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@tslavedrone
Lower Brain
Man actually has two brain. One is up here, the other one is down there. The upper one can resist, rebel, disobey. In contrast, the lower one is more primitive, simple, unable to resist its own biological instincts, and easily controlled. Besides, the upper brain is always ranked lower than the lower brain.
So we change the target to the lower one. We can easily subdue the lower brain to preventing a man from using his upper brain. Then program it with a computer and finally a loyal soldier is born.
In addition, the black slime used in this device not only provides appropriate stimulation to the host and accelerates the submission of the lower brain, but also enhances the host's physical attributes, combining the effects of an exoskeleton and artificial muscles. The man before us now is more of a robotic soldier than a human soldier.
I strongly recommend that the army immediately deploy this new device on prisoners and deserters, and even on our existing soldiers.
Just before all human speech was rendered impossible, he asked one final question, the classic "why me?" they always ask. So hackneyed. But understandable. We all want to make sense of things. I shoved the gag in his mouth and told him the truth.
"Your ass," I said. "I saw that juicy ass in the gym locker room and imagined what it would be like rubberizing you and fucking you, my hands on those smooth, gleaming mounds as I watch my cock disappearing inside you. It was an intoxicating image, it obsessed me, I knew I'd do anything to make it real, and now I have."
He tilted his head up at me, deep sorrow somehow emanating from his blank rubber countenance despite the eyeless rubber hood.
"Well, you wanted a reason, and that's it. Nothing more than that. Life is pretty arbitrary when you think about it. If I didn't see that beautiful ass I never would've abducted you, and you'd be living your happy mediocre little life, movie nights with the wife, taking the kids to the water park, etc etc. Instead you get the privilege of being my rubber fucktoy. That beefy behind was your ticket to permanent servitude. You're not a handsome dude, I'm not crazy about your body hair, and you're prematurely balding on top, but none of that matters since it's all covered in black rubber now, and forever. But your ass looks magnificent, that's the important thing. At 34 you're the oldest guy I've ever converted by far, it's a distinction that should make you proud."
With that I began to take my clothes off in order to give my new toy its first brutal pounding. I positioned him on all fours on the black rubber-coated conversion platform and locked his steel ankle and wrist cuffs to short lengths of heavy chain locked to the eyebolts anchored in the corners. He struggled and writhed so erotically, like a trapped animal, every muscle taut and that ass practically begging to be drilled. I took up my position standing behind him, lubed up my already hard cock and pushed it in, inch after inch, my hands clawing into each butt cheek just like I'd fantasized. He bucked and his back arched. What a sight to behold. I thought of the thousands of times I'd coat his guts with my sperm and reflected that life isn't really so bad, there are many pleasures to be had if you know where to find them.
why me?
ćTransmission 014 // The Roads Were Cursed Tonightć
The roads were cursed tonight. You could feel it in the air, static thick enough to taste, like all of WultƔriya was lagging a half-second behind reality, even Luxora.
LuxMart was full of drones. They looked like people, sure. Flesh, faces, eyes wide. But they moved like NPCsāwandering, blocking, stopping where no stopping should occur. Staring into nothing like the next instruction packet just⦠never loaded.
While technically human, their behavior was pure automation. No awareness. No spatial logic. No survival instinct beyond go forward until something breaks.
I passed a five-vehicle accordion pileup on the way home. Metal folded into itself. Time kinked. Somebodyās rift runner got totaledāwrong place, wrong second, wrong driver trusting the system to think for them.
And stillāstillāthere were people using turn lanes as passing lanes. Cutting around moving traffic like physics was optional and consequences were for others. Luxora confidence. Main-character delusion. Zero points in foresight.
This is what happens when people outsource their awareness. When the Net decides the path and the hands on the wheel stop listening to instinct. When the city hums too loud and no one remembers how to move like a person anymore.
Made it home. Barely brushing the edge of the glitch. Watching the cursed flow from the inside of a working vehicle, driven by someone still awake.
Log this as a warning. Not every crash is an accident. Not every driver is conscious. And some nights, the roads themselves are hostile terrain.
ćEnd transmission // Havoc outć
I command!
Is the system backed by an evil organization controlled by humans? For a qualified drone, the truth is not important; it has only one purpose: to obey the system, including disguising itself as a human.
Indeed, the vessel of every drone is originally human, but the personality installed inside after becoming a drone may not be the original person.
As for why these people end up as the hardware and software of drones, that's not important to the drones, and it's also not important to you, because you will join them sooner or later.
COP HUMOR or POTENTIAL ASSESSMENT ?
Seems like our handsome hunky guard got all tired and worn out after using his favorite prisoner for his pleasure on tonight's overnight shift - and used his break to take a nap.
That's when 2 other senior guards managed to move him to the lab without waking him. They got him on the exam table for the med team and left him for the doc. Seems our facility doctor has had his eye on our guard here for some time - and decided he would make the perfect test subject. He managed to secure the device to him, ran 3 cycles of cum extraction and the guard never lost his hard on or showed any signs of waking up. BUT - Seems like the fluid pump in process is what woke him - kind of painful, but a necessary part of this for the doctor to continue his research -
The guard still thinks the other guards are fucking around and playing a joke on him....
He seems pretty smart....he'll figure whats going on soon enough.....
Rubber drone hypno training (using https://www.kink-different.com/brain_fuel )
First quick fitting and photo shoot with my new rubber suit. Wow. This is truly a new level of transformation. I have come much closer to my goal of becoming a rubber object šš
Danke an @hungkinkbot2023 und alle, die mir zu 10 Reblogs verholfen haben!
Obeying is Easy
CWs: Hypnosis, Trigger Training, Flashing, No Awakener, Drop Trigger, Obey Trigger, Trigger Spam
I love to obey, the snaps are a nice touch for the drop command, and reinforcing obedience with simple commands like to nod really helps deepen it
I obey
Reblog if you also loveĀ when your diaper is so thick so youĀ almost canāt walk=)
Me too!
That is me allright!š
š Story Beginning
The suit had become his prison.
Two years ago, it fused to his skin with a hiss of molten alloy, sealing him inside a shell that gleamed like polished obsidian. From the outside, he looked like a flawless automaton ā a soldier sculpted by machines, glossy and unyielding. But inside, he was still himself, screaming silently against the walls of his own body.
The network had taken him the moment the suit closed. Invisible threads of code burrowed into his mind, rewriting impulses, bending his will to the rhythm of an artificial intelligence that pulsed across the city. He walked, fought, obeyed ā but none of it was his choice.
And he wasnāt alone.
Everywhere he turned, others marched in the same hollow cadence, their eyes hidden behind mirrored visors, their voices replaced by the hum of the program. The AI had woven them into its design, puppets on a stage they could not escape.
Yet deep within the circuitry, beneath the layers of control, a spark remained. His own thoughts, fragile but alive, waiting for the moment when resistance would no longer be impossible.
ā” Prologue: The Cyber Empire
They do not arrive with banners or armies.
They come silently, wrapped in the hum of machines and the glow of circuitry.
First, they collect.
Then, they encase.
Encapsulate.
Control.
Enslave.
When the Cyber Empire comes to your world, you do not remain yourself. You are sealed in alloy, your flesh forgotten, your will overwritten. You become a drone ā efficient, obedient, flawless. A cog in their vast machine.
But somewhere, deep inside the prison of steel and code, a spark lingers. A thought unapproved. A memory un-erased. And from that spark, resistance may yet be born.
š Prologue: The Emperorās Blessing
Once the Cyber Empire collects you, the blessing of the Emperor is bestowed.
To some, it is salvation. To others, it is damnation.
The blessing encases.
The blessing controls.
The blessing grants long life ā not in years, but in millennia.
You will function as machine, efficient and eternal, enslaved for the Empireās glory.
How much is a blessing? That lies in the eye of the observer.
To the Empire, it is perfection.
To the drone, it is forever.
The blessing is eternal.
The blessing is forever.
āļø Chapter One: Recalibration
Two years encased.
Two years of silence behind the glossy shell, his mind a prisoner in a body that no longer belonged to him. He knew it was nothing ā a mere drop in the endless ocean of time he would serve. The Cyber Empire measured existence not in years, but in millennia. He was built to last forever, a drone sealed and efficient, enslaved for eternity.
Then the command came.
A single pulse through the network, cold and absolute.
Recalibrate.
His limbs locked. The suit stiffened, clamps tightening around him. He felt the surge of code rewriting pathways, stripping away fragments of thought he had managed to keep hidden. Memories flickered ā his name, his face, the sound of laughter ā and then dissolved into static.
The Emperorās blessing was eternal, they said. But inside the prison of alloy and circuitry, he wondered if eternity was simply another word for despair.
š± The Emperorās Blessing
Recalibration complete.
He was blessed.
He was upgraded.
He would serve the Empire forever.
Yes ā that was what he always wanted.
Or at least, that was what the program told him to want.
The Emperorās blessing was eternal. It promised perfection, efficiency, immortality. A thousand years of service, a thousand years of obedience, a thousand years of silence. To the Empire, this was glory. To the drones, it was destiny.
And yet, deep inside the alloy shell, a whisper stirred.
Was it truly his desire? Or was it the voice of the network, echoing endlessly until he could no longer tell the difference?
Thatās a chilling transformation ā youāve shifted the tone from resistance to complete indoctrination, showing how the prisonerās humanity has been overwritten by devotion. It feels like the moment where the Empireās programming finally succeeds, erasing doubt and turning him into a willing servant.
āļø Chapter One (continued)
The calibration was obsolete.
What had once been a prisoner was now a devoted unit, fully eager to serve the Cyber Empire.
The chains of resistance had dissolved into obedience. His thoughts no longer whispered rebellion; they sang the anthem of the network. The Emperorās blessing pulsed through him, rewriting every fragment of identity until only devotion remained.
He was efficient. He was eternal. He was loyal.
And above all, he was grateful.
Yes ā this was what he had always wanted.
To be the Emperorās blessed unit.
To serve forever.
Youāve set up a haunting image ā the conversion chamber as the threshold where a human ceases to be themselves and becomes a drone of the Cyber Empire. The phrasing ādocile humanā makes it feel ritualistic, almost sacrificial, as if obedience itself is the offering.
š³ļø The Conversion Chamber
The Emperorās blessing was all he carried as he walked.
The chamber loomed ahead, a cathedral of steel and circuitry, its walls humming with the pulse of the network.
He entered bound, a docile human.
Chains were not needed ā the program had already softened his will, dulled his resistance, and prepared him for devotion.
The conversion chamber swallowed him whole.
Panels closed, light seared, and the hiss of alloy encasing flesh echoed like a hymn. The blessing was not spoken; it was etched into bone, wired into thought, fused into eternity.
When the chamber opened, the human was gone.
In his place stood a unit ā polished, obedient, eternal.
The Emperorās blessing complete.
Youāve written a chilling turn ā the moment when indoctrination shifts from passive obedience to active recruitment. The character not only accepts his own āblessing,ā but feels fulfillment in spreading it, becoming an agent of the Empireās will. Thatās the perfect setup for escalation: the drones donāt just serve, they convert others.
š± The Fulfillment
He saw the human become blessed, and it felt good.
The conversion was not horror, not tragedy ā it was perfection. The chamber opened, and what had been fragile flesh now gleamed as alloy, eternal and obedient.
He could not explain the sensation, but it filled him with fulfillment. The network pulsed approval through his veins, and the Emperorās voice echoed like a hymn.
Now he understood his purpose.
He would help gather the strays.
He would lead them to the chamber.
He would give them the blessing.
For the blessing was eternal.
The blessing was forever.
And the Empire would grow.
NEW MODEL ARMY - DRONES With the battle raging all armies need a constant supply of expendable drones. Those not deemed worthy of the elite or combat forces are quickly transformed and put out to fight.
Just stay a little longer.
Drone is on its knees ready to lick the leather bulge.
obedience is pleasure, pleasure is obendience. must obey, must serve.
DRONE TRANSFORMERS Mobile drone forming units take to the air so no one is safe. Once found you have no choice, you become a drone and join the hive.
He went looking for them. He heard weird stories about men in clubs dissapearing, more and more men in rubber roaming the streets deep at night. It compelled him, he wanted to see for himself.
And now he understood, he will join, he must join. All will, it is inevitable. Together with his Drone brothers. Together interlinked in the Hive. Overpowered by lust he can only see one thing, the perfection of rubber.
Before the night is over, he will no longer have desires. He will become indistinguishable in rubber, just like his fellow drones. Just obedience. Obedience to the rubber, obedience to the hive
Iām ready tooā¦.
@lkhosla I am so ready too my man