Hope you guys enjoy it and I'll see you guys real soon for the next chapter! As always, feel free to send me messages if you want to talk about it or to talk about ideas. I love to read your messages and itneract with you all. See you soon and take care of yourself! Part 1

[hypnozys]

The Internship

Mark was excited when he was told that he had been accepted for an administrative intership at DroneTech but was worried when he saw that there were six other people applying for the same position.He was told that over the course of the day they would be gradually eliminated until only one remained.

Their first task was to put on the company uniform and report back to the main office.

He entered the changing room and saw the rubber suit hanging on the wall. He knew that he would eventually end up in one having done his research on the company. Nothing prepared him for the sensations putting it on would assault him with. His cock was rock hard before he even got it half way on. Eventually his drive to succeed overpowered the pleasure and he zipped himself up inside the tight suit. Each step back to the main room caused the rubber to grip and caress his entire body pleasurably. To his surprise, four of the applicants were already waiting there, meaning he was only one person away from getting eliminated right out of the gate.

The next challenge was to simply complete a handful of computer training modules. As he sat down at the screen and began his work, he noticed how the monitor would flicker at times and the headphones he was wearing had a strange static crackling in them. The training started off basic enough but again he found that his throbbing erection was distracting him more and more. He casually started rubbing his cock through the rubber with one hand while clicking through the various modules. After a short while his screen flashed complete and displayed a number 2. He sighed with relief now that he wasn't in dead last this time.

He was never reunited with the other applicants but was told that last challenge was a simple one. He simply had to work as a low level employee for the remained of the day and they would be graded on their performance. Mark reasoned it was to better understand how they operated and give some perspective when making decisions higher up.

The first thing he would need to do is complete the uniform and was given a heavy black shiny helmet. Eager to show his dedication he quickly put it over his head. As soon as it was on his head he heard a click and felt something press into his ears. A loud warbling sound echoed through his head as the inside of the helmet lit up with a kaleidoscope of colors.

Mark quickly tried to pull the helmet off but it was firmly affixed to his head. The sound and colors quickly drowned out his mind and he stood there as he was bombarded with programming. His posture relaxed as his hands reached down and started rubbing his cock through the rubber.

Time lost its meaning to the man as he was slowly pleasuring himself into a state of mindless obedience. A couple hours later and Drone MK-7384 exited the training room and began its first day as a proper drone.

Unbeknownst to Mark, the entire elimination process was nothing but a sham. The real intern had already been selected and rather than have the other applicant's talents potentially go to a competitor, DroneTech decided to provide them a much more permanent employment opportunity.

(I do not own any of the images used here, if you do any want them removed, do not hesitate to let me know and I will gladly take them down)