Alton lounged comfortably at a small marble table on the bustling Piazza della Signoria, soaking in the warm Italian sun with a fresh espresso. His muscular frame stretched out in the chair, shiny gold shirt hugging every ridge of his chest as he people-watched, with that cocky message in the chest that left no one indifferent… just as he had expected.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a massive figure walking through the square. That man looked familiar… very familiar.
"Wait..." He thought. "Is that... 302?!"
Alton was right.
It was SERVE-302, though he looked slightly different today. He was not wearing the usual SERVE uniform, but rather more human clothes, somehow blending into the elegant Florentine surroundings like he’d been built for them. Still, the sheer size and presence were unmistakable.
Alton grinned, not overthinking it. Screw it, he thought, the view’s still goddamn hot.
"Yo, SERVE-302, bro!" he called out loudly, waving his thick arm. "No fucking way! What are you doing in Florence, dude? Get over here, man. Sit your ass down with me!"
SERVE-302 turned, clearly surprised to see the loud-mouthed jock there. After a brief pause, the big man changed direction and approached the table with his usual confident, measured stride.
Upon reaching Alton, the two greeted each other with a quick, honest hug and sat down at the table.
"What are you doing here, bro?"
"You know me, man! There is always one SERVE mission or another to carry out. Work, work." The drone explained with a smile. "At least this time I got to come to a place as great as Florence! And what are YOU doing here? Any Golden Army match in town?"
"No way! I've come to relax and have a good time, you know me! And... and..." Alton was left speechless when he suddenly noticed something was off. "Wait.. How come you're talking like a normal person?! And what's with that smile?! You're not my bro 302... are you an impostor?!"
"Hahahaha, relax, man." 302 exclaimed after an honest laugh. "I’ll spare you the boring details, but I’m using a personality module that emulates human behavior... specifically, a variant that I think really fits your vibe." He added, puffing out his chest and flexing his bicep just as he had seen Alton do hundreds of times.
"Bro, if it matches that text on your t-shirt... you bet! Roar!"
[ . . . ]
The afternoon sun bathed Piazza della Signoria in golden light while they continued chatting. The two massive, muscular men turned more than a few heads, but neither seemed to notice.
SERVE-302, in his tight black shirt, sat with perfect posture, hands folded, studying the jock in the shiny gold shirt opposite him. Alton, still buzzing with energy, leaned forward, gesturing wildly with both hands.
"Bro! Dude, I swear I’m like, totally recovered, man. That red pup barely got a scratch in thanks to you. You showed up like some kinda badass superhero or whatever. I still can’t believe it, 302. You’re legit the real deal, man!"
💬 0 🔁 14 ❤️ 31 · You’re Not Stepping On My Field · The sun hit the polished glass of the Golden Knights practice facility like it was bowi
Alton kept talking, barely pausing for breath. SERVE-302 listened quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly in amusement. Their lives were very different, and yet they seemed to connect well.
Eventually Alton circled back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look… I never really properly thanked you, bro. Not just for saving me. I mean… when you came by my place after? Fuck, dude. Your scent. That thick, manly musk just… stayed in my apartment for days. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every time I caught a whiff I got so fucking hard I had to jerk off. Like, multiple times a day, man. Picturing your big hands sliding all over this body, owning me…”
SERVE-302’s eyes darkened with heat. He stood up slowly, towering over the table.
"You talk too much, jockboy." He said in a deep, resonant voice.
In one smooth motion he pulled Alton up by the back of his neck, took off his sunglasses. and kissed him. Deep, hungry, and commanding. Alton melted into it instantly, a low moan escaping into SERVE-302’s mouth. When they finally broke apart, SERVE-302’s voice was low and steady.
"Tell me what you really want, jockboy."
Alton’s eyes were glassy with lust. “I want Daddy to show me where it goes… I want to be on my knees sucking that big Daddy cock like a good boy.”
Right there on the piazza, Alton dropped to his knees in front of 302, hands greedily reaching for 302's glutes while he pressed his face against the prominent bulge in the black shorts, inhaling deeply, visibly intoxicated by the scent.
SERVE-302 let out a low growl of approval but gently stopped him, tilting Alton’s chin up with strong fingers.
"If we keep this up, we're going to end up at the police station, my jockboy." He spoke, unable to hide his rapid breathing and the fact that he was struggling to contain himself. "My hotel is close. Be a good jockboy and wait."
Alton followed like an eager puppy the whole way, chattering nonstop. "This is so fucking hot, bro. Me and Daddy finally doing this for real? I’m so ready, man. My dick’s been twitching just thinking about you—"
Halfway down a narrow side street, SERVE-302 had enough. He pushed Alton against the warm stone wall, pinning him there with his much larger body.
"You talk too much, jockboy. Be still. Be a good boy."
SERVE-302 kissed him again, tongue invading his mouth, while his free hand slipped into his own shorts. When he pulled it back out, his thick fingers were shiny with precum and heavy with his musk. He pressed his palm firmly over Alton’s mouth.
"Breathe deep, jockboy."
Alton’s eyes rolled back in pure bliss. He inhaled greedily, licking and sucking at SERVE-302’s fingers like a man starved, whimpering against the dominant hand while staring up at his Daddy with lustfull eyes.
The smell and taste of 302's precum seems to turn Alton obedient in a way he never expected to feel. His cock get's instantly hard the moment being called "jockboy".
"You like it, jockboy?"
"Yes, sir." He mubled with 302's hand still over his mouth. The word 'sir' fell from Alton's lips so naturally that it made his bliss-drenched mind wonder how it was possible he could have called 302 anything else until that moment.
"Good boy." 302's deep tone betrayed pure satisfaction. His body was reacting just as expected, and his hard-on pressed firmly against Alton’s crotch.
[ . . . ]
When they arrived at the hotel, it was already dusk.
The hotel room door had barely clicked shut before clothes were torn off amid grunts and laughter. SERVE-302 took complete control, using his powerful body to claim the loud-mouthed jock exactly how he needed.
Both men were tireless. The more 302 demanded of his jockboy, the more Alton gave of himself... even craving more. A loop of pure pleasure that kept both of them awake almost all night.
Alton moaned and begged the entire time, lost in pleasure, until both men finally collapsed in a sweaty, satisfied heap. SERVE-302 pulled Alton against his broad, hairy chest, and they drifted off to sleep tangled together.
The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the curtains. SERVE-302 woke first. He pressed slow, lingering kisses along Alton’s neck and shoulders until the jock stirred with a sleepy grin. One thing led to another, and SERVE-302 took him again... slow and deep this time, savoring every sound Alton made.
[ . . . ]
Afterward they moved to the private terrace for breakfast, the breathtaking view of Florence and the Duomo behind them. Both men were shirtless, muscles gleaming in the morning light. Alton, now in tight gold shorts, kept stealing glances and grinning like an idiot.
"So… you heading back home today too?" Alton asked between bites of croissant.
"Correct." SERVE-302 replied calmly, sipping his coffee. "Duty calls, you know. But this… was highly satisfactory, jockboy."
Alton laughed. "Understatement of the century, bro. We are one hundred percent doing this again. Like, soon. I need more of that Daddy treatment... sir."
SERVE-302 allowed himself honest, small smile and reached across the table to squeeze Alton’s thick thigh. "You bet, jockboy."
Back at the hotel room door, SERVE-302 pulled Alton in for one last deep, possessive kiss, his hand possessively gripping the back of the jock’s neck.
"Be good until next time." He murmured against Alton’s lips.
"Always for you, Daddy," Alton whispered back, a little dazed and very happy.
With one final glance over his shoulder, Alton headed off toward the station, already replaying every filthy, perfect moment in his head.
---------------------
This drone expresses deep gratitude towards @alton-gold77 for making this highly optimal collaboration possible.
---------------------
Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Visit this post on the Official SERVE Hive blog to contact a recruiter drone.
'The SERVER Collection' did not look like a normal clothing store.
Positioned at the center of the mall's upper promenade, its black-glass storefront glowed with deep server-green light while holographic spirals drifted across towering displays. Men carrying shopping bags and coffees slowed instinctively when they passed. Some glanced at the mannequins dressed in glossy green uniforms and continued on.
One man stopped completely.
The redhead stood motionless outside the entrance, unable to explain why the display had captured his attention so thoroughly.
Inside the doorway stood a man unlike anyone else in the mall.
His glossy server-green shirt hung open, revealing a sculpted torso beneath. Shiny black slacks and heavy boots completed the look. More than his appearance, however, it was his confidence that drew attention. He seemed entirely certain of who he was and exactly where he belonged.
The Sentinel met the redhead's eyes and smiled.
"You're looking for something different." The redhead laughed. "Is it that obvious?"
"Usually."
The Sentinel led him deeper into the store. Hovering drones projected measurements and product information above carefully arranged displays. Every surface reflected emerald light.
"These aren't ordinary clothes," the Sentinel explained. "They adapt to the wearer."
The redhead wasn't sure why that sounded appealing, but it did.
As they walked past rows of garments, one particular shirt immediately caught his attention.
The material shimmered under the lighting. When he touched it, the fabric felt unexpectedly warm.
"Try it on," the Sentinel suggested. Or, perhaps it was a command.
A few minutes later he emerged from the fitting area still wearing his jeans and sneakers, but now dressed in the reflective green shirt.
The fit was perfect.
Not close.
Perfect.
He studied himself in the mirror.
Something felt different.
Then the buttons began to glow.
One after another.
A pulse of green light traveled down the center of the garment while faint circuitry illuminated beneath the glossy surface. Spirals appeared across nearby displays, rotating slowly.
Warmth spread through his body.
His thoughts became quieter.
Clearer.
"It feels incredible," he said softly.
The Sentinel smiled.
"I know."
The lights intensified.
The shirt no longer seemed like clothing.
Server-green material flowed outward from the activated garment itself, extending across his arms and torso. Black detailing formed around joints, gloves, boots, and belt. A synchronization visor settled across his eyes.
He no longer looked uncertain.
He looked complete.
The Sentinel guided him toward the rear of the store.
Past mirrored stockrooms.
Past employee-only doors.
Past areas no ordinary customer ever saw.
Beyond them waited a transport preparation chamber lined with glowing containers and illuminated equipment.
Support drones descended from concealed ceiling ports.
Green scanners swept across the newly aligned server drone.
Every reading returned perfect.
Without hesitation, the server drone stepped into a waiting transport cradle.
Restraints secured automatically.
Status indicators illuminated around the housing.
Identity synchronized.
Purpose assigned.
Destination confirmed.
The Sentinel reviewed the shipment authorization one final time.
Everything was ready.
The Sentinel placed both hands on the transparent lid and carefully lowered it into position. Magnetic locks engaged around the frame one by one.
Inside, the new server drone remained perfectly calm.
Perfectly aligned.
A soft green glow filled the containment unit.
It would be a smooth transfer.
Most people believed 'The SERVER Collection' sold clothing.
They were not entirely wrong.
The garments simply revealed what had been waiting beneath the surface all along.
Some customers left carrying shopping bags.
Others departed on a different journey entirely.
The Sentinel would be standing at the entrance tomorrow beneath the server-green lights, welcoming the next visitor who slowed his pace while passing the storefront.
"You had invited your roommate to go out with you to that new spot you discovered in town, but he declined because he had team practice tomorrow. Now that you're back, you see him there, sleeping peacefully, but you know that to truly improve, you have to help him unleash his true nature."
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