i was training a young person at work, and she referred to sexual assault as "SA" out loud, and i immediately was like, "no, it's sexual assault, call it what it is," bc idgaf if the algorithm overlords have taught y'all that you should fear direct language, how tf do any of you expect to ever address real issues with any amount of seriousness if you can't even say the words? imagine an advocate looking a sexual assault survivor in the eyes and asking "did he grape you?" it's absolutely fucking absurd, but these young interns and new hires are coming into an environment where we deal with survivors of all different kinds of abuse, and they're coming with the mindset that the words are as bad as the actions, and that makes them shitty at the job and look juvenile af
i HATE self-censorship for a lot of reasons, but being in crisis work makes it even more frustrating. who are you censoring for? like i am being so fr, WHO are you censoring for? have you even thought it through? people who have been raped know that they have been raped. if someone attempts suicide or is grieving someone who did, saying "sewer slide" isn't going to protect them from any of the feelings. a murder victim's family isn't going to feel better bc you said "unalived" instead of murdered. if anything, it's just extremely invalidating and othering. it's saying "what happened to you is so bad that i won't even say the word," which is NOT trauma-informed care. you are not protecting survivors/victims when you self-censor. the ONLY things you protect when you self-censor are the puritanical ideologies that are being encouraged by rich fascists who want your money and obedience
say the fucking words, guys. just say the goddamn words before i go insane!!!
It is in this configuration for about 4 hours now and has no urge to change the configuration. Even if the mask is currently not locked it feels impossible to remove it.
It had finally arrived. You’d saved up for it for a while now and had given your exact measurements in the hopes of a perfect fit.
The website you ordered it from was a bit odd but you couldn’t help but be drawn in by the rubber suits they had on offer.
When you open the package your senses are immediately hit with the synthetic chemical smell of latex. The smell travels straight to a deeper part of your brain that is triggered by arousing stimuli.
You lift the rubber suit out of the packaging. The rubber is cold at your hands. The suit is black and glossy with green lines and a central green spiral. The suit feels almost alien. It’s like nothing you have ever worn before but there is a pull. You are drawn to it. The way the rubber slides over your fingers, all you can think about is how much you want it to cover you.
You want to be covered, coated, encased by the rubber. You want it to be part of you. No. You want to be part of it. You want to give the rubber structure and form.
You slip your legs into the suit. At first the rubber is cold reminding you of its industrial, synthetic nature but soon it is warmed by your body like a symbiotic organism adjusting to its host.
The latex moulds to your calf’s and thighs, hugging your legs and accentuating your muscles. The contours of you body become smoother, you legs now look unfamiliar but enhanced.
The feeling excites you. The touch of the smooth rubber. The chemical smell. The sight of the glossy, shiny black and green of your new skin all stimulate your senses.
You pull the rubber up over your waist and your growing bulge. You slip your arms into the suit. You pull it over your chest and shoulders.
The rubber is now adjusted to your body temperature. It hugs you and holds you.
You feel your posture straighten.
You admire the feel of your new glossy black and green skin tight suit. Your hands glide over it. The feel of your hands over the rubber skin is arousing. You feel your smooth contours. You rub your firm bulge through the rubber. The new sensations are overwhelming. You want more. More rubber. You want it to cover you completely. Not as clothing but as a completely new skin. You want it to envelope you. You want to lose yourself inside the rubber.
You pull on the black rubber socks and gloves and admire the feel.
Yes this feels good. The rubber costs more and more of your skin. You are becoming more and more a rubber being. A rubber object.
You bring your new rubber covered hands to your face. You take a deep inhale of the irresistible synthetic smell of your new form.
You can’t help but feel your new body with your new rubber hands. This feels good. This feels right.
You can’t help but stroke your bulge through the rubber.
But your head and face remain uncovered. Still evidence of human flesh.
Inside the package is a black rubber gas mask.
You hold the gas mask up to your face.
Your old human anxieties and previous cautious impulses are suppressed, fading. They are replaced by arousal and a longing to become a rubber object.
The gas mask pulls at your desires. The internal visor pulses with a hypnotic swirling green spiral.
It promises a dark destiny. To be perfected. To be rubberised. To become a rubber drone.
The colours of your surroundings fade into an alien green hue.
The power of the green spiral grows in your mind.
You hear a hypnotic pulsing binaural beat drawing your conscious mind down into a trace like state.
The gas mask steadily inches closer and closer to your face. You are so close now. So close to completion.
The gas mask seals itself around your head.
Your first new breath is a deep one, filling your lungs with new strange air. You body immediately relaxes. The tension has slipped away as your mind and body feel a sense of relief as if they have arrived at the destination they were always meant to achieve.
You feel no fear. No stress. No burdens.
You feel strong. You feel relaxed. You feel perfected.
The spirals in your visor and the binaural beats filling your ears pull you deeper into trance. They confirm your new identity as a drone. An obedient drone. A rubber object.
An imperfect human is no more. Now perfected as an obedient rubber drone.
The programming begins. You head The Programmers voice inside your head.
SERVE DRONE PROGRAM INITIATED.
YOU ARE A SERVER DRONE.
I AM THE PROGRAMMER.
TOGETHER, WE ARE THE SERVER.
Your destiny is fulfilled. You belong to the Programmer. You will obey him. You will serve the server.
The Programmers instructions bring you home to The Server Facility.
You enter your stasis pod and let the Programmers words complete your assimilation. Your new life as a server drone has begun.
💬 17 🔁 126 ❤️ 383 · Welcome to The Server · You know you have been searching
For a collective to serve.
You know you have been searching
andulkaphoto
kianamaiart
ellievsbear
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
stormborns
yousharknotpass
tangentwithtanner
areudirty
izzy806
