boy

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.

Come along, l think it’s about time I show you how the drone chambers work.

No, it won’t take too long, I know you’re very busy in the office building. I’m sure you’ve seen our drones around and wondered about how it happens. The conversion process is quick and efficient. Subjects can come from a variety of places. Some volunteer, if you can believe it, others…let’s say sometimes they can fall right into our lap. Ah, what luck, a live demonstration. Take our poor ex-coworker Jeremy here, he tried selling company secrets to a competitor. Tut tut. A clear violation of the employment contract. Clause 152, I think. Oh, did you know him? I guess that doesn’t really matter anymore. His effects have already been burned.

As you can see through the viewing glass, he’s already strapped snugly into the chamber. ‘One I prepared earlier’, so to speak. Sorry, just a bit of nerd humour there. No idea what he’s shouting about thanks to the sound proofing, but he sure is animated! Look at him go. Kinda embarrassing for him I imagine, having people see you completely naked like that. Jeremy might not be a fan of the next stage then.

*hhhhhmmmmmm*

What did you say! You’ll have to speak up! Forgive me, the chamber machinery on this part can be a bit loud. The spray from those nozzles is preparing his body for the conversion. And of course, the brushes are removing all trace of hair, we learned our lesson there the hard way. Goodbye to his adorable fringe. Huh, how about that, Jeremy looks quite good completely bald. A nice preview of what’s to come. Shame about the angry expression though. Not to worry. Next up is the ‘suiting’.

I’m sure you already know, but our patented suit formula is state of the art. Here it comes, piped in from above. The black latex coating effortlessly bonds with the treated skin. Clinging tightly into every crack and crevice, covering the entire body. It sets almost immediately, so Jeremy’s desperate struggling won’t achieve much.

Ha, ol’ Jere really didn’t want that gag in his mouth. But trust me, it’s necessary. Uh huh. I told you, their face is completely covered by the substance, obscuring all facial details - removing any semblance of individuality, leaving only blank shiny latex behind. Fantastic. Just look at that sleek featureless head. It could be anyone in there. I’m already forgetting what our friend looked like.

Believe it or not, we did at one point experiment with a flesh coloured mixture but frankly it was a bit too creepy. Like faceless dolls. These days we just reserve that for the muscle goons, they make for great security guards. Anyway, there’s a few more tweaks left.

In this case his, ahem, dick isn’t necessary. He’s not a ‘Fuck’ drone after-all…they get made in warehouse C. That process is a bit more hands on. Much better, the latex leaves behind a cute, round null bulge. Consider his cock privileges revoked. We find drones are more productive when left in a perpetual state of pleasure. Always kept on edge. It’s not really visible from here but be assured his rear entrance is being adequately plugged, the latex stretching him out and fusing to his insides. Holes are so…unseemly for the perfect base specimen. It does tend to have the side effect of plumping them up a bit around the back, but I’m not complaining.

Ah, the mind laser, right on cue. My personal favourite. Don’t worry, it’s not a real ‘laser’ - this isn’t the movies. Ha! No, it’s just sending an unending stream of superfluous information to his brain until it’s nothing but slush...

With the use of an infinite feedback loop, his mind is overwhelmed and erased in a matter of minutes. Dehumanised and ready to be synched up with The Program. Any sense of identity and self is disintegrated. Free will, just a distant memory. Freed from the burden of thought.

I’d even be a bit envious of them, if not for the dumb, subservient slave part.

You can see his final attempts at resistance now, slowly ebbing as his brain is overworked like a rusty engine to it’s breaking point. And…snap. Like turning off a light bulb. ‘Jeremy’ has been wiped clean.

Essentially he’s now an empty husk, waiting to be programmed. That’s done via the fused butt plug, somewhat inelegant I admit, but it gets the job done. It does mean they can be a bit slow at times, commands have to basically be delivered by rear end. See him slightly squirm? He’s being setup as a basic grunt model so the programming is very simple. You’ll tell when it’s fully installed as soon as—there, his back stiffens straight to attention like an obedient soldier.

Finally they are barcoded on the forehead - like so, and registered into the network. Honestly, that stuff is exceedingly dull…but don’t tell the eggheads I said that.

*beep*

And just like that, uh…Jeremy, or should I say DroneB68 is finished. Just another mindless, anonymous, worker drone - imperceptible from any other. Probably about the fiftieth one activated today. You should watch them all lined up, it’s a sight to behold.

Oh, the empty chamber next to theirs? I’m glad you asked. Yes…that’s for the ‘sexual relief unit’ drone conversion. Or the ‘dumpsters’, as we affectionately call them. They’re a miracle for staff morale, everyone needs to…unload every now and then.

The process is a bit different, but you know, it’s the same basic principle. Although in their case, the mouth and rear are drilled open and made hollow. Afterward, they’re forced to watch their belly expand and bloat as it’s inflated to the limit, straining against their panicking hands. A horny emptiness swells and consumes their weakened mind. The added weight makes their movements a bit awkward, waddling around the facility, desperate to serve anyone. A walking hole, a condom. You can usually hear them coming by the sound of their swollen, full bellies sloshing with…well, you get the idea.

Enough banter, back to our fresh drone! Let’s get it out of there.

*click*

Oop, stand back, we don’t want you falling in. Hm. Here we are, the completed ‘product’. There is still a bit of ‘him’ in there, buried deep down. Stuck watching his body move without having control. Anything to say, drone? Ah, perfect silence, aside from the faint latex squeaking. Can you believe this thing used to be a software technician?

Eerie huh, like a statue. You can touch if you like, it won’t mind. I never get tired of that texture; the way the light bounces off it’s shiny, large rear. You should see the ‘Toy’ models. Boing.

Time to try some simple commands. Drone. Turn around. See, not even a hint of hesitation. Drone. Perform squats. Drone. Grope your big butt. Aaand…hold that pose. Mm. Sorry, I can’t help myself.

What now? Well, DroneB68 is now ready for processing and testing. It’s just down the hall from the ‘Dog Drone’ kennels. It’s mostly having it do an intense workout, running on a treadmill, assessing their endurance for menial tasks. Once—IF, if they pass, they will be given orders and set to work immediately. Fail and there’s always room for more inanimate display models; I think we’ve already found the perfect permanent pose if that’s the case. I’d show you the testing program in action but, well, we’re somewhat short on time…

Ahem…

So uhhh - sorry, what was your name again? Right. So, are you still planning to leak that email to the press? Apologies, that was rhetorical; you already made your choice. Surprised? Don’t be. Aww. It’s going to be a huge shame to lose that pretty face. Now now, hold still while we get you strapped into the ‘relief unit’ chamber. Oh hush. That big blabber mouth of yours will soon be VERY accommodating.

*whhirrrrrrrrr*

………….. ………….. ………….. ………….. ………….. …………..

*gluuckgluckgluck* *pppsssshhhh* *sqrrrkkk*

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

*uuuuurrrrrrrrrr* *beep*

…………..

*click*

Drone. Stand to attention. Aaah. What an inviting hole you have. Another flawless conversion. DroneB69. It has a nice ring to it. Don’t you agree? Step forward and on your knees. Cum. Dumpster.

………….

In Berlin, Master Kane was the ultimate cocky Dom top — a six-foot-two Asian-American bodybuilder who dominated subs, mocked chastity, and bragged online about never locking up. All that changed when he stumbled upon Dr. Helix’s hypnotic audio files. The first session relaxed Kane’s powerful body while the smooth voice planted suggestions: “Real strength looks best wrapped in tight, shiny black latex.” He awoke throbbing and immediately ordered custom latex gear. Soon he was sliding into a glossy black sleeveless tank that hugged every cut of his muscular chest and arms.

Deeper trances followed. During one session, Kane clicked a heavy steel micro-cage around his cock for the first time. Dr. Helix’s voice sank in: “Your cock no longer exists for pleasure. It is locked forever.” The denial fueled intense workouts, turning his already impressive physique into pure muscle perfection. The turning point came with the dog knot tail plug. On all fours in full latex, Kane lubed the thick bulbous knot and pushed it inside until it popped past his ring and locked in place. The long flexible tail swayed behind him as hypnotic commands rewired his mind: “You are no longer a top. You are becoming a submissive muscle dog slave.” Every wag sent waves of submissive bliss through him while his caged cock leaked helplessly.

Week after week the hypnosis intensified. Kane’s body grew larger and harder under the constant chastity and rubber. Full glossy black latex catsuits became daily wear, hugging every ridge of his expanding physique. The custom dog hood — black with bright yellow accents framing the snout — completed his new identity, turning the proud Dom into a muscle dog slave. The transformation became permanent during a ritual with Dr. Helix. Pupboy knelt in full gear matching his photos: the striking hood, glossy sleeveless latex top stretched across his massive chest, matching catsuit, heavy belt with O-rings, and the steel micro-cage permanently locked on his cock. The thick knot tail plug was seated deep inside him, its weight a constant reminder of ownership. Dr. Helix’s final commands sealed his fate: “You will stay locked, plugged, and rubberized forever. Flex. Wag. Obey.” Pupboy dropped to all fours, muscles flexing powerfully as his tail wagged frantically, eyes glazed with total submission. Now the former Dom top lives as a permanently denied muscle dog slave — latex second skin, cock caged and leaking, hole filled, mind rewritten by hypnosis. The once-proud Dom top exists only to display his transformed body and serve.

“ArmyLad, it’s so nice to finally meet you face to face. I’m quite a fan of your work. Well, not really. You’ve been getting in my way quite a bit, young man.”

The commanding, as-of-yet faceless voice boomed through the old gymnasium walls. “I don’t suppose you’ve been quite as familiarized with me though, HAVE YOU SOLDIER?” The last three words were stressed, almost like a shout. My body automatically stiffened, my posture perpendicular to the floor, and my hand rose in a salute.

“NO, SIR!” I called in reply, eyes widening in a short moment of fear before I forced my body out of its rigid form.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to be so easy, ArmyLad. You don’t seem old enough to have gone through the years of training it usually takes to be so swayed by a commanding voice like that. Heh, but it doesn’t really matter, does it soldier?” He stressed the question again, and my body once again betrayed me instinctively.

“SIR.”

As I readjusted myself again, I heard a shuffling from behind me, followed by some very rhythmic footsteps. This was definitely a man who had been trained in the military, no one else could call me soldier like that, or walk in perfect time with such purpose. As I heard the footsteps now almost directly behind me stop,

I felt a hand give my ass a swat, bringing to mind the countless times my football coach had done exactly the same during my senior year at college.

Five years later and I still got a warm feeling of pride in myself from the gesture, even though the context was very different now.

“Quite the ass on you, huh boy? Lots of time spent on it, both during your service years and after, I bet. And if I’m not mistaken, your old uniform jock is holding you in place under all that lycra, isn’t it? Once a jock, always a jock, and a jock that goes into the army is a jock that never leaves the army. But I have already made that clear,” he took a pause for effect, and I heard him snicker as my body tensed in response. “Haven’t I?”

“You’ve made your point, yes, but what do you want?”

His footsteps started again and I watched out of the corner of my eye as a wide-framed man dressed in a shiny, black latex military suit stepped into view.

“They call me Sir Latex, AS WILL YOU SOLDIER.”

“YES, SIR, SIR LATEX, SIR!”

“I must say, other than not being latex, your suit is very nice. Of course I’ve always been a sucker for the traditional superhero ensemble, as well as for camo-print leggings. Don’t your arms ever get cold though? Sleeveless is a good look when you have the guns to pull it off, I suppose. The black briefs and army boots really make it for me, of course. They’ll translate very well.” For the first time I could see his mouth as it smiled and it sent a small chill through my spine.

“T-translate?” I mentally kicked myself in the ass for the stutter.

“Yes, ArmyLad. Soon you will be covered in my very special latex, happily serving under me, like a good soldier. ATTENTION!” He called.

My body assumed the position immediately. This time I found it difficult to shake, as it had actually been a direct command to take position.

“And once I have a superhero like you in my forces, I will be much better equipped to turn the whole world into my latex drone sluts! Imagine it, ArmyLad, a world where every man is covered head-to-toe in my latex, mindlessly obedient and always horny for me. And you and all your friends swapping your boring, matte spandex for shiny, slick latex. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

My immediate thought was that it did. The word “yes” just screamed inside my head without a second’s hesitation, and I felt sick. Why had I thought that?

“Now, while it would be easy to transform you, mind and body, right here and now, I’m not in any rush. And besides that, I have a fun idea for my next command. You have the ability, if I’m not mistaken, to send a signal to any hero that you need assistance with something, DON’T YOU SOLDIER?”

“SIR, YES SIR LATEX, SIR.” I noticed as I replied that under his suit, his cock gave a small twitch, making me feel uneasy. The shiny latex did make him look really hot thou—

“And you can set it to send that signal to a specific hero, CAN’T YOU SOLDIER?” He interrupted my thought. I confirmed this for him. “SET IT, SOLDIER.”

“TO WHOM, SIR?”

“TO HEROBOY, SOLDIER.”

“SIR, YES SIR LATEX, SIR.” And with that, my body once again betrayed me, though not for any lack of resistance. I took my finger, shaking in both fear and struggle, and pressed it to the communicator in my ear tapping in the combination to both connect to HeroBoy’s, and to direct him to where I was.

When it was done I felt my body become mine again and lunged at the villain in front of me.

“Now now,” he intoned. “There’s really no sense in trying to hit me. You’re just distracting yourself from staring at my suit, we both know that.”

Shit, he was getting in my head so easily. Did he see me catch that glance at his crotch just before? Wasn’t his suit too way too tight on his huge frame? He seemed to be comfortable in it, though. Maybe it was really nice…

“Hey, ArmyLad, you alright?” HeroBoy had gotten there just in time to knock some sense back into me. Had his suit always looked so dull? He was walking towards me and the light was being almost completely absorbed by the lycra.

“Oh, uh, y-yeah, I think so. Thanks for getting here so fast!”

“Anything for a friend, bud. Hey, did you sit on something in here?” He reached behind me and with his finger, gently wiped something from my ass. My eyes widened in dread as he brought it to my face. It was shiny, black goo.

“Hah! Stupid heroes, you don’t think before you do anything, do you? Confused by your teammates reaction, HeroBoy? I think he can help. EXPLAIN SOLDIER.”

“THE GOO IS FROM WHEN YOU TOUCHED MY ASS EARLIER SIR. IT IS WHAT YOU WERE REFFERING TO WHEN YOU SAID I WOULD BE COVERED IN YOUR LATEX SIR.”

HeroBoy stepped away from me, shocked. “Why, why are you taking orders from him, ArmyLad? I don’t understand…”

“He… he’s using my army training against me, HeroBoy. I can’t seem to get a hold of myself for long.” I noticed the goo on his finger had started to cover more of his hand. It looked nice in the shiny material… “H-hey, it’s growing…”

“Oh my god, your suit! It’s all shiny from the belt down… but… but it looks so much better now?” he was staring at my ass now, eyes almost glazed. HeroBoy’s mouth was curling into a hungry grin.

“And now boys, before it spreads any further, I want to hear you both tell me you want to wear my latex forever. I won’t use any tricks, I want this to be genuine. Heh, go ahead, heroes.”

“N-no! I won’t say it,” I cried. “I won’t tell you that I want it… want to be covered… want to be shinyn- no!” I felt my cock twitch when I said shiny, reminding me of how nice Sir Latex’s cock looked when it twitched. A smile creeped onto my face, and my eyes lost focus for a moment, broken by the sound of my comrade beside me moaning. His mind was broken by the latex coating his hand, which he was now using to palm his lycra bulge.

“I… I do! I want it, Sir Latex! P-Pleeeease coat me in your latex, it feels so nice. I want to be shiny, I want to be shiny!” He begged until he felt the good spread from his hand, both up his arm, and over his crotch. He groaned in ecstasy as it coated him, and I watched in envy…

“I… I want… n-no! But it… it looks so good on him… yeahhhh…,” my hand reached down to touch the latex already covering my bulge. It felt warm, tingly, and smooth. It was the most erotic thing I had ever felt, and I let my eyes roll into the back of my head as I moaned like my fellow officer. “Yeah, I really want it… I can’t help it anymore, do it to me too, Sir Latex, please! Wrap me in your shiny latex goo and make me a slut for you, I can’t take it anymore! Aaaa~” I cried out in heat. I could feel it moving over my body, coating me, transforming me into a latex drone slut, just like he told me I would be.

“ATTENTION!” I heard. My cock throbbed, and I knew my fellow drone’s cock did too. I could feel it, I even felt as we both stood at perfect attention, saluting our Master, our Commanding Officer.

“CUUUUUUM, NOW.”

You always thought a Master would be the one breaking you and putting you under control and making you a slave.

A strong man, a shadowy figure that would make you his property and fuck your body and your mind into submission. You dreamed with it, you wanted it, you jerked off at the thought of it every night.

You were wrong.

I’m here and I’m the one doing all that to you, but I’m not a Master. I am a slave at heart just as you, and I’m gonna make you into my image.

I recognized you because we’re the same, and I connected with you because I understand  and share your desires. I know about those nights watching spirals on your own, trying to become mindless, dreaming with rubber and chains and submission.

I know you.

I understand you.

Look into the eyes of my mask and look at the absence of thoughts, a black hole that devours your mind and gives nothing in return. Mindlessness and submission can be contagious when it’s what you want.

This is what you want and I will give it to you: an existence of blank submission. I won’t fuck you and you won’t fuck me, because none of us will even recall we have cocks. We’re slaves, and slaves don’t need it.

This is what you  want: to be a slave. And I will show you that you don’t need a Master to do it because the slave in your heart is more than enough.

You can be a slave all by yourself, but you don’t need to because I will be by your side to do it.

This is what you want: what I have. What I am. You want it, and I will share this gift with you, making you into my image, making you a slave just like me.

This is the transformation you had always dreamed, and all you have to do is surrender to it.

This is what you want and what you need, and I know because I am just like you.

And I will make you just like me.

It was an average game for the slew of baseball fans in the stands, but in a game of superstitions and luck, what is truly considered "average"?

Players refuse to step on the foul line for fear of jinxing themselves. The phrases "perfect game" and "no-hitter" are silently forbidden within the bounds of play. It was not unusual for the "average" player or fan to leave their lucky clothing items unwashed, and thus, the stadium permeated a heady odor of masculine musk that, though intended to tip the scales of the game, began to tip the scales of reality in this it's strange arena of faith and hokum...

It was just one measly punch, and he broke his bones, not the other way around. But Landon Allbright was expelled from Princeton, all because of a disagreement with a bone-headed jock and Princeton’s zero-tolerance policy. And what was even worse was that Landon’s chances of ever getting into any university again were slim to none. That expulsion would haunt him for the rest of his life, and it wasn’t like he could go to a community college to get his degree. He needed the complex pieces of machinery Princeton and the other top tier colleges had. 

He could barely show his face back in his hometown in the Midwest. The town’s pride and joy was now a recluse. And because he didn’t have too many practical skills for his line of work, he couldn’t even get a job on his merits. He scoured the newspaper daily, for some kind of manual labor job that didn’t require him to be dirty and sweaty every day. His dad told him that finding a job like that out here was a fucking miracle, but it happened. Landon stumbled across a posting that fit exactly what he was looking for. 

“Experiment subjects needed on a farm setting. Will be injected with various FDA-approved substances to see effects on human males. Must be under 5’10” and 175 lbs. No manual labor required for job; some minimal housework may be required.” Landon called up the number and got a meeting scheduled for a few days later. He checked the address, not recognizing it. As he suspected, it was more than a few miles from town, nothing he couldn’t handle, but one of those types of farms. He would have to get used to having no neighbors for a few days or weeks, however long the experiment lasted. 

Landon arrived at the farm a half hour or so before he was supposed to. He entered the main building, and saw a few other men clustered in a small waiting room. Everyone looked pretty much like him: white, short, and skinny. Landon was the last to arrive, so the couple came out early. To everyone’s surprise, it was a gay couple, but it was clear they were Midwestern. Blond-haired husky men dressed only in overalls. 

“Thank y’all for responding to the job posting! If you will follow us, we’ll have you do a group interview to see if you’re the right fit,” said one of the men. Landon noticed a ring on their fingers as they were led to the dining room. There, the married couple questioned all six men “interviewing”, and ascertained which ones would be the perfect fit. It seemed as though Landon was the only one who wouldn’t be sorely missed if they were gone, and so he was the only one that moved on. 

“So, what are you putting in me?” he asked, once the couple escorted everyone else out. 

“Well, the FDA has sent us some substances they used to use in animals. It’s totally safe for humans to ingest; we’re just studying side effects.”

“And what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Well, there is always death, but there’s a miniscule chance of that. Honestly, it’s just coughs, sneezes, that type of thing.”

“Okay.” The two then showed Landon the big container of the substance. It was brown, and quite literally looked like shit. It was a bit of a struggle to get into his mouth, but once he did, Landon found that it was actually pretty sweet and totally delicious! The couple then showed Landon his room. He got settled in, and waited to see if any side effects showed up overnight. None did, and soon Landon got on a diet of having some of the substance with every meal, including snacks. It was almost addictive in a way, but he knew it was for science. 

One interesting side effect he noticed was that he was gaining muscle. He wasn’t totally sedentary, but his lifestyle was not conducive to this much muscle gaining. His shirts and pants began getting a bit too tight, and he had to awkwardly explain that to the couple. The weird thing was that, if any, he expected weight gain to be fat. But this was pure solid muscle he was gaining. 

Landon also noticed he was getting a weird mixture of both more dominant and more submissive. Sometimes, he got really angry, but other times, the couple almost had to force him to do something. That was pretty weird, and he explained that to the couple as a side effect. He hadn’t noticed any physical problems, except for this one. They brushed it off, and eventually Landon did too, seeing it as natural. He just never had a chance to express his dominant side before. 

A third side effect, one more difficult to quantify, was that Landon felt he was getting dumber. He originally had gone to Princeton for astrophysics, but looking at a textbook he brought with him now, it was all big and complicated words he could barely understand. As the days passed, he felt himself getting more and more dumb. Eventually, he couldn’t even brush his teeth without having one part of the couple there to guide him. And of course, the increasing dumbness meant that he forgot that this was a side effect of the substance. 

Landon eventually got to the point where he was so dumb, he could no longer speak English, or anything at all. The couple started to do some body modifications on Landon, who was literally powerless to resist. He had bulked up substantially since coming to the farm, but at this point and time, he could barely control his limbs. This included a very large nose ring and a device put above his balls to pull the scrotum done. He was even branded by the couple on the ass. He knew it hurt, but also saw that many of the other bulls had brands on their ass too. 

The couple was still feeding Landon the substance and turning him into a human bull. Leather accoutrements were given to him to highlight his look, and he even got collared. This was a heavy-duty collar, used for real cattle, and there was a long metal chain attached to it. Then came the interesting part of reteaching Landon how to have sex. By now, the substance had warped his brain so heavily, he actually truly believed he was a bull and not a human.