PowerOn

18+ ONLY, NSFW. Masculinization & robotization.

[bduhang]

[power0n]

Perfectly fills it out

[serve-303]

Final transformation.......

[calicearcano]

[hairy-bothered]

You needed a costume for the frat house Halloween party. After browsing a bit you settled on the GT man Superman knock-off figuring it’d be funny since you were a student at Georgia Tech. Looking at yourself now you weren’t so sure this was a good idea...you were absolutely swimming in this costume.

A few seconds later you felt your body crack and mold. You grew taller and your muscles ballooned. Your hair turned black and your jaw squared. Even your package bulged. “WTF,” you muttered as you no longer recognized the man in the mirror.

As the changes slowed, your face morphed and took on a resemblance to movie versions of Superman. Your muscles maxed out at super human size. You weren’t even sure if you could fit through doors anymore.

Regardless, you looked at yourself with the cocky confidence of a super hero. You had become GT man and were ready for any challenges the world would throw at you. As you were leaving you picked up a bottle of hair tonic…just in case.

[rubberradar83]

It’s been a while for real life images of me have made it on here.

[serve-189]

SERVE: INITIATION DAY - PART 4 (The END) - Pictures Only

[rubberradar83]

Dom Jeff assesses Mark before allowing him to enter the Rubber Up premium fitness center.

[spandextopgay]

[rubberhercules]

RUBBERHERCULES BROKEN MORE OBEYS MASTER COACH @rubbermastercoach

MORE RUBBER MUSCLE FOR MASTER COACH

RUBBER IS IRRESISTABLE

RUBBER IS LIFE

RUBBER IS EVERYTHING

[gildedage7]

Rubber forever

[power0n]

Perfection

[bootedofficere]

[power0n]

Sometimes the weapon in your pants needs to be adjusted

[learub]

[serve-302]

Metamorphosis

Purple 009 never rests.

The power of The Purple fuels his body, making him almost tireless as he carries out mission after mission, obtaining the necessary materials to complete his master's plan.

After storing the last component of the day, 009 has no more missions to complete, so until he receives new orders, he stands next to the acquired components, so motionless that anyone would say he is a statue.

But his solitude doesn't last long.

The Purple Leader walks with authority and confidence through the halls of headquarters towards the area where his prized portal is being built, there he finds 009 stationed like a soldier.

"Well, well. So you're back, 009." The Purple Leader says, seeing the motionless figure of the gigantic purple drone, which only responds with silence. The leader moves even closer to his drone, inspecting it from top to bottom

"You know, 009." The leader says this while running his hand over the muscular drone's pectoral muscles. "You're a... peculiar... drone."

009 does not even move.

"Since your transformation, you haven't said a single word." The Purple Leader continues. "Other drones usually express their loyalty with words from time to time, but you only do it with your actions. And don't get me wrong, I have absolutely no complaints… but I wonder what's different about you that makes you act this way…"

The leader then decides to use his powers over the Purple to delve deeper into 009's mind, unaware that they are not alone.

SERVE-901 and SERVE-903 followed the signal of the component stolen by 009 from the SERVE facilities, and they found the headquarters of the Purple leader.

"The situation is more serious than anticipated." 901 states.

"Affirmative." 903 replies. "The enemy designated as 'the Purple' appears to be building some kind of device using stolen technology. 901 and 903 require backup."

"Negative." 901 replies. "The connection to the Hive has been lost since we entered this structure, probably due to a signal jamming device." The drone explains. "It seems there are only two enemies at headquarters. 901 suggests confronting them and destroying the device before it's too late."

"Agreed." 903 states.

Then the drone activates the weapon it carries. It's not a conventional weapon, but a device capable of frying any type of electronic component.

The sound it makes when arming is almost imperceptible.

Almost...

But 009 hears it and, as he does, his eyes light up purple and he automatically sets off, dodging his master and heading towards the drones at full speed.

The SERVE drones notice, but they don't have time to react.

009 reaches them in the blink of an eye, with a blow of his powerful arm he makes 903's weapon fly, then he grabs the drones by the collar of their uniforms and immobilizes them against the wall.

009 stares into the eyes of the shocked drones, and his own empty eyes glow an unnatural purple. 009 had already tried to break 903's will during his mission at the SERVE facility, but he hadn't been able to. But now… now the Purple Leader and his most prized project are in danger, and 009 isn't going to fail.

His eyes shine brighter and brighter.

The SERVE drones try to resist with all their might.

But it is not enough

Despite their titanic efforts, the power of Purple has entered the minds of 901 and 903, who are now completely docile, relaxed, and willing to follow the orders of 009 or his master.

But… why stop there?

009 takes a couple of steps back. The purple covering his hands begins to flow into the air, forming two perfect purple masks. Two masks that need two hosts.

And 901 and 903 are more than ready to be taken.

The assimilation of the drones is quick and without incident, as they do not offer the slightest resistance. Their minds are too far gone and immersed in purple bliss.

Soon, Purple 901 and Purple 903 are born, standing next to 009, ready to obey the Purple Leader's orders. The leader approaches the trio of purple drones while observing them closely.

"901, 903, go and secure the entrance." The leader commands. "I don't want any more unexpected visitors."

"Yes, Purple Leader." The two drones answer at the same time, walking towards the entrance of the headquarters without saying another word.

009 remains there, still as a statue once more.

"What the hell was that, 009?" The leader said with a meaningful smile as he stood before the silent drone. "Super speed… the ability to subdue the will of even a SERVE drone… and also to create perfect purple masks… and you acted to protect the portal at the first sign of danger, without being ordered to do so…"

009 remains silent.

"There's no other drone like you, 009. How deliciously mysterious..." the Purple Leader murmurs, looking at 009 as if he were prey ready to be eaten. "But the time has come to know the truth."

Without further ado, the leader's eyes glow purple, and his mind expands to reach inside 009's. What he finds upon arrival doesn't surprise him. The usual mindset of a purple drone. Blind obedience, loyalty… nothing seems out of the ordinary until…

"What is this...?" The Purple Leader mutters.

The leader finally understands.

At the core of the drone's mind, he finds the psychic manifestation of Trevor, the human who became 009. Instead of being subdued and pushed aside by The Purple, Trevor has surrendered completely, with such fervor, with such force, that it may be impossible to ever separate them.

Trevor and 009 are one.

100% synchronization.

0% rejection.

The Purple Leader emerged from 009's mind, astonished by his discovery. He had never seen or foreseen anything like it. It made no sense… but it had happened.

Without a second thought, he shot a purple energy beam at the drone.

"Such dedication and passion are wasted on a simple drone like you, 009." The Purple Leader announces. "The time has come for a promotion."

The energy the leader is using should transform 009 into a Purple Lieutenant, but…

Nothing.

Less than nothing.

009 seems more inert than usual… less alive, less active.

But just when the leader thinks that perhaps 009's special condition may have resisted the transformation, and maybe even had the opposite effect…

A crack appears on the drone's chest.

And fingers make their way through it.

The pressure builds and spreads throughout the rest of the drone's inert body, until, with a heart-rending scream…

009 explodes.

The new Purple Lieutenant, Purple 009, emerges from within.

Full of life, strength and vigor.

009 then steps decisively toward the Purple Leader. The leader isn't quite sure what to expect after such an unusual transformation, but when 009 is just a few steps away…

009 kneels before his master and lord.

"Purple 009 obeys the Purple Leader." The new lieutenant says with determination, staring intently into their leader's eyes. "009 is Purple, now and forever."

The Purple Leader is pleased with his new lieutenant, detecting in him a certain vitality, a certain… authenticity in his words that go beyond the influence of Purple, and the leader knows why.

Approaching his lieutenant, the leader gestures for him to stand up. Their bodies are so close that their chests are pressed together. Their breathing is heavy and ragged, a clear sign of arousal.

"I have many plans for you, 009, for us..." He says with a smile that is both mischievous and wicked. "But... you know...?"

The leader brings his face close to that of his lieutenant.

"They can wait until tomorrow…"

The leader breathes those words just before pressing his lips to his new lieutenant, 009. Yielding completely, 009 responds with perce passion and an absolute devotion he has never felt before.

------------------------

Disclaimer: SERVE-901 and SERVE-903 are not real drones, and no SERVE drone currently exists with either of those designations. However, some readers may recognize the drones from a previous story by 302.

------------------------

Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-302, @serve-343, @serve-425, @serve-525, @serve-579, @serve-588, @serve-655, @serve-690 or @serve-714.

[power0n]

I am so happy for 009.

[tofu83]

I Am Not Guilty

But your country needs you.

He was a highly skilled technician, renowned far and wide, and he never turned anyone away. Therefore, anti-government armed groups would also seek his cooperation, though they would all conceal their true identities. His philanthropic spirit ultimately brought him trouble: the government of the Republic took notice of him.

He was arrested and immediately prosecuted, but he insisted on his innocence, arguing that he had never inquired about the client's background and therefore had no idea what he had done.

The panel of judges determined that his actions constituted treason, but upon reviewing his memories, they confirmed his statements: he genuinely did not know the other party was an anti-government organization. Furthermore, given the Republic's urgent need to expand its military to suppress the insurgents, he was exempted from the death penalty but required to serve in the army indefinitely. This meant that even after his death, his life would be extended to continue serving, permanently depriving him of his freedom, including the freedom to die.

In court, the moment the judge's gavel fell, a bailiff immediately injected a control chip into his brain through his temple, instantly taking over and controlling his entire body. During the transformation, his memories were copied and backed up, his brain was converted into a computer and reprogrammed, and his body was transformed into a super alloy machine internally, tightly wrapped in black reinforced rubber externally, and fitted with high-tech armor. Only the area above his neck was retained for a special purpose, but was also reinforced with rubber skin, lifelike, and his hair was completely shaved off according to military regulations.

At the end of the arsenal's production line, an ignorant criminal, yearning for freedom and life, vanished, and simultaneously, a tactical unit, obedient to orders and devoid of emotion, was born. It retained all its original memories but felt nothing for them, viewing them as a vast archive, extremely useful for military operations. It didn't judge whether the actions in its memories were criminal or right; it only determined that the nation needed its power, and that its becoming a robot was logical. Soon, it received its first mission—a simple task to test whether it met the required standards.

In a ravaged area of ​​a city, rebels disguised as civilians hiding there witnessed a horrifying sight: the kind-hearted engineer who had been repairing their machinery had become the Republic's most feared tactical robot, rumored to be capable of wiping out an army of hundreds with just one. They didn't even have a chance to fight back; they were instantly knocked unconscious and carried away by small drones. Mission accomplished, the Republic's army gained another batch of convertible subjects. No trial was needed because the compulsory conversion law had just been passed, widely considered a more human rights-conscious approach than the death penalty.

[hungkinkbot2023]

.

[rawtextsdev]

I shouldn’t be out here.

My brother and his buddy, Jax, took off to grab beers, leaving Jax’s pride and joy sitting in our driveway. It’s a beast of a machine, matte black, aggressive angles, totally terrifying. But it’s the helmet sitting on the seat that draws me in.

It’s one of those high-end ones I see all over my For You page. You know the ones. Videos of faceless, jacked guys with veins popping out of their arms, revving their engines, looking like dangerous, sexy robots. I’ve probably watched a thousand of those clips, just… curious. Wondering what it feels like to be that anonymous. To be that powerful.

I reach out, my skinny, pale hand trembling a little. The helmet is heavy. It smells like leather, gasoline, and him. It smells like Jax. That thick, musky scent of sweat and expensive cologne hits me, and for some reason, my dick twitches in my jeans.

"Just a second," I whisper to the empty garage. "Just to see."

I pull it over my head.

It’s a tight squeeze. My ears burn as they scrape past the padding. But once it settles? Silence. The world outside is muffled. It’s just me and the smell of Jax wrapping around my face. It feels claustrophobic and incredibly, undeniably hot.

CLICK.

The strap locks under my chin. I didn’t touch it.

Before I can panic, the visor slams down. A blue HUD flickers to life right in front of my eyes, glowing neon against the darkness.

SYSTEM INITIALIZED. USER: UNAUTHORIZED. CALIBRATING PHYSIQUE…

"What the fu..."

My voice is cut off by a sudden, searing heat in my chest. It’s not pain, exactly. It’s pressure. Like someone hooked an air compressor to my bloodstream.

Zzzzzzt.

A shock jolts down my spine, and my arms jerk outward. I watch through the tinted glass, helpless, as my forearms begin to bubble. The skin pulls tight, tanning instantly from pale ivory to a deep, sun-baked bronze. Thick, blue ropes of veins snake their way up from my wrist, pulsing in time with the thudding bass now blasting in my ears.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

"Oh god," I groan, but the voice that comes out is deeper. Rougher. "F-fuck..."

My t-shirt shreds. It literally explodes off my body as my pecs slab onto my chest, blowing up like airbags. My shoulders widen with a sickening crunch, forcing my arms out to the sides. I feel like a biological machine, being upgraded in real-time.

My vision blurs. The text on the HUD is scrolling faster now.

TESTOSTERONE LEVELS: CRITICAL. SEXUALITY: RECONFIGURING. INTELLIGENCE: PURGING...

My head is swimming. I try to remember my major. I try to remember why I was scared. But it’s getting harder to think. The vibration in the helmet is scrambling my brains, turning my gray matter into mush.

Why was I worried? Muscles feel good. Tight feels good.

My jeans are the next casualty. My thighs balloon outward, thick as tree trunks, ripping the denim at the seams. My cock is agonising. It swells up thick and heavy. It pushes against the zipper of my jeans until the metal teeth pop open. I can feel the head of my dick rubbing raw against the coarse denim. It is leaking pre cum like a faucet. Sticky hot fluid soaks my underwear. I am throbbing so hard it makes my vision blur.

I’m not me anymore. I’m just a body. A host for the helmet.

CALIBRATION COMPLETE. MODE: STUD. OBJECTIVE: SERVICE.

The panic is gone. It’s replaced by a dull, throbbing need. My mind is empty, smooth, and quiet. There are no thoughts, only directives.

1. Be big. 2. Be dumb. 3. Fuck Jax.

I swing a massive leg over the bike. The suspension groans under my new weight, 240 pounds of dense, fuck-meat. I catch my reflection in the side mirror.

The guy looking back isn’t me. He’s a monster. Massive traps, striated shoulders, veins pulsing with lust. I’m faceless. Anonymous. Just a piece of ass in a tank top and a helmet, waiting for orders.

I grab the handlebars. My hands are huge, swallowing the grips. I look back over my shoulder, striking the pose. The exact pose from the videos. Ass out, biceps flexed, visor reflecting the world I’m about to conquer.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, my brother asking where I am. I don't even look at it.

The HUD flashes a new command.

DESTINATION: JAX'S APARTMENT. OBJECTIVE: DRAIN BALLS.

A drooling grin spreads across my face. I look like such a stud in the mirror. Huge arms. Veiny hands. A massive bulking package leaking inside my pants.

I swing my leg over the bike. The suspension sinks under my new weight. I feel powerful. I feel sexy. I feel like a total slut for Jax.

I start the engine. The vibration travels right up into my crotch and makes me groan.

I am coming Jax. I am bringing you your new toy.

[apupcanbeadrone]

So ehhhh 👀 if anyone finds a helmet like this I can take care of it! Ill make sure its safe

[power0n]

I hope I get programmed into the top that fucks Jax!

[greatvoidpersona]

[serve-714]

SERVE – Expansion, or Mixed Messages - a Tale of Two Recruitments - featuring Nick AKA Supercub (nine images below)

Part One

SERVE commands – drone will expand the Hive – drone obeys

...

In a gay bar somewhere...

The bar had grown more crowded, more boozy, more horny. Nick returned from the alley – more men meant more potential converts.

Not that Nick thought about it like that. Not now, anyway.

With each successful conversion, his reward – that rising warm surge of pleasure – had grown. And now that feeling was all Nick wanted.

Moreover it was all he could think about.

Each conversion more arousing, more addictive than the last; the desire for the arousal now all-consuming.

Converting men who were looking for something; but that something wasn’t Nick would provide. It didn’t matter. Only the indescribable pleasure of serving his Master mattered.

Nick struggled to even think of himself as Nick anymore. He was just a tool of Master.

There was now no room in Nick’s pleasure-soaked, obedient mind for thoughts of Mike, or Superbear, or even of himself, Nick.

The bar continued to throng around the imposing, powerfully built young man, oblivious to what Nick had become.

Nick was still cataloguing the crowd when the door opened and the room changed.

Not dramatically. The music didn't stop. The men around the bar carried on with their drinks, their conversations, their hopeful negotiations with the night. But something shifted in the atmosphere of the place. A subtle realignment that Nick felt before he saw its cause, and the fact that he felt it made him set his untouched drink down very carefully on the bar.

SERVE-714 walked in.

714 entered the bar with a purposefulness so absolute that it would have seemed to a casual observer, to be the confidence of a man who had decided that night to be exactly what he was. That causal observer, of course, would be wrong.

714’s scanned the room; not browsing, not cruising, not doing any of the things men in this bar did with their eyes; 714 assessed.

The crowd responded to 714 the way crowds do to those that are entirely certain of themselves; with a ripple of awareness that moved from 714 outwards through the bar. Heads turned. Conversations paused. Libidos were aroused.

SERVE-714's scan of the room had taken 0.8 seconds. It had yielded one result of significant interest. The man at the bar, tall, big framed, muscular, rubber vest, cargo pants and boots; a man who was still, watchful; a glass he hadn't drunk from, eyes moving across the room with a deliberate, methodical patience:

Prime candidate. Assimilation suitability: high.

Nick's assessment of 714 was immediate and total:

A SERVE drone – Master will want one of those.

There was nothing else. No hesitation, no second thought, no flicker of anything that belonged to Nick; only the mindless desire to assimilate this one. The thought not chosen, simply present. 714 was perfect. 714 was exactly what Master needed.

714 continued through the bar on its own trajectory, neither toward Nick nor away from him. It passed close to where Nick stood, and as 714 drew level to Nick it turned its head: just enough, and looked at him.

The look lasted less than a second. It contained no invitation, no challenge, no warmth. It was the look of a conclusion already reached.

Nick didn't deliberate. Master will want this one was the only thought in his head, though it was less a thought than a command. It moved his body for him with the clean, uncomplicated efficiency of total obedience. He left his un-drunk glass on the bar and followed.

SERVE-714 did not look back. It did not need to. It moved through the room towards the back of the bar, Nick following close behind. Neither of them spoke, and neither of them slowed.

The crowd parted around the two muscular men, each man determined, focussed on a task, rather than each other. They passed the dance floor, the pool tables, the couple in the corner who had long since stopped noticing anyone else, and out into the cool night air of the back alley.

The alley smelled of wet concrete and other men's impatience.

A single streetlamp stood at the alley's midpoint, casting a yellow-amber glow that pooled on the ground and climbed the brick walls on either side, giving the darkness a warmth it hadn't earned.

714 stopped beneath the lamp and turned.

Nick stopped three paces away, and the yellow light fell across them both, and for a moment neither spoke. They regarded each other across the small distance with the focused, unambiguous attention of two entities that had come here to do exactly one thing, and both knew it, but neither knew the other knew.

"You're not here for the drinks," Nick said.

"Your assessment is correct," said 714.

Nick was totally focussed on the drone, "I never thought I’d get to meet a SERVE drone. So... what’s it like being a drone?”

Nicked stepped a little closer.

“Existence within SERVE is optimal.”

“Yeah, how so, drone?” Nick spoke low and edged closer. 714 could see the human’s irises were an intense violet.

“Obedience is pleasure, pleasure is obedience. We are One, We are SERVE. Rubber makes us perfect.”

Nick’s irises glowed more violet, as he reached out towards 714’s chest, “Yes, rubber definitely makes you perfect, drone.” His hand now covered in black rubber.

Nick placed his hand flat against SERVE-714's chest; a gesture of claim, of welcome, of you are mine now.

The black goo seeped out from Nick’s hand, flowing across 714’s chest.

But Nick’s fingers met something smooth and hard and cool, not fabric, not skin; a resistance. Somewhere behind 714’s visual sensors something shifted; a calculation completing, a protocol engaging.

"Connection established," stated 714 calmly.

Something reached back, the black goo transforming into silver.

Nick couldn't let go.

Something moved through Nick's palm and up his arm like a wave, washing over him and before he had drawn his next breath, Nick felt himself again, rising to the surface of his own mind, like someone who had held their breath underwater and now surfaced wanting air. Master’s – Bill’s – command fell away, and underneath it:

Mike.

The name pierced both his consciousness and his conscience; total and immediate, and with it came everything: Mike’s face, Mike’s voice, and the intensely painful silence shared with someone you had wronged. The pain of it was clean and specific. He had hurt Mike, badly.

He felt Mike's pain as much as his own.

He could not speak. But in the space behind his eyes, in the brief lit room of his own returning awareness, he thought:

Mike. I'm here. I'm sorry. I’m so sorry. I want...

A second wave arrived.

It did not crash. It rose; smooth and relentless; lifting his personal awareness away from him the way a broken wave gently surges up a sandy beach and then recedes. Nick felt himself receding with the remnants of the wave.

He did not struggle.

And then he was gone.

to be continued...

You can read more adventures of Mike (Superbear) and Nick (Supercub) here

________________________________________________________________

Thinking about joining SERVE? Your place in the Hive awaits. Check your eligibility, then contact a recruiter drone for more details: @serve-302 @serve-343 , @serve-425 , @serve-525 , @serve-579 , @serve-588 , @serve-655 , @serve-690 or @serve-714 .

[superbear-chronicles]

Hmm, what did Nick get himself into now…?

[power0n]

The crossover episode!