Sans titre

[latex420]

[hypnorubberslave]

Yessss. Hood me. Enslave me. Control me.

[bartje1985]

[mindlessguys]

[yessleep]

It was supposed to be a photo shoot for a sports magazine, but something was clearly wrong when they were told to strip.  

They looked at each other, and turned to walk out.  That was when they were grabbed, two men appeared on each side of them, and held them in place.  They tried fighting back, but their assailants had done this before, and knew exactly how to keep them restrained.  They weren’t going anywhere.  The grips got harder, their arms being pulled apart so they were held tightly in place.  

Then the man who had told them to strip approached with a visor in his hand.  

He approached the first one, smiled knowingly, and placed it around the young mans head.  The change was immediate.  HE stopped struggling, and simply slumped, his head falling.  His chin falling, touching his chest, and each muscle and thought process letting go.  

Yes Sir, brainwashing has begun

And then he fell silent.  

His friend was forced to watch as the men let his friend go, and horrified as he saw that he wasn’t running away.  

His friend stood still as his cloths were removed, and he was left naked with only the brainwashing visor on his head.  

Brainwashing continuing, he said

Then the gloves and kneepads were put on him, and a new pair of underwear for him to cum in.  

Each piece containing a little bit of circuitry to assist in the brainwashing, to make it go faster.

And he was forced to watch as his friend became aroused, leaking precum, unable to put into words what was happening to his friend.  

Each time his friend opened his mouth, his dread grew.  

I am being made to obey.  

I must obey 

I will obey.  

I must not resist the brainwashing

Brainwashing close to completion.  

Watching his friend gently tapping his hard cock with his oversized gloves, he finally closed his eyes.  

It didn’t help though, one man came over, pulled open his pants, and attached a small disc to his cock.  

It sprang to life, tingling, shocking him a little, making him hard.

He was nolonger able to keep his eyes closed, and he was forced to watch his friend as he grew incredibly aroused and hard.  

Please no, he cried, but his mind and cock were on two separate wave lengths.  

His friend did not have this problem, mind and cock were fused together, and his brainwashing was almost done.  And he continued to drone on.

Brainwashing is almost complete

Cum marks completion, and ensures i obey without resitance

Becoming a drone, becoming a drone, becoming a drone

I have been completely brainwashed, and will obey.

Then the boy cum’d through his underwear as his brainwashing concluded.  

So did the boy who was forced to watch.  He cum’d so hard his body convulsed, leaving him weak and winded, only staying on his feet cause he was held in place.  

His brainwashed friend stood up straight, completely obedient and mindless.  

Forced to watch again, as his former friend walked over to his Master, took the visor from his hands, and walked towards him.  

He shuddered out of fear, knowing this was the end.  His former friend blank and emotionless as he walked over, lifting the visor, and putting it on his head.  

As his vision went dark, he heard himself say,

Brainwashing has begun

[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.”

[chavdrone]

Ryan was at home on his own but was playing Call Of Duty online with Luke and Darren, a couple of other lads who lived on the same estate. Suddenly the game cut out and the screen turned to static. “What the fuck is this shit?” came one of his mates’ voices through the headphones. “Fuckin’ glitchy shit innit!” he heard his other mate reply. So it wasn’t just him with a screen full of static then.

Suddenly the static disappeared and a series of spirals appeared on his screen. “You seeing this spiral stuff too?” he asked. “Yeah fuckin’ weird bro! Never seen this before. How ‘bout you Daz?” replied Luke. “Nah bruv. I ain’t seen no spirals on here before and …….” Darren’s voice was cut off as a slow rhythmic electronic pulse began to play through the headphones.

Ryan didn’t know what was happening, but like a slow motion car crash, he couldn’t stop watching the spirals on the screen. He hadn’t noticed a synthetic voice had been overlaid on the electronic noise and images were now being superimposed over the spirals. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop watching the spirals and the images of other chav lads like him.

He also didn’t know that his two mates were also fixated on the spirals and the voices that had started a subconscious conditioning process. All three of them now only knew that they were horny as fuck and had to obey. As instructed, Ryan took off the headphones and watched the spirals. He watched the words that flashed up without even knowing that he had seen them.

Without knowing or caring why he was obediently following the instructions, Ryan put on a puffa jacket and gloves to go with the trackies and sneakers he was already wearing. Still glued to the screen and the spirals, he put on the ski mask that keeps scallies safe from CCTV cameras. He went downstairs and opened the front door.

Waiting at the front door were two lads dressed like him, but both with black gasmasks, filters attached. They didn’t need to say anything. Ryan felt his cock throbbing in his trackies and knew he had to go with them. He wanted to be the same as them and silently walked between them to the end of the street where they turned into the alleyway.

As they rounded the corner Ryan saw four more figures dressed like him but also wearing gasmasks with filters. Ryan realised that the two nearest him were Luke and Darren. He walked up to them but couldn’t see anything behind the lenses. Luke handed him a gasmask which he willingly put on. It felt so good to be losing his human identity.

His two mates poured some liquid from small yellow bottles into filters and attached them to Ryan’s mask. He didn’t need to be told to take deep breaths of the fumes. The vapours filled his lungs and he felt them pulsing through his entire body. He was warm and fuzzy and he was rock hard and horny. His bros embraced him and they rubbed each other’s hard cocks through their trackies.

As they continued to breathe the intoxicating fumes the three of them started to lose all sense of their human existence. They continued to sniff the fumes as they walked, brainless and drooling, with their four new chav bros. No feelings except mindless obedient bliss, intense horniness, and an uncontrollable urge to spend more time in front of the spirals.

At some point the three of them passed out into a trance-like twilight. They were roused by a familiar pulsating electronic rhythm and a large screen on which spirals were rotating. They were wearing matching trackies, sneakers and gasmasks. Three filters sat on the floor in front of them and they attached them to the gasmasks without realising they were obeying a subliminal voice.

For the next few days the three of them were either asleep or watching the spirals and listening to the binaural programming. During this stage of the programming they were fitted with chastity cages, the strength of the fumes was continually increased and they were kept constantly aroused. Only when the voices instructed them to drain were they allowed to cum.

Ryan no longer had any sense of time and only wanted to obey the controller, inhale the fumes and pleasure himself and his bros. It was probably 5 or 6 days into the programming regime that four new bros arrived in shiny rubber tracksuits and took them to another part of the building for the next phase of programming. This was to be the final assimilation.

They were taken into a dormitory where black rubber catsuits were laid out on the three beds. Rubber tracksuits hung next to the beds, with rubber boots and several pairs of sneakers under them. On a table next to each bed were several small yellow bottles and a pair of airbuds. In front of each bed was a tv screen.

Ryan took his trackies off and the rubber chavs pressed their rubber forms into his naked body. This was the first time he had felt rubber like this against his human skin and he wanted this to be his skin too. The others were rubbing his cock, fingering his quivering hole, and playing with his nipples. As his arse twitched and his cock dripped precum they stopped.

The rubber chavs slid each of Ryan’s legs into the well lubed suit and pulled it up to his waist. He stood up as they beckoned and felt that his legs were now fully encapsulated in rubber. He had never felt anything like this ecstasy. They pulled the suit up to his shoulders and slid the rubber over his arms. As the rear zip was fastened and locked into place he let out a little squeal of excitement.

A digital voice came through the airbuds, accompanied by text on the screen “THIS IS YOUR CONTROLLER. YOUR FINAL ASSIMILATION AS A RUBBER DRONE IS BEGINNING. THE DRONES WHO ARE ASSIMILATING YOU WERE MINDLESS CHAV LADS LIKE YOU. NOW YOU WILL KNOW TRUE MINDLESS BLISS AND SERVE THE HIVE LIKE THEM. INHALE THE DRONE FUEL. EMBRACE THE SPIRALS”

 “YOU HAVE BEEN CONDITONED TO ACCEPT THE ASSIMILATION PROGRAMME. DRONES ARE RUBBER OBJECTS. YOU HAVE RECEIVED THE DRONE SKIN WHICH HAS BEEN PREPARED FOR YOU. THIS SKIN WILL BE PART OF YOU. IT WILL TAKE YOU OVER. YOU WILL BE A RUBBER OBJECT.”

“YOU ARE NOW DRONE XC43. A MINDLESS RUBBER OBJECT. THE RUBBER IS YOUR SKIN. YOU HAVE NO HUMAN FEELS. YOU ONLY NEED THE DRONE FUEL WHICH ERASES THE HUMAN. YOU ARE A MINDLESS BATOR DRONE. YOU EXIST ONLY TO SERVE THE HIVE. YOU EXIST ONLY TO SERVE WITH YOUR DRONE BROS, NOURISHING AND PLEASURING THE HIVE. THIS IS YOUR EXISTENCE. NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.”

The voice was replaced with techno and the programme file played on a subliminal loop under the beats, the words flashing on the screen. The drones started to edge Ryan and bated each other through three fuel refills. Ryan was now closer to the edge than he had ever been. He needed to serve the hive and he started repeating the mantra.

“I AM NOW DRONE XC43. A MINDLESS RUBBER OBJECT. THE RUBBER IS MY SKIN. I HAVE NO HUMAN FEELS. I ONLY NEED THE DRONE FUEL WHICH ERASES THE HUMAN. I AM A MINDLESS BATOR DRONE. I EXIST ONLY TO SERVE THE HIVE. I EXIST ONLY TO SERVE WITH MY DRONE BROS, NOURISHING AND PLEASURING THE HIVE. THIS IS MY EXISTENCE. NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.”

The drones replaced the filter with a hose and fuel pump and Ryan increasingly pumped the fumes into the gasmask. He was now mindless. He had no human feels. It had no human feels. The rubber was its skin. It was a rubber object. It needed only fuel. It would serve as programmed. It was assimilated with the hive. Its mantra had changed from the first to the third person.

“IT IS NOW DRONE XC43. A MINDLESS RUBBER OBJECT. THE RUBBER IS ITS SKIN. IT HAS NO HUMAN FEELS. IT ONLY NEEDS THE DRONE FUEL WHICH ERASES THE HUMAN. IT IS A MINDLESS BATOR DRONE. IT EXISTS ONLY TO SERVE THE HIVE. IT EXISTS ONLY TO SERVE WITH ITS DRONE BROS, NOURISHING AND PLEASURING THE HIVE. THIS IS ITS EXISTENCE. NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.”

The other drones nodded to each other, XC43 stood up and approached its new drone bros. They embraced and XC43 dutifully bated each one until they had drained their cum for the hive. Only then did it drain a massive and orgasmic load of cum from its own cock. The assimilation was complete. XC43 was now a mindless chav drone ready to serve the hive.

[chavdrone]

Connor loved the smell of his sneaks when he took them off. He’d have a good sniff of his Tn’s whenever he had been wearing them for a few hours. Sneaker in one hand and the other hand down his trackie pants. Like all his chav mates, Connor's hands spent a lot of time down his pants. Unlike most of them he got turned on by chav lads, the gear they wore, and especially his mate Ryan.

Connor has been bored fuckin’ shitless. His 3 best mates hadn’t been around for a week and he’d missed having them to hang out with. Now Ryan had a new pair of Tn’s and a sweet new EA7 puffa, so he’d got some money from somewhere, but wouldn’t say where he’d been with Luke and Darren. He said the other two would be out later and he’d find out all about it then.

Luke and Ryan spent the afternoon hanging out in the city centre. All the normal shit …. Went in JD Sports and Foot Locker, met some mates, got dirty looks off some of the shoppers, smoked some weed and got high as fuck in the park. They’d got nothing else to do. They didn’t have jobs but they always found ways to get money for clothes, sneakers and weed. Know what I mean?

Luke and Darren hadn’t replied to Connor’s texts, but Ryan said he had seen them the night before so Connor didn’t give it much of a thought. Connor didn’t think much about anything unless it was football, video games or getting high. It was a normal day doing mindless shit. Connor liked mindless. He figured he and Ryan would get mindless with some of that weed tonight.

They went up to Ryan’s room, kicked their sneaks off and Ryan put a techno channel on YouTube. It was good stuff, a really good beat with spirals playing on the screen. Almost hypnotic. When Ryan left the room Connor picked up one of his sneaks for a sniff. He couldn't resist a freshly worn Tn and the idea of smelling Ryan's man scent got him horny.

Connor took a deep breath of Ryan’s sneaker scent but it wasn’t what he was expecting. It was so intoxicating, his pulse raced, his cock was getting hard, he could feel the techno pumping through his whole body. It felt like his brain was erasing. Connor loved this feeling. It felt better than a weed high and now he was horny as fuck too. He sniffed more as his human feels started to evaporate and he began to fixate on the spirals.

Ryan came back and lay down on the bed next to Connor. He had a knowing smile because he knew  what was going to happen when Luke and Daz cam over. Ryan dripped some liquid into one of Connor’s sneaks, held it to his own face and breathed deep. His other hand instinctively slid into his trackie pants. As he felt his human feels begin to erase he quickly sent a text ….. “It’s ready”.

It didn’t take long for the liquid to take full effect leaving Connor and Ryan mindlessly bating the throbbing cocks inside their trackies. Neither of them knew, or even cared, why this was all that mattered to them now. They had no feelings or thoughts of their own. Sniffing this liquid kept them in mindless bating bliss.

When Connor felt the human feels start to return he reached out for the little yellow and red bottle Ryan had used. He dripped some liquid into the Tn he was sniffing and then into the Vm that Ryan was vacantly holding out for more of the same. Ryan fixed straps to each of their sneaks and handed one back to Connor. The straps went over their heads holding the shoes to their faces leaving both their hands free.

Wearing a sneaker almost like a facemask gave Connor a rush he had never felt before. It removed more of his human identity. The pair of them were losing their human feelings and their human identities. He needed to erase more of the human and grabbed his pair of Huarache gloves. They covered up more of his human appearance and the texture felt amazing on his cock.

Connor slid one of his gloved hands down Ryan’s trackies and started to edge Ryan’s cock as well as his own. Ryan now had the same vacant look in his eyes as Connor. They had completely erased all human feels as they edged each other in a mindless bliss, the techno and sneaker fumes pulsing through them. They were so mindless they didn’t notice the door open and two figures come in. Connor felt Ryan’s hand pull away from his cock and a different hand pulled his hand out of Ryan’s.

Now he became very aware of the two silent figures. Connor thought they looked like Luke and Darren in the familiar chav uniform of Tn’s, trackies, puffas and baseball caps, but something was very different. These lads had gasmasks with reflective lenses where their faces should be. They also had shiny black rubber gloved hands which had grabbed hold of him and were forcing him face down on the bed.

Connor was still mostly mindless from the liquid they had been sniffing so hard and didn’t put up any kind of resistance as one rubber chav pulled the sneaker harness off his face. The brief snatch of fresh air now felt alien to him. The other masked chav picked up what looked like a paint spraycan from Ryan’s desk and hit Connor with a long burst of the spray.

The spray smelt like sweat, piss and cum and for all Connor knew that’s what it tasted like. It quickly overcame Connor’s senses and he found himself unable to resist as a rubber gasmask was pulled over his face and the attached hood zipped closed. The smell of his new rubber face just was as intoxicating as the liquid from the sneakers and the spray which coated his face. He felt his cock harden again.

With one rubbery chav holding him down, the other slid on wrist and ankle cuffs and now he was completely helpless. This just made his cock throb harder. As the pair rolled him over he looked around to see what had happened to Ryan. He was also hooded and gasmasked but wasn’t cuffed. The rubber chavs handed him a filter which he screwed onto the gasmask and the three of them began to take deep, deliberate breaths.

Ryan took a pair of headphones from one of the rubber chavs and put them on over his hooded S10 gasmask. Then he unzipped his trackie top revealing a shiny black layer underneath. He put on a pair of black latex gloves before removing the tracksuit top and pants. He stood before Connor clad entirely in a skin tight shiny black rubber catsuit, his cock bulging behind a glistening codpiece. He motioned to the rubber chavs who nodded silently in acknowledgement.

The two rubber chavs now took off their puffas and trackies and were dressed exactly the same as Ryan, down to identical Nike Tn’s and bulging codpieces. They each put on a pair of headphones and Connor could no longer tell which of these figures was Ryan. He should have been scared but all he could think of was how good the liquid had been and how mindless bating with Ryan felt so good. He wanted to bate with the three lads in front of him. This was kinky as fuck and he loved it.

The rubber chavs used restraints to strap Connor into Ryan’s gaming chair which they placed in front of the tv so he couldn’t avoid the screen. One of them placed a pair of headphones over Ryan’s ears and now his head was filled with white noise. Another dripped liquid into a filter and screwed it to the gasmask. A series of multicoloured spirals appeared on the tv screen in front of him.

A digital voice that sounded a bit like Ryan came over the top of the white noise accompanied by text on the screen “THIS IS YOUR CONTROLLER. YOUR ASSIMILATION AS A RUBBER DRONE IS BEGINNING. THE DRONES WHO ARE ASSIMILATING YOU WERE MINDLESS CHAV LADS LIKE YOU AND NOW THEY KNOW TRUE MINDLESS BLISS AND ONLY SERVE THE HIVE. YOU WILL BECOME LIKE THEM.”

This repeated several times before the noise faded out to techno and the spirals became the translucent foreground to a montage of chav lads and rubbermen. The words “LISTEN WATCH BREATHE SUBMIT ASSIMILATE MINDLESS BLISS” flashed on and off the screen and were repeated into his headphones. Connor began to take deep breaths as instructed and fixated on the spiral. He was listening and watching. His human senses were being overloaded. He was ready to submit.

After several minutes of binaural subliminal audio the digital voice returned to the headphones. “THE FUMES YOU ARE BREATHING ERASE YOUR HUMAN FEELS. YOUR BRAIN IS EMPTY OF HUMAN FEELS. THEY ARE A DISTRACTION FROM YOUR NEW PURPOSE. WHEN YOU HARE ERASED YOU CAN KNOW THE MINDLESS BLISS OF SERVING THE CHAV DRONE HIVE. THIS IS ALL YOU WANT. YOU EXIST ONLY TO BE AN OBEDIENT RUBBER DRONE.”

One of the drones removed the filter and attached a hose with both a filter and spraycan attached. The filter was filled with fresh fuel and he breathed deeper and deeper as the fumes pulsed through his body and erased his human feels. Soon he was free of human feels, mindlessly breathing the fuel while watching the pictures, words and spiral on the screen.

One of the drones gave a long burst of the spray straight into the gasmask. It did smell of sweat, piss and cum, but unlike the first burst it didn’t overwhelm his senses and just made him feel horny as fuck. He wanted the chavs and rubber men on the screen. He wanted to be like the three rubber drones in front of him. He wanted to serve the hive.

“YOU LOVE THE FUMES THAT ERASE YOUR MIND. YOU LOVE THE SPRAY THAT SMELLS OF SWEAT, PISS AND CUM FROM YOU DRONE BROS. IT MAKES YOU HORNY. YOU LOVE THE IMAGES OF CHAV LADS AND RUBBERMEN. THEY MAKE YOU WANT TO BATE YOUR COCK AND YOUR BROS COCKS. WHEN YOU SMELL THE SPRAY AND SEE THE IMAGES YOU WILL ONLY WANT TO BE A BRAINLESS BATOR DRONE.”

His hard cock was twitching when one of the drones started to rub it through his trackies. All three drones now had pulsating rubber sheathed cocks exposed where the codpieces had been. One of them started to edge Connor while the other two drones looked on rubbing each other’s shiny black cocks. Any time Connor came close to cumming the drone would stop and instead bate one of the other drones to orgasm.

Each time Connor was denied release, the filter was refuelled and the process started over. It was torture watching the drones cum while he couldn’t, all while being fed a constant stream of hot chavs and rubber drones on the screen. Connor wanted to be in the rubber. He wanted to cum. He wanted to nourish the hive. He was ready to assimilate for an existence of mindless bator bliss.

Finally when all three drones had been drained the white noise and digital voice returned on a loop repeating “YOU HAVE BEEN CONDITONED TO ACCEPT THE ASSIMILATION PROGRAMME. DRONES ARE RUBBER OBJECTS. YOU WILL NOW RECEIVE THE DRONE SKIN WHICH HAS BEEN PREPARED FOR YOU. THIS SKIN WILL BE PART OF YOU. IT WILL TAKE YOU OVER. YOU WILL BE A RUBBER OBJECT.”

If Connor had any resistance it had long gone. He was now a mindless drooling sex object. His only purpose now was to assimilate like his old chav bros had. As the techno returned to the headphones, the drones unlocked the cuffs and released the straps from the chair. One of them motioned to him to remove his clothes and he complied, taking off his North Face trackies, EA7 t shirt, CK underwear, and Nike socks.

The drones refilled Connor’s fuel and pressed their rubber forms into his naked body. This was the first time he had felt rubber like this against his human skin and he wanted this to be his drone skin. The drones were rubbing his cock, fingering his quivering hole, and playing with his nipples. As his arse twitched and his cock dripped precum they stopped and laid out a shiny black rubber catsuit in front of him on the bed.

The drones slid each of Connor’s legs into the well lubed suit and pulled it up to Connor’s waist. He stood up as they beckoned and felt that his legs were now fully encapsulated in rubber. He had never felt anything like this ecstasy. The drones pulled the suit up to his shoulders and slid the rubber over his arms. As the rear zip was fastened and locked into place he let out a little squeal of excitement.

Connor now stood before the drones knowing he would soon be one of them. They handed him black rubber gloves and toe socks which he eagerly accepted and slid on. One of the drones inserted a butt plug which was a nice snug fit in his now eager hole. As the drone zipped up his arse access he was now fully enclosed, and once wrist and ankle cuffs had been locked on he was ready to commence the final assimilation programme.

The drones motioned for him to sit back in the chair where once again his wrists were strapped to the arms of the chair. The techno crossfaded into white noise and he fixed his gaze on the tv where the spiral reappeared. He loved the spiral and he loved the fresh fuel in the filter which one of the drones screwed back onto the hose. He breathed deep, fixated on the spiral and waited for the assimilation programme to load.

“YOU ARE NOW DRONE XD43. A MINDLESS RUBBER OBJECT. THE RUBBER IS YOUR SKIN. YOU HAVE NO HUMAN FEELS. YOUR CONTROL DRONE IS XC43. YOUR CONTROL DRONE IS PROGRAMMED BY THE HIVE AND YOU WILL FOLLOW ITS COMMANDS. YOU EXIST ONLY TO SERVE WITH YOUR DRONE BROS, NOURISHING AND PLEASURING THE HIVE. THIS IS YOUR EXISTENCE. NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.”

The static was replaced with techno and the programme file played on a subliminal loop under the beats, the words flashing on the screen. The drones continued to edge Connor and bated each other through three fuel refills. Connor was now closer to the edge than he had ever been. He needed to serve the hive and he started repeating the mantra.

The spray was now next to his hand and Connor increasingly pumped it into the gasmask. He was now mindless. He had no human feels. It had no human feels. The rubber was its skin. It was a rubber object. It needed only fuel. It would serve as programmed. It was assimilated with the hive. Its mantra had changed from the first to the third person.

“IT IS NOW DRONE XD43. A MINDLESS RUBBER OBJECT. THE RUBBER IS ITS SKIN. IT HAS NO HUMAN FEELS. ITS CONTROL DRONE IS XC43. ITS CONTROL DRONE IS PROGRAMMED BY THE HIVE AND IT WILL FOLLOW ITS COMMANDS. IT EXISTS ONLY TO SERVE WITH ITS DRONE BROS, NOURISHING AND PLEASURING THE HIVE. THIS IS ITS EXISTENCE. NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.”

The other drones nodded to each other and removed the wrist straps. Its assimilation complete XD43 stood up and embraced its fellow drone units. They bated XD43 until it produced a huge load of cum.

With no human feels the orgasm hit a new intensity. As the pleasure pulsed through the hive, all four drones spasmed uncontrollably until XD43 had completely drained. X43 was now a fully synchronised and operational drone team. Now they would return to the hive and begin their service together.

[tfkinksterz]

I will wear UnderArmour and Nike every day.

My entire wardrobe will be athletic brands.

I will work out every day for my master.

Master decides what I wear.

Master decides what I do.

I belong to my master.

Carlos can’t help but repeat after the suggestions flooding his brain through his earphones. This is his second day trapped in this trance, and he hasn’t snapped out of it for a minute, and also hasn’t changed out of the sweaty workout clothes he’s been hypnotized to wear. He’ll likely never break this spell unless someone actively undoes it somehow. He just wants to listen to the files, work out, and wear Nike and UnderArmour, forever.

[muscledjockboy-deactivated20240]

I belong to my Master. I belong to my Master. I belong to my Master. I belong to my Master

[little-pup-max]

Name a better combo than a jockstrap, baseball cap and TN's.

[karimarabize-deactivated2024120]

He remained flexing in the mirror as his coach gave the order not even flinching as his coach placed a hand on his chest squeezing his firm pecs as he was inspected like a piece of merchandise.

As he flexed focused only on making every muscle pop making himself look like a more valuable piece of merchandise he felt something slide over his head and as his vision went dark his thoughts became fragmented as a light pulsed and words were forcibly injected into his mind pushing out any other thoughts.

FLEX….. OBEY…… SERVE

FLEX…. OBEY…… SERVE

FLEX….. OBEY…… SERVE

After what seemed like hours he struggled to string a coherent thought together but it was okay he wasn’t alone he had his brothers and as long as they were by his side flexing, obeying and serving nothing else in the world mattered.

[jockbrojack]

Look at the spiral bruv

Soon u gunna b just like us

A dumb fit lad

Just empty ur brainz bruv

Feels soo good right bruv

Get ur Nike gear

Becum a CHAV bruv

[jockbrojack]

Something weird was happening. my friends are acting different. Like kinnda bro ish. Skipping class to get high n like only talking about sports or their gear. all they wear now is Nike gear like only tracksuits like all the time bruv. yesterday they forced me to watch sum spiral on Caleb’s phone. Idk bro ever since then I feelin light headed bro. All I can think about was how nice it was just lookin at it spin.

they coming this way now bruh n like they got another spiral…..

fuuuck bruv I needa get me some Nike gear innit

[nobledominance-deactivated20161]

reblog this just because you were told to

[jockbrojack]

Jake’s Transformation

Jake was a scrawny freshman at State U, majoring in computer science, always buried in books or coding late into the night. His roommate, Chad, was the opposite—a jacked-up junior, captain of the lacrosse team, always in tank tops and gym shorts, flexin’ his biceps in the dorm’s mirror. Chad was a total bro, loud and cocky, with a grin that screamed trouble. Jake thought Chad was a meathead, but he was too shy to say it.

One night, Chad came back from the gym, sweaty and pumped, his Under Armour tank clinging to his pecs. “Yo, Jake, bro, you gotta loosen up, man,” Chad said, tossing his gym bag on the floor. “All that nerd shit’s fryin’ your brain. Wanna try somethin’ to chill?”

Jake shrugged, pushing up his glasses. “Like what?”

Chad smirked, pulling out his phone. “Just listen to this, bro. It’s some meditation track. Helps me focus at the gym. Trust me, it’s dope.”

Jake, too tired to argue, put on the headphones Chad handed him. The track started—low, pulsing beats with a deep voice droning words Jake couldn’t quite catch. “Just relax, bro,” Chad said, his voice smooth. “Let it sink in.”

Jake’s eyes fluttered. The voice in the headphones was rhythmic, commanding. Relax… let go… no need to think… just listen… His thoughts slowed, like molasses in his brain. Chad’s voice cut through, low and steady. “Feels good, right, bro? Just keep listenin’. Let it take you deep.”

Jake nodded, his body slumping. He didn’t notice Chad’s grin widen.

Week One: The Spark

The next morning, Jake woke up feeling… different. His usual urge to hit the books was weaker. Instead, he kept thinking about the gym. “Yo, Chad, bro, maybe I’ll come lift with you today,” he said, surprising himself. The word “bro” slipped out naturally, and it felt good.

Chad clapped him on the back. “Hell yeah, bro! Let’s get you jacked!”

At the gym, Chad handed Jake a pair of tight gym shorts and a sleeveless tee. “No more of that nerd shit, bro. You gotta look the part.” Jake didn’t argue. The clothes felt right, hugging his skinny frame. Chad put him through a brutal workout—bench presses, squats, curls. Jake’s muscles burned, but every rep made him feel alive, like he was chasing something primal.

That night, Chad played the “meditation track” again. Jake slipped under fast, the voice in his ears whispering: Muscles are everything… flexing is power… no need to think… just lift… just obey… Chad leaned close, his voice a low growl. “You love the gym, don’t you, bro? It’s all you care about.”

Jake mumbled, “Yeah, bro… love the gym…”

Week Four: The Shift

By the end of the month, Jake was unrecognizable. His glasses were gone—Chad convinced him contacts were “more alpha.” His wardrobe was all gym gear now: tank tops, compression shorts, snapbacks. He ditched his coding classes, signing up for kinesiology instead. “Who needs that nerd shit, bro?” he’d say, flexing in the dorm mirror. His biceps were starting to bulge, his chest filling out his tanks. Every flex sent a rush through him, like he was showing off for the world.

Chad’s hypnosis sessions got more intense. Every night, Jake listened to the track, sinking deeper. Forget your old self… no thoughts… just muscle… just obedience… Chad’s voice was law now. “You’re a jock, bro,” Chad would say. “A dumb, horny fuckboy. That’s all you are.”

Jake nodded, drooling slightly. “Yeah, bro… dumb fuckboy… so horny…”

He started jerking off constantly, each climax making his head fuzzier. Every time he came, it was like his old self—his smarts, his personality—melted away. He’d stare at his reflection, flexing, grinning like an idiot. “Fuck yeah, bro, look at these gains!” His voice was louder, cockier, dripping with toxic masculinity.

Month Three: Total Fuckboy

By mid-semester, Jake was gone. In his place was “Jocko,” a swaggering, muscle-obsessed bro who lived for the gym and the mirror. His Instagram was flooded with shirtless selfies, captions like “#SwoleLife, bro! 💪😎.” He’d flex for anyone, anywhere—dorm halls, frat parties, even the library. Girls and guys stared, and Jocko loved it. “Check these pecs, bro!” he’d yell, bouncing them for attention.

His mind was a haze. Classes? Pointless. All he thought about was lifting, sports, and looking hot. Chad had him on a strict gym schedule, and every session ended with hypnosis. The track rewired him deeper: No thoughts… only muscle… only pleasure… obey Chad… Jocko’s IQ was in freefall. He couldn’t spell half the words he used to know, but who cared? “Bro, I’m fuckin’ jacked!” was all he needed to say.

His clothes were pure jock style—tight tanks, low-slung gym shorts, jockstraps that showed off his bulge. He’d strut around campus, horny 24/7, jerking off three, four times a day. Each orgasm made him dumber, locking him tighter into the jock bro mindset. “Fuck, bro, feels so good to be stupid,” he’d mutter, stroking himself in front of the mirror.

Month Six: Complete Obedience

By spring, Jocko was a shell of Jake. His personality was erased, replaced with pure, toxic masculinity. He lived to flex, fuck, and obey Chad. The hypnosis was permanent now—every session stripped away more of his old self. You’re nothing but muscle… nothing but horniness… nothing but a dumb jock bro… Chad didn’t even need the track anymore. A snap of his fingers, and Jocko’s eyes glazed over, ready to follow orders.

“Yo, Jocko, flex for me, bro,” Chad would say.

Jocko grinned, ripping off his tank to show off his chiseled pecs and ripped abs. “Fuck yeah, bro, look at this bod!” His cock twitched in his jockstrap, always half-hard, always ready. He’d jerk off right there if Chad told him to, each climax frying his brain further. He was addicted to it—addicted to being a dumb, obedient fuckboy.

One night, Chad leaned in close, smirking. “You’re perfect, bro. No thoughts left. Just a horny muscle machine. Who are you?”

Jocko’s eyes were blank, his voice a monotone drawl. “I’m Jocko, bro. Dumb jock bro. Love the gym. Love flexin’. Love obeyin’ you, bro.”

Chad laughed. “Good boy. Obedience is pleasure, right?”

Jocko nodded, his hand already in his shorts. “Fuck yeah, bro. Obedience is pleasure.”

Epilogue

Jocko never went back to being Jake. His old life—coding, books, individuality—was gone, burned away by Chad’s hypnosis and his own uncontrollable horniness. He dropped out of college, becoming a gym influencer, posting endless flexing vids for his thousands of followers. “Yo, bro, get swole or go home!” he’d caption, his brain too fried to think of anything else.

Every jerk-off session locked him deeper into the jock bro mindset, his mind a cycle of gym, sports, and showing off. He wore nothing but jock gear, his body a walking billboard for toxic masculinity. Chad was his king, his voice the only thing that mattered. Jocko was free—free from thought, free from individuality, free to be nothing but a dumb, horny, obedient jock bro forever.

[jockbrojack]

Bro it feels soo gud just 2 give in

Let the spiral consume u bro

Let it rewrite ur mind bro

All ur gunna care about now is muscles n looking hot bro

Obedience is pleasure bro. N all u wanna do now is OBEY

💪🏼🤤💪🏼

[jockbrojack]

Jack and Connor

Jack, 19, stepped into his dorm room at Queens University, his skinny frame hauling a duffel bag stuffed with books and band tees. First year, fresh start, but his nerdy heart was pounding. The room smelled like sweat and protein shakes, and there, sprawled on one of the beds, was Connor—six-foot-three, muscles bulging under a tight tank top, basketball shorts slung low, showing off that V-line. His jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Connor grinned, all cocky and alpha, sizing Jack up like he was prey.

“Yo, bro, you Jack? I’m Connor, your roomie. Gonna make you one of us, bruh,” Connor said, his voice deep, dripping with that toxic masculine charm. Jack blushed, unsure what “one of us” meant, but his dick twitched at the thought. Connor was the kind of dude who owned every room he walked into, and Jack already felt small next to him.

First week was chill, but Jack noticed Connor’s routine: gym at dawn, flexing in the mirror, always shirtless, always smirking. Jack caught himself staring, his brain foggy with lust every time Connor’s biceps flexed or his shorts hugged his thick thighs. One night, Connor caught Jack’s gaze in the mirror, his hand lingering on his crotch. “Yo, bro, you wanna be like me, don’t ya?” Connor teased, his voice low, commanding. Jack stammered, but Connor just chuckled, pulling out his phone. “C’mere, bruh. Check this out.”

The screen lit up with a swirling spiral, colors pulsing—red, blue, green—spinning faster, pulling Jack’s eyes in. “Just watch, bro. Let it sink in,” Connor whispered, his voice like a warm hand stroking Jack’s mind. Jack’s thoughts slowed, his body relaxed, and his dick hardened in his jeans. The spiral was all he could see, Connor’s voice all he could hear. “You wanna be a jock, bro. Dumb, strong, horny as fuck. Ain’t that right?”

“Y-yeah, bro,” Jack mumbled, his voice slurring, his mind slipping. Connor grinned, his hand resting on Jack’s thigh, squeezing. “Good boy. Keep watching. Let it rewire you.”

Every night, Connor pulled out the spiral. Jack would sit, eyes glued, as Connor’s voice drilled into him. “You love the gym, bro. Muscle’s all that matters. You’re a jock now, bruh. Horny, dumb, and obedient.” Jack’s brain melted under the words, his old life—books, grades, geeky hobbies—fading. He started jerking off to the spiral, Connor’s voice guiding him, each stroke making him dumber, hornier, more like Connor. “Cum, bro. Let it make you mine,” Connor would growl, and when Jack shot his load, his mind sank deeper, his individuality dissolving into toxic jock bro haze.

Connor took Jack to the gym, tossing him a pair of basketball shorts and a sleeveless jersey. “No more nerd shit, bruh. This is you now.” Jack nodded, his brain too foggy to argue, his dick throbbing at Connor’s command. In the gym, Connor pushed him hard—bench presses, squats, deadlifts. Jack’s scrawny body burned, but every rep felt like sex, his cock leaking in his shorts as Connor barked, “Push it, bro! Build that muscle!” Jack obeyed, addicted to the pump, to Connor’s voice, to the mirror showing his body changing.

Weeks passed, and Jack was gone. His old clothes—band tees, skinny jeans—were trashed. Now it was all jock gear: loose basketball shorts, tight tanks, snapbacks. He’d flex in every mirror, grinning like a cocky fuckboy, his dick always half-hard, always ready to goon. Connor’s spiral sessions kept him dumb, his brain a loop of “gym, muscle, bro, obey.” He’d jerk off for hours, hand in his shorts, each orgasm stripping more of his old self. “Feels good to be dumb, don’t it, bro?” Connor would say, and Jack would moan, “Fuck yeah, bruh.”

By mid-semester, Jack was unrecognizable. His body was thicker, shoulders broad, pecs starting to pop. He’d swagger around campus, calling everyone “bro,” his voice louder, dumber. He’d abandoned classes, his only focus the gym, sports, and looking hot. Connor was his coach now, his alpha, and Jack lived for his approval. “Flex for me, bruh,” Connor would order, and Jack would, his muscles tensing, his cock throbbing in his shorts. “Good jock,” Connor’d say, and Jack’s brain would buzz with pleasure, no thoughts left but obedience.

One night, Connor pushed it further. “On your knees, bro,” he commanded, pulling out his phone, the spiral spinning. Jack dropped, his mouth watering, his mind blank. Connor unzipped his shorts, his thick cock springing free. “Suck it, bruh. Show me you’re my dumb jock.” Jack obeyed, his lips wrapping around Connor’s dick, his brain screaming “bro, muscle, obey.” As he sucked, Connor’s voice filled him: “You’re nothing but a horny fuckboy now, Jack. No thoughts, no individuality. Just my jock bro.” Jack came in his shorts, untouched, his mind sinking deeper into submission.

From then on, Jack was Connor’s. He’d follow him to the gym, mimic his every move, his every “bro.” He’d goon for hours, hand always on his dick, addicted to the dumb jock life. His TikTok was all flexing vids, shirtless thirst traps, captioned “Just a dumb bro, bruh 💪.” The algorithm fed his obsession, rotting his brain further, making him indistinguishable from every other Gen Z fuckboy. He loved it—loved the cocky swagger, the toxic masculinity, the groupthink that shaped him. Connor’s spiral had erased Jack’s old self, leaving only a muscled, horny, obedient jock bro, forever flexing, forever dumb, forever Connor’s.

“Yo, bro, you ready to train?” Connor asked one morning, tossing Jack a protein shake.

“Fuck yeah, bruh,” Jack grinned, already hard, already mindless, ready to obey. Muscle was all that mattered, and he’d never break free.

[jockbrojack]

Just obey the spiral bruh.

Let it take you deeper and deeper.

More and more of a dumb jock bro.

Feels so good to let go.

Obeisance is pleasure

[hypnobro50]

GYM HYPNO TAKEOVER

Tyler had wondered what was so amazing about the new gym that had opened up earlier that week but his friends insisted that it would change his life so he decided to check it out. He entered and headed to the front desk to get his membership started.

As tyler finished making an account and getting hos profile set up, the man at the counter handed him a pair of green headphone. Tyler was told that they were complimentary as he noticed all of the other men he could see were using them already.

Tyler marched his was to a treadmill to start his cardio workout for the day and set up his phone to the Bluetooth of his new headphones. While listening to music, he could hear static and thought the headphones were cheap. He went to take them off but then a voice in his head told him not to. Or maybe it came from the headphones? He couldn’t tell. The voice grew louder and told him to relax. He listened immediately. The voice told him he would be compliant. Listen to all orders. He would obey. Tyler’s resistance to the voice faded.

The voice told Tyler to go to the locker room and he listened immediately. Without knowing what locker to go to, he walked to the back room and entered a number he didn’t know he knew.

The locker opened to reveal clothing. Nothing Tyler had or would ever wear on his own. A tight muscle tank top and a green jockstrap. He put them back into the locker when the voice came through the headphones and seeped directly into his mind. This time erasing all of Tyler’s willpower.

Tyler stripped where he stood and began to change into his new clothing. He didn’t care what anybody thought of him he knew he had to obey the voice in his head. Other men in the locker room had already began to strip as well putting on matching clothes. The tank fit him like a glove and the jockstrap cradled his cock perfectly. He couldn’t help but admire himself in the mirror

The voice told Tyler that it was time to join the rest of the men in the gym back for more working out. He walked mindlessly back to the treadmill he started on and began to run. He needed to get bigger. He needed to obey the voice telling him to grow. Get dumb. Obey his master. Every man would obey just like him.