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@justaguystl
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"Yes, little faggots, hop on and relax. We will take good care of you. Customer satisfaction is very important for us."
__________________________________
5 HOURS LATER
"100% customer satisfaction."
I'm not even sure if Kyle knew what his name was. He first met him outside his college waiting for a bus. The man in the leather jacket stopped and asked Kyle if he was local and if he could give directions.
Somehow, Kyle ended up walking with the man to show him. Whatever happened on the 10 minute walk, Kyle met the men the following evening.
It turned out that the man was also living locally, and hadn't actually needed directions, but it was a way of making a connection. Over the following week, Kyle was going round to the man's apartment each evening after college. He'd been targeted. Chosen and gathered up by the man as one of his current projects. Each visit, Kyle fell deeper and deeper under the man's influence. What was going on in Kyle's head can't be explained, but each evening Kyle would turn up and follow the same routine, kneeling on the floor before where the man sat, and would receive the first Marlboro Red between his lips as the man gazed into Kyle's eyes.
Kyle told his parents that he was studying in the evenings with one of his mates from college, without saying who it was. Instead, he was kneeling on the floor of a stranger's apartment as the man fed him cigarettes and spoke to him... speaking in a low and hypnotic voice about Marlboro.
Kyle would spend his day looking at the time, yearning for the moment he would step out of the college grounds and rush to his new mentor who'd be waiting for him, knowing Kyle would push the door, unlocked ready for Kyle to enter for that evening's hour long indoctrination.
It had begun with a fascination with the man's gaze and an inexplicable feeling of trust and reassurance. Within 10 days, the man's gaze and voice had become just the channel for what Kyle had come to focus on... Marlboro. From being the 'respectable' and polite young man who first walked into the man's apartment, he had transformed into a writhing jelly at the man's feet; the fetishization of Marlboro building as Kyle eagerly and desperately repeated the phrases the man instructed as Kyle smoked deep and hungrily, as if nothing else mattered in this state of overwhelming pleasure. "Marlboro is everything to me". "I live for Marlboro." "I belong to Marlboro". I worship Marlboro"... All Kyle's barriers had been broken down.
Within a month, the man had fully processed Kyle; Marlboro really was all that mattered to him. Kyle was ready to be passed on to the next level of being assimilated into the Cult.
We don't know what happened to Kyle, other than that he finished his studies and moved out of his family home to share with a new friend he'd been introduced to at the Marlboro Youth Club. That will have been his own decision. But his decisions were now fundamentally influenced by his new family.
The man filled Kyle's hour with another new project, amongst the other projects that visited his apartment over the hours of his evenings.
Caleb and Joseph are an out and proud gay couple. They met at work in a big tech company. I saw them online and saw there were not living their true life. So I dmed Joseph. After a few months here they are now.
I present you sparky and Joey. With my advice joey realised his alpha potential. When he stared acting like his true self Caleb felt he also needed to change to please his master. So he did everything Joey said until there was no more Caleb and just good boy Sparky.
he will understand soon.
SURRENDER
SUBMIT
SERVE
That’s right Himbo. You’re built to please others. You are eye candy. Keep falling deeper. You will never escape the thoughts i’ve implanted into your mind.
He is living the dream
Did all I could to avoid Rubber. Stayed in as much as possible, wore a mask when out, did t socialise, showered frequently during the day...
Thing is, why did I bother? It's not that I caught Rubber, but why don't they tell you just how fucking great it is? But no, they got to put the fear of god into you, make you alter your life, live scared like. When the reality is simply peace. Black, shiny, sleek Rubberised peace.
No wonder some think it's a global conspiracy. it is though, isn't it? They just don't want you to become the most perfect person you ever can be.
Don't linger there, in my doorway eh? I appreciate you came to make sure I'm alright. That's what mates do, isn't it? And I'm going to be your mate right now. Come and touch. Stroke. Feel my Rubber. This time tomorrow you'll be perfect too...
Career Change
Avery sat at the bar, drinking his third hard seltzer of the evening and getting lost in the haze. He couldn’t believe he was just laid off from his office desk job of 10 years. He didn’t know what he would do now or how he was going to make rent for his apartment. He had enough savings for a few months, but living in Boston was expensive.
The bar was loud but he drowned it out. There were a group of construction workers having beers a few tables away and having a good time.
Avery didn’t drink often. When he did though, he became a lot more talkative. He was telling the bartender everything. How he was laid off and how he was worried. The bartender just listened and kept him supplied with White Claws.
“Hey, buddy,” a deep voice sounded behind him. It was met with a touch of a hand on his shoulder, which startled him. “Doing alright?”
Avery turned around and saw a large man with a long beard. He was both muscular and hefty. His skin was tan and sun baked. He wore a construction vest. He looked dirty from working outside all day. He smelled of sweat and smoke. He stopped to talk as his buddies left the bar.
“Oh…umm…I’ll be alright,” Avery answered.
The man sat next to him and asked, “Sure about that?”
This man seemed intimidating, but also warm in an almost protective way. Avery opened up and flatly said, “No. Not sure what I’m going to do. I just have been laid off.”
“Heard that,” the man said, “Name’s Ox.”
“Ox?” Avery asked back, never hearing that name before.
The man leaned in and whispered, “Short for Oxford, but nobody knows that. And I plan on keeping it that way.”
“Gotcha. I’m Avery,” he chuckled.
Ox held out his hand, “Nice to meet ya, Avery.”
Avery shook it with a “You too, Ox.”
“So, you’re out of a job?” Ox continued, “Ever done construction?”
“No, never,” Avery answered.
“Want to?”
Avery remembered watching the construction workers across the street from his office window. He sometimes was envious of being able to work outside all day and being free from all the formalities that came with a corporate job.
“Umm…not sure if I would be a right fit. Look at me,” Avery confessed.
Ox laughed, “We all start somewhere. Know it would be different than whatever office you came from, but you’d learn. Better than being unemployed. Can be temporary until you find something else.”
What Ox was saying was true. It would be better than being unemployed.
“Sure, okay,” Avery said.
“Perfect!”
The two of them chatted for a bit and Ox told him where to report to tomorrow morning before heading out.
Outside, Ox took out a pack of Marlboro Reds and slid one out with his lips before lighting it up. Before parting ways, Avery asked, “Why are you offering to help me?”
“Trust me bubs, I was once in your shoes. Exactly in your shoes. It didn’t seem like it at the time, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me,” Ox answered.
Avery reached out his hand and Ox shook it. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
—
Avery reported to the job site. He woke up with second thoughts, but decided to not let Ox down and to give it a go. He wore his tennis shoes, jeans and a long sleeved dress shirt.
The minute Ox saw him, he said, “Buddy, I’m glad you showed up but you can’t wear tennis shoes on site.”
The color in Avery’s face drained, “It’s all I have. I don’t own boots.” Avery feared he was going to be fired before even starting.
“I got an extra pair you can borrow in my trailer. Follow me,” Ox said.
Ox unlocked the trailer and gestured Avery inside. His trailer was messy and smelled of stale smoke. Ox lit up a cigarette as he grabbed a pair of boots that were sitting on a chair.
“Put ‘em on,” he said as his lit cigarette bounced, “And if you got an undershirt, take off the fancy one.”
Avery did as he told as Ox looked through some filing cabinets. The boots fit just right and he had a tank top under his dress shirt, luckily.
“You have to fill these out then when can get started,” Ox said as he handed Avery some standard new employment paperwork.
When he was done, Ox looked over it, “Bullock? Your last name is Bullock?”
“Yes,” Avery confirmed, “Why?”
Ox chuckled as smoke exhaled from his nose, “I’m calling you Bull from now on. Ox and Bull.” Ox then gave Avery a vest and a hard hat, “Put that on and let’s get started, Bull.”
Ox showed Avery the job site. There were other men already hard at work who all knew what they were doing. These men looked rugged and strong. He noticed most of the men were smoking and wondered why most blue collar men smoke. Ox must have felt Avery’s lack of confidence because he said, “Don’t worry, Bull. You’ll be working with me for a while. I’ll teach ya.”
The two men started working. Avery was surprised that Ox was a good teacher; he explained everything, was patient and never made Avery feel stupid. After a couple of hours, Avery was already feeling exhausted so Ox suggested they take a “smoke break” - even though Ox was smoking the entire morning as they worked.
“You smoke?” Ox asked.
“No,” Avery answered.
Ox laughed and said, “Never smoked myself until I started construction work.”
“Oh,” Avery responded, knowing he would never pick up the habit himself.
After a long day at work, Ox invited Avery to go to a bar for some food and beer. “First day beer is on me, Bull,” he said.
“Umm…sure, I’ll go. Thanks, Ox,” Avery said.
—
After a month of working as a construction worker, Avery was getting use to working long, hard days. He found himself liking the work and spending his day with Ox and the other men. He was starting to feel like he belonged, but still felt a like a fish out of water. He and his coworkers were still just too different. Most of the guys, with the exception of Ox, called him “Pretty Boy”. Avery knew it was in a friendly teasing way, but it still bothered him.
At lunch, Avery and Bull sat down on a makeshift bench. Ox lit up a fresh cigarette and the smoke drifted into Avery’s face. By now, Avery was use to it as Ox seemed to smoke all the time.
Avery looked around and saw most of the men were smoking on their lunch break. The workers chatted and smoked, almost like their same habits almost united them. Like a shared connection.
“Umm…Ox? Mind if I try one of your cigarettes?”
“Sure, Bull,” Ox said as he tossed him his pack and lighter, “Tryin’ the fit in, eh?”
“You could say that,” Avery confirmed. He figured most of the guys seem to enjoy it, so he might as well give it a shot.
After watching Ox smoke for a month, Avery had an idea what to do. He slid a Marlboro Red out of the pack and placed it between his lips. He then flicked the lighter and brought the flame to the end. He took a drag and inhaled, deeper than he planned. To his surprise, though, he didn’t cough. He exhaled the smoke and saw Ox grin.
“Smokin’ like a pro,” Ox laughed, “You like it?”
“Yeah, actually it’s not bad,” Avery answered truthfully. It wasn’t what he expected. It was better.
The two men finished their smokes before heading back to work.
—
A few months passed and the construction work was now natural to Avery. He had bulked up with the hard labor and had grown out his beard. He felt like he was now one of the blue collar guys. Everyone stopped calling him “Pretty Boy”. He was now Bull.
Bull worked hard as he smoked throughout the day by Ox’s side. He enjoyed smoking; it felt manly. He kept with it to blend in and connect with Ox and the other workers, but it was now a necessity. He slipped into addiction and realized it when it was too late. He didn’t mind though.
He and Ox not only were coworkers who grabbed a beer after work, they had become good friends.
They were carrying some lumber when Ox spoke up, “So still looking for a new job?”
“No, stopped looking,” Bull said as he exhaled some smoke, “Enjoy the labor too much. Feels like home.”
“Atta man,” Ox grinned.
After work that day, Ox and Bull went to the nearby dive bar to get a few beers in and eat a grease filled dinner.
“Going to have to find a new place though,” Bull chimed in, “Rent is too high. Gotta downsize and downgrade, unfortunately.”
“Come live with me,” Ox suggested.
Bull laughed but Ox’s face said he was serious, “Oh shit, you for real?”
“Yeah man,” Ox confirmed, “Got my own house. It’ll be cheaper for ya. And less rules than that pretty boy apartment you got too.”
“I’ll think ‘bout it,” Bull said and it was left at that.
—
Another few months had passed and Bull was spending a lot of time with Ox. They became pretty close. Even on the weekends, they hung out. They chained smoked, drank many beers and ate unhealthy food. Bull gained a bit of a beer gut.
On a Sunday night, Bull was at Ox’s house. They ordered a couple of pizzas and watched a football game.
Bull loved spending time at Ox’s house. He was able to smoke inside and light up at anytime, unlike his apartment.
Later that evening when Bull got back home, he stood outside having a couple of smokes before heading in. It was time to cut ties to his old self.
He gave Ox a call, “Hey Ox, your offer about living with you still on the table?”
“Of course, Bull,” Ox said.
—
It had been over a year since Avery became Bull, the gruff construction worker. He loved his new life and couldn’t imagine going back to the corporate office.
Without even realizing it, Ox had quite the influence on Bull. Bull had buzzed his head and got a tattoo sleeve. He was planning on getting the other arm done soon.
He spent his days off hanging out with Ox, drinking beer and eating whatever he wanted. He had no worries in life. It was simple and freeing.
The two men would indulge in pleasures on their days off while watching tv in only tank tops and boxers.
Bull’s voice became deeper from all the smoking and extra weight; he had never felt manlier.
Most people had assumed Bull and Ox were brothers as they looked a lot alike.
One day on a construction site, the two men stood taking a break from their work.
“Remember when you said getting fired and working construction was the best thing that ever happened to ya?” Bull asked.
“I sure do,” Ox said.
“Well, I gotta say it was the best thing for me too,” Bull said.
ATM
For those who liked the post, here's a little extra.
I would knowingly buy the Ivan Ooze! Ivan Ooze is what got me into hypno in the first place
He picked it up. The material was thick, dense, and smelled faintly of fresh rubber and factory clean. He pulled it down over his head.
The fit was immediate and absolute. It sealed around his jawline and neck with a soft, pressurized hiss, locking into place.
With the mind switched off, the body took over completely. The helmet’s internal sensors synchronized with his nervous system, sending direct, optimized electrical impulses straight to his muscle groups.
His posture corrected instantly. . His chest swelled, drawing in massive, perfectly regulated breaths of cool, filtered air. The helmet primed his body.
He wasn’t a young buck trying to figure out life. He was now blissfully engaged and awaiting orders
Wot you waiting for Bro? I been sitting here for an age, waiting for you to get better mate. Thought you’d like a decent fix straight from the off, eh? Come on, sooner you gets. A huff like, sooner we can get you down JDs yeah?
I would take a huff
Cant get this 'Marlboro Country' video out of my head.
It's so good!
Some screenshots from the original video at it's source on the amazing website.
Or see it at YouTube Marlboro Country
Everything was very quiet now. Something inside him had changed. Inside his mind.
There was some order now, where before there had been chaos. The dots were stimulating his ... everything. He could feel them burning across his nerves and muscles, inside his body was a symphony of pain and pleasure, excitement and at the same time a new calm that came with ... purpose.
"I observe."
Not just a statement of fact, but a new calling. Observe the teachings of his recruiter.
"Observe", his recruiter insisted, and he echoed it.
"Absorb", his recruiter insisted, and he echoed it.
"I am ..." he started, but
"Convert", his recruiter insisted, and he echoed it.
Everything was now clear to him.
Convert.
His new purpose on this planet. He had been given a wonderful gift. As his recruiter vanished, as he was left alone, he felt no fear or anxiety. He felt his new purpose taking hold of him completely.
Convert.
(see, when veo f*s up the dialogue again, just re-write your story idea to make it fit ...)
Although an established member of the Marlboro Men's Club (MMC) where their uniform is leather, Karl retains his shiny puffa of the Marlboro Youth Club (MYC) for a specific reason. Kerl works at a local distribution company, but his sole interest is his work as Handler of his elite lads.
Karl is the senior administrator and overseer of the MYC, and he takes charge of the most talented and prolific young recruiters the MYC members who've been elevated as members of the elite group of Marlboro Demons. They function under Karl's authority and tutorship as he enhances their development and their harvest of new Marlboro smokers.
Through their private WhatsApp group, he inspires and strengthens their obsession to target non-smokers at their schools. The single goal being to instil heavy Marlboro addiction into their targets to be eventually led to their inevitable assimilation into the Corporation through the MYC.
Karl's work has a major impact on the overall numbers of young Marlboro converts.
The Pre-Initiation Preparation
Sean is an old hand of the Marlboro Men's Club (MMC). Formerly a long distance truck driver, but changed his job to only works short distance trips. He prefers to stay close to home these days so he can focus more on the work of the MMC and keep a firm control of the lads he handles. Sean is currently the Handler of 9 lads who are dedicated to Marlboro - zealot recruiters for the Marlboro Youth Club (MYC). All his lads have all been involved with the MYC for a few years, all highly advanced in their personal development and deeply indoctrinated in the Marlboro Cult. Sean has been Craig's Handler for 4 years, since Craig's initiation into the MYC when he finished school at 16. Craig would have been elevated to the MMC earlier, but his effective work with the young lads has been a great asset. He grew into a natural leader with an instinctive talent for mental and emotional manipulation, resulting in exceptionally quick results in the fetish training, addiction enhancement and obsessive devotion to Marlboro through the activities and rituals at the MYC weekly meetings.
There being numerous other advanced lads heavily involved in this work at the MYC, it's now time for Craig to move up to the MYC's ruling body… the Marlboro Men's Club (MMC). As Sean sat with Craig to discuss his elevation, there were things that Sean wanted to tell him.
"You're an intelligent lad, Craig. Your dedication to Marlboro and your talents will take you far in the Organisation. Before your initiation, I want you to understand the broader picture. The goals. The hierarchy. What it is you really belong to." "I know you understand what's important and priority, but you need to be fully aware and take on board what we are and where we fit into the scheme."
"Oh, I wanna know everything, Sir" Craig eagerly replied.
"Tell me, lad. What is the Marlboro Youth Club?"
Craig smirked as he pulled in a lungful of smoke. He waited a moment then replied. "If my old man knew anything about it, he'd say it's a nasty cesspit of perverted degeneracy and filth!" and he laughed.
His Handler kept a straight face and responded… "And what do you understand it to be?"
Craig's face took on a serious expression as he looked firmly into his Handler's eyes. "It's a f*ckin beautiful cauldron and conveyor belt for transforming lads into dedicated smokers devoted to Marlboro."
Sean's face remained serious as he stared back into Craig's eyes.
"Exactly right, my lad." "The MYC is fundamental an essential point of reception of lads from the population, commanded by the hierarchy to be established and run by every MMC Cell."
This was the first time Craig had heard any mention of a hierarchy above the MMC. He interest was sharpened. Sean saw it in his eyes, and continued.
"There are secret Marlboro Men's Club cells across the country… across every industrial country. We are part of a global organisation… a global 'faith' you could say."
Craig's eyes widened as the enormity of what he was hearing sank in. He felt the welling between his legs at the realisation that the Cult of Marlboro wasn't just here in his town, but that they were just a small outpost of a massive organisation. His Handler continued. "Each region is under a Regional Leader who has absolute authority over us. Our obedience to him is unconditional. He knows everything that goes on here… the recruitment figures, the personal info of every recruit, and receives a weekly report on progress."
Craig took a quick involuntary gasp, then pulled hard on the smoke as his hand reached down to adjust his pants.
"Wow. Fuck*n wow, Sir!"
Sean continued; his gaze still fixed.
"These are things you need to know before you are received tomorrow.. That jacket that you wear, as worn by all the young MYC members, isn't simply a fetishized uniform of belonging to the club and to Marlboro. It's the uniform that identifies you as property of the Organisation. It identifies you as merely a number that's been fed into their system. on what you correctly referred to as the 'conveyor belt'. Think of it as a factory process, and you are in the initial stages of a product being formed."
Craig let out a "Fuuck!! That's so fckin amazing, Sir!!"… as he reached for the next Red from his pack on the table.
"Isn't it!" replied Sean, as he saw the positive impact on Craig.
Sean continued to reveal the facts… "Our Leader reports to his superiors at the National Headquarters, and they are under the global Corporate Head Office. It's from the Head Office that the rituals and activities of both the Marlboro Men's Club and the Youth Club have come. Every MMC and MYC around the world practice and indulge the same routines and rituals, designed to mould and fully assimilate each addicted recruit The jacket isn't simply to provide young impressionable minds with a sense of belonging to the Youth Club, It is one part of the overall regime of harnessing and remoulding minds into exactly what the Corporation requires." Craig smirked as he inhaled - his gaze still fixed on his Handler.
"But you knew that, didn't you. You know exactly what your work at the MYC is about. You just didn't know about the bigger picture."
Craig's full acceptance of the reality had him excited. His own reprogramming as a dedicated disciple of Marlboro produced the expected response.
Craig spoke up… "So, the contract that each of us signed when we were initiated and received our jackets…. " Craig hadn't even contemplated the contract during his own initiation a few years ago.
"Oh, our Leader keeps a copy of each contract, and a copy is held in the files of the National Headquarters… The original that you signed is amongst the hundreds of thousands in the vaults of the Corporate Head Office."
Before all this was able to sink in properly, Sean moved on to prepare Craig for what was to come for him.
"Your elevation and initiation to the MMC next week is a major event for you. You should know what to anticipate." Craig's anticipation was electric, as Sean continued… "The small Marlboro shrine of the MYC which the lads face during the ritual of devotion as they smoke and… do what young lads do… is primary training you've been providing so well for them. It's such an important part of their mental and sexual formation for what lies ahead. When you enter the room with me next week for your initiation, everything will be familiar to you… but on a much greater scale. Up until now, it's only me who's been breeding you."
As Sean mentioned his intimate breeding sessions at Sean's appartment, Craig thought of how intense those ritual sex sessions have been, as they both smoked hard while facing his Handler's shrine to Marlboro while growling mantras of devotion. Craig always felt some other presence entered the room during these sex rituals. It was there that Sean had introduced Craig to poppers, ensuring Craig sank into deep gooning devotion as he faced the Marlboro shrine, pulled on a Red while he was pumped from behind.
"Next week at your elevation to the MMC, you'll receive your leathers, and each member will fill you during the ritual as you stand up against the Grand Altar of Marlboro and face the Marlboro icon above it." "You will then be prepared for next month's visit from our Regional Leader who will personally seed you to complete your assimilation for the Corporation.
Craig's face twisted in a mixture or disbelief and eagerness. His hand holding the Red was trembling. He was realising the enormity of his elevation.
Sean continued to reveal the final details of what's to come..
"Those carefully crafted rituals of the Youth Club prepare each recruit for this stage that you're about to embrace. You said that your old man would say that the Marlboro Youth Club is a nasty cesspit of perverted degeneracy and filth, if he knew about it…. Well, it's mere training and preparation for the next level, which you about to enter into."
Craig could hardly contain his heightened level of excitement and eagerness at his Handler's words.
The final revelations from Sean were revealed with an almost reverence.
"Most people think that Marlboro, the world's most successful and best known cigarette is nothing more than that. A cigarette brand… but you understand that Marlboro is so much more, in every possible way. It commands loyalty and dedication from millions across the world, without them even knowing why."
"The rituals that have become an essential part of you since you joined us - They channel and harness the essential essence of a lad into Marlboro's ownership. Where a Christian faces a crucifix, the disciples of Marlboro face the icon of Marlboro…. you understand?"
Craig's face was now expressionless as the reality he'd felt at each MYC meeting was now being stated out loud.
"Those occult rituals which the young lads find so horny during the pleasures of the Friday evening Youth Club meetings… It isn't just horny 'fun'. It isn't even just the moulding of a faith or religion. It is the initial stages of feeding and remoulding them into what we all become at our very essence. The powers and forces that we can never truly understand that come to us through the portal which is Marlboro… make us part of it. We are bonded and assimilated in Marlboro."
"The creed of the Corporation is simple… The salvation of the world and global harmony will only be achieved by Marlboro. The Final Solution will be achieved when every male is inhaling the essence of Marlboro, uniting together in one mind under the control of the Corporation. THIS goal of what we serve. This is why nothing is more important than our work in gathering all to Marlboro. We serve. We obey. We dedicate ourselves utterly to Marlboro… because Marlboro wants them all!"
Craig was ready. He held his head back in a rush of ecstasy as he reached out to his Handler's gloved hand. He now fully understood what his life was for.
Dan is one of the most successful administrators of his local Marlboro Youth Club (MYC) branch. He proudly gloats about the number of lads he's transformed into heavily addicted Marlboro smokers, all of which are now dedicated to Marlboro and the organisation.
He guides and instructs the lads he handles in their recruitment techniques. Dan is the one they come to when they're having difficulties getting one of their school-mates to take his first drag. A master of manipulation, Dan's instructions always ensure his lads achieve results.
