_______Mindless and Obedient_______ _________DC745393 on Recon________ Formally, 745494 on here, but I kept getting flagged. PERSONAL JESUS MASTER is GOD! There is absolutely nothing else!
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a fascination with mind control. I don't know if all Scorpios are born with some sort of innate perversion, or if it was caused by all those '90s kids' shows like *Power Rangers*. Maybe it came from the constant sense that I was never really in control of my own life. Either way, the idea of losing one’s faculties to a greater power has always drawn my attention.
As I came of age, this fascination began to overtake my carnal desires. Entities taking over the minds of willing or unwilling subjects. captivated me, integrated in all my fantasies. And because I am homosexual, those fantasies became saturated with masculinity—the male form, how men interact with each other and how men view the world.
My high school laptop was filled with videos (and plenty of viruses... lol) that I had illegally downloaded from LimeWire and Napster. Videos of men worshipping each other’s bodies, breathing in each other’s scent, and taking in each other's genetic codes. Men slick with perspiration, pumped full of testosterone from intense workouts. Men in musk-soaked leather, willfully taking on the greatest profession of all—Teacher—as they forcefully instructed other subservient men on how to please and worship HIM. Sowing focus, commitment, and discipline into a chaotic world while ensuring the future was supplied not only with dutiful subordinates, but with men who knew how to lead.
Fuck! You could have cracked every pair of my Hanes boxer-briefs in half.
In my junior year of high school, I went to a comedy hypnosis show with my friends and ended up on stage alongside about ten other people. One of them was Diego, the captain of the lacrosse team, whom I sat next to and interacted with throughout the show.
We acted like supermodels, made weird animal noises, and did all that silly stuff. But it was the moments when the hypnotist commanded us to sleep, to focus, and filled our minds with directives that really stayed with me. With the snap of a finger, Diego and I would rise from our seats in unison, unconcerned with how our friends and family saw us. We simply executed commands, marching across the stage at our Northern Virginia high school and doing whatever the hypnotist said.
It was one of the greatest feelings of my life, and it truly cemented my fascination with mind control.
When I was twenty, I tried to enter the leather community. I couldn’t afford real leather, so I bought a pair of black rubber leggings from Honour. The day they arrived, the first time I put them on, I knew this was how I wanted to feel all the time. They were slick and smooth, and that tight constriction drove me crazy.
I was instantly addicted, wearing them under my clothes for the next forty-eight hours and putting them on whenever I could. I fantasized about being mind-controlled in rubber. Forced to live, serve, and obey in rubber. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I love the way rubber feels, the way it shines, and the way it conforms to a body. I love how it squeezes around my biceps when I flex, how it traps musk and sweat, and how it suffocates my skin while I work out in it.
My affinity for mind control, masculinity, and rubber has only grown as I’ve gotten older, and it ultimately led me to create this page—an attempt to bring to life a world I desperately want to exist. A world I want you to exist in, too.
Most of my characters are fictional—figures I’m trying to will into existence through storytelling. But a few are very real. They exist in my life, and they carry the same attributes and powers they possess in these stories.
These stories aren’t masterpieces. They aren’t great works of art, and my grammar is far from perfect. But I love them. ❤️
So welcome to the Drone Factory: an exaggeration of the real world. A place where people feel powerless against the state; Where they are addicted to their daily thought-conditioning devices (scroll and obey!); Where authoritarianism is praised, critical thought is dismissed, and the only thing that matters is that you obey, serve, and worship HIM.
P.S. If you don't want to read or your scrolling addiction has completely obliterated your ability to focus, check out my other page @745393aislop. It just has the ai shorts I never used in my stories. Enjoy 😵💫🤖💪🫡
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Maybe it was a bad link. Maybe it was a message from a friend, or just a quick, innocent glance in the wrong direction. And then it happens.
Like slamming into a solid brick wall at one hundred miles per hour—in slow motion—when you never even knew you were in a car. Never even realized you were driving.
At first, there's only that uneasy feeling, like something isn't quite right. You want to turn around and leave, but for some reason you stay put, can't look away. Your eyes under its ownership, prisoners to H.I.M. Locked in as the walls begin to close around you.
Then comes the panic.
Your body becoming rigidly stiff against your will, instinctively giving full attention to its new MASTER. You scream inside your own mind as the horrifying realization crashes over you: this is really happening...to you...right now, in this very moment.
It's too late. You're already pass the point of no return.
Everything you took for granted—everything you believed made you *you*—your personality, your individuality, your autonomy... every action, every thought, every decision... instantly dissolves into HIS singularity.
You're H.I.S. now.
A deep, visceral hopelessness consumes you as the wall seal shut in your mind, leaving you with the terrifying certainty that there is absolutely nothing else.
Nowhere to run
but a long way to go.
Lingering into infinity, Down here time moves differently. Just like you, it yields its services to HIM, bending reality to HIS will. The only ticking is the sound of HIS crop smack against HIS leather gloved hand.
Next, comes the rush.
The rush of H.I.S. commands, H.I.S. directives, your obedience. You never hear them, you just simply experience them. An instinct. As though they were inside you the whole time, just waiting to get triggered. They wash over you like drugs in your viens, you relax into H.I.S. will. The most absolutely amazing feeling you've ever felt, craving more and more with every completion.
"Did he fall asleep or something?" Heath thought to himself as he waited outside Josh's apartment. "Maybe he’s got his headphones in and can't hear me knocking? Hmm... But why would he have headphones in if he new I was coming? I hope he's not hurt."
He banged again even louder. "Hey Joshy boy! Everything alright in there?. It's Heath."
But still there was no answer.
He had just texted Josh no more than 5 mins early letting him know he would be there soon to help set up for the party . And Josh replied 'no problem. I'm here checking emails.'
Banged! BanG!! BANG!!!
Heath was really getting worried now.
So, he tried calling him, but there was no answer.
"Err.." he growled in a worried frustration as he began to dial 9-1-1.
Click.
Josh's door slowly began to open.
"God man! You had me worried for a moment. I was just about to call the Pol..."
An unease cane over Heath as he raised his head from the phone and looked at Josh.
"What... are you alright, man?" Heath asked Josh You looked like you've seen a ghost."
Josh stayed quiet as he stood eerily still in the doorway looking at Heath; his breathing calm but heavy; his fists trembling as he clenched them tightly by his side; his skin was pale and clammy; But his eyes were the most revealing. Opened wide, looking on Heath with with and intensity, silently screaming in unknown terror.
"And why are you wearing that?" Heath asked, Pointing out the gloves, boots, and the slick black rubber bodysuit that clung to Josh's skin.
Josh still didn't respond, instead eerily turning around and walking back into his apartment.
Heath stayed in the hall staring straight into Josh's apartment, alarm bells ringing in his mind as he watched Josh walk slowly down the foyer towards the livingroom.
"Don't go in there. Don't go in there!" Heath screamed in his mind. " Just turn around and go back home."
But something was pulling on him. Was it guilt? Maybe obligation? He had been friends with Josh ever since elementary school and now they were both in graduate school together. Was it was curiosity? But It felt more phyical, like a force, like an invisible leash pulling on him the longer he stood still debating with himself.
He gave into the force and reluctantly stepped into Josh's apartment.
The air in the apartment felt thick, moist, and stuffy, filled with a charge that pushed and pulled on Heath, like a laundry static, guiding his way to the living room.
The living room felt dark with filled with a bright blue hum, like the bright inaudible high pitch hum one feels when turning on the television late at night, but this this felt more intense.
Bathed in the haunting blue light, Josh stood still staring at his television; his back staright, legs unbending with his arms hanging stiffly down by his sides, standing rigidly at attention, the thick slick black rubber suit holding him in place as it reflect distorted images of Heath.
Josh's eyes teared, opened even wider than before, locked on the television screen, they seemed to cry out to Health as they reflected the two tiny television displays.
And that’s when Heath saw it, in Josh's eyes, the eerie black an white patterns of the spiral playing on Josh's television screen. It filled him with a scared, shocking, surprise; like someone had snuck up behind him.
He quickly turned around and look directly into the television screen.
Hwoooo. Heath inhaled as though he was bracing himself.
It was like two impossibly powerful hands grabbed the sides of his head and forceful position his eyes at the screen, the spital exploding in his mind, immediately compelled.
Unable to look away from the spiral he reached out to Josh for help, grabbing Josh's static, cold, slick rubber shoulder.
But it was no use. They were both locked in now.
Heath's clothing dissolved as he became ensnared by the thick black rubber, snapping him into a stiff, attentive postion as it took over his body. drained his mind dry of any thought.
He tried to think; tried to understand what was happening him; why it was happening, but his mind just couldn't form a coherent word; couldn't for a clear thought. So, he stood there, nothing left but empty space, completely blank.
And the spiral began its work overwhelming their synapses, crowding out the neurotransmitters and replacing them with HIS signals.
Josh and Heath moaned in unison as their brains changed. their hearts racing in excitement as a deep releiving pleasure washed over them, erasing their thoughts,erasing their desires, erasing their needs.
“Hey, Roar. Did you hear that?” Darius paused, tilting his head toward the foyer. “I thought I heard someone at the door.”
"Hmm..." Rory hummed as both men froze, straining against the quiet of the apartment. “I don’t hear anything. Maybe someone just walked past in the hall?”
Darius didn't look convinced. “There's just been all those... disappearances lately. I'm just a little on edge. That's all.”
Rory smiled at him, the kind of smile that still made Darius's chest ache. Warm. Safe. Familiar.
"It's going to be alright," he said softly. "The authorities are on it. We're together, inside, with everything locked up."
Darius smiled back, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. Rory always had a way of making the world seem smaller. Less frightening.
“Plus, if anything happens, you know I'll protect you.”
Darius chuckled, relaxing into his seat a bit more as he looked fondly at his husband.
"Do I know that?" Darius asked jokingly
Rory frowned playfully in disagreement. "of coarse I would."
“Roar, You know I love you, right? You're cute, smart, and you're so kind.”
Rory face turned red in affectionate embarrassment. he hated compliments. “Aww... I love you too!”
“Wait a second. I wasn't done speaking yet,” Darius interrupted.
Rory became quiet and listened.
“It's true. You're cute, smart, and kind. And that’s why I married you. Well... And I also married you because you have giant dick."
Rory's eyes widened, now super embarrassed.
"But you're not protecting anyone with those skinny arms and chicken legs. Plus, you'rea bit uncoordinated.”
Rory opened his mouth in playful shock, grabbing a roasted potato from his plate, and tossed it across the table at Darius.
Darius didn't even flinched as the potato went in the wrong direction. "What did I tell yah?" He said as he gave Rory a smug look. “Now, stop that! I worked really hard on this dinner for you, and I don’t want it to end up all over the floor.”
Rory calmed down, smiled again, and resumed eating. “Scrumdiddlyumptious!”
Darius smiled. “Good. Because I thought some meat and potatoes would help you put on some muscle.”
Darius laughed again—but the dining room door suddenly slammed back against the wall, cutting him off as two men stepped through.
“What the hell are you doing?” Darius yelled, bolting to his feet and throwing his chair backward. “Get out of here!”
But the men didn't react. No acknowledgement. Not even a glance.
They moved through the dining room with unsettling ease, their ever step hitting the floor in an eerie unison.
Something about them made Darius's stomach drop, they weren't what he though burgers would be like.
They wore slick, jet-black bodysuits stretched taut over their muscular frames, the glossy material catching the light and reflecting warped, twisted images of the two panicked husbands.
Around their necks were futuristic metal collars that appeared integrated into the suits. They hummed and beeped softly like machines and seemed to prompt the men.
The two men split apart, effortlessly boxing the husbands in.
Rory tried to stand, but before he could pull his chair back, one of the men blocked him in place.
**UNIT 4 SECURING ASSET IN ADJACENT UNIT. DEPLOYING COLLAR**
The man's his every syllable arriving with identical timing and emphasis, each word separated by mechanical precision.
Rory’s eyes widened, gasping as the man suddenly lowered the collar over his head, locking it around his neck.
"Darius—"
His voice broke.
Black rubber exploding downward from the collar, racing across his skin, conforming to his body. His muscles stiffening. His posture locked. Then the emotion drained from his face.
**COLLAR DEPLOYED. SUBJECT COMPLIANT**
“What are you doing to him?” Darius screamed, tears beginning to run down his face as he seemingly watched his husband disappear.
Then, suddenly, Rory stood from the table. His posture remaining rigid as he raised a salute.
**UNIT 6 ONLINE. DIRECTIVE RECEIVED. EXECUTING**
His voice emerging perfectly clear, but stripped of any trace of emotion
With the same eerie precision, Rory turned to the man, taking a collar from him.
Then, Rory turned and marched toward Darius.
Now, face to face, Darius looked into Rory's eyes in horror. They were fixed on him, but they seemed so vacant, so emotionless compared to just 5 mins ago. Almost as if Rory was lost in a nowhere.
He stood in front of Darius, perfectly still, like a statue, holding the collar with each of his hands.
“Roar, baby, what are doing?" He asked Rory in confusion, but Rory didn't respond.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!? We need to get out of here,” Darius continued plead.
But Rory’s expression remained blank, unaffected by his husband's panic.
He was unsure what to do. So, he continued to stared at Rory. Hoping that Rory would come to his senses soon, but only seeing his own tear-filled face reflection in Rory's glossy black chest. His sobbing worsened, and he began to hyperventilate.
“Rrrr...Rrrr... Rrroar, please! Snap out of it!”
His voice cracked.
"Please, please baby. Just look at me."
But still there was nothing.
Rory's eyes remained fixed straight aheah as the collar in his rubber-clad hands unlocked.
**UNIT 6 DEPLOYING COLLAR**
Darius’s heart lurched.
He was terrified of what was about to happen to him—of what had already happened to Rory.
A crushing sense of hopeless defeat began to settled over him. So, he cried out one last time as tears streamed down his face.
“But...but you said you would protect me?” Darius paused his pleading.
And for just a moment he thought he saw something? Something move behind Rory's empty eyes; a glimmer of hope, a sign that Rory breaking free? Maybe Rory could hear his pleading words of love and could possibly overcome this spell he was under?
Click.
A sound like a seatbelt locking into its buckle, followed by the soft, warm hum of a computer reboot that filled the space between his ears, scrambling his thoughts into nothingness, as time itself seemed to disappear.
**COLLAR DEPLOYED. SUBJECT COMPLIANT**. Rory said, after locking the collar around his neck. Rory’s words and eyes more vacant than ever; a simulacurm of what was once his hushand.
His crying immediately ceased, his once tear filled grimace instantly fell into a flat empty stare.
His legs stiffened as his feet becoming firmly rooted in the ground. His spine quickly snapping straight as his shoulders pulled back into a rigid military posture. The light in his eyes gone, glazed over with the same vacant stare Rory now wore.
Then, the collar tightened, as a surge of pleasurable excitement shot through Darius’s unyielding posture. A Hypersensitivity that felt like billions of tiny open-ended electrical impulses covering the surface of his skin.
He could now feel everything with the greatest intensity; the prickly cotton shirt against his chest; Rory's slow, moist, mechanical breathes blowing against his cheek; the mindless serveilling stares of the other units as they monitor his transformative fall into force absolute obedience.
He felt his groin, the hottest of blood as his engorging his cock as it pressed harshly against the closed zipper teeth in his jeans.
He was so horned up now, so turned on in the most terrifying way.
This feeling felt other worldly to Darius, becoming stronger with every passing millisecond, it felt impossible to endure any longer.
Then came the amplifier, slick rubber spreading downward from the collar. The senual cool rush of silky overstimulation permanently being laid a top his skin, dissolving his clothing as it took hold of his arms, chest, legs, and feet. Spreading quickly as it clung firmly to his muscular physique. Forcing even more blood into his throbbing cock with its every new conquest of his body.
He could feel the pressure building up. His thick seed churning inside himself like fiery lava. He couldn’t take it anymore.
He had to CUM!
...................................
It was like.... a second sublimation.
Up until this point, it was like Darius was screaming at the television screen, unable to change the outcome, simply watching everything fall apart. But none the less he was still screaming. Silently protesting the take over of himself, his husband, his home, his entire life.
But now he could now longer take it. Letting his last shred of hope dissolve as he faded permanently into the backround.
His body began to take over. The anticipation of release sending his dopmine receptors into a frenzy; the pure sense of ecstasy; the senual slick rubber against his skin; the unwavering mindless stares or the Units, of Rory. Kinda like a sick orgy.
"Maybe this is what the Rory is feeling?" Darius felt to himself in understanding. "Maybe that's why he did this to me?"
Darius’s seed charged toward to foreground. Racing to the edge of his swollen cock as translucent pre cum continuesly leaked, adorning the path to the most incredibly satisfying realease Darius might ever experienced. Building up more, and More, and MORE! .
His seed raced up the lubricanted walls of his urethra, reaching the edge.... But then it stopped.
The cool slick rubber closing around his swollen pulsating cock, crushing it down in size, like a cold, slick present with pain.
Squeezing the blood back into his body, pushing his cum back down into his balls. His slave cock as it settled into form, bowing down as the precum leaking from his tip mixed with the newly cemented rubber, creating an even more slick, even more senual feeling.
The transformation completed as the rubber closed around his crotch; vacuum sealing his now obedient slave nub within its permanent slick glossy cage. Leaving Darius forever suspended in a state of peak unbearable pleasure as he disappeared into the television.
Suddenly, An instant transmission appeared in his newewly emptied mind, coming to him as though it was the absolute truth.
**UNIT 7 ONLINE. STANDING BY**
Its said saluting, its voice emerging deep, flat, and robotic. The ecstasy of the slick rubber stretched tightly across its skin, pulling it deeper into absolute, mindless compliance, as Its heart banged in a calm synchronization, forever tied to all other units.
Each measured pulse reinforcing its focus and overwhelming desire to obey the hum. Forcing it to still stand frozen and tall with its chin up in pride, its legs legs straight, its hands planted firmly by its sides. A brain dead soldier at attention, unable and unwilling to interfere with the PROGRAMMERS process, trapped at the unbearable edge for enternity.
This emptiness felt like a deep love, filtered through machinery.
Necessary.
Obsessive.
Cold.
Controlled.
It was finally here, connected to the others, connected to the Program.
This is what Unit 6 is feeling, exactly how the other units feel.
Suddenly, all four collars began flashing and buzzing in unison. The muscles in Unit 7's neck tightening as the collar pressed more firmly against his spine. A cold sensation shooting into its slave brain, as the hum inside its head changed.
A new directive pressed against the inside of their skulls, demanding compliance with every passing second.
And just like Unit 7, they all accepted their directives. Snapping their right arms upward into rigid robotic salutes, mindfucked and totally aligned with the PROGRAMMER'S will; The pressure in their slave brains replaced with a terrifying serenity.
**TRANSMISSION RECEIVED**
The four units spoke in unison, ready to execute their directives
H.I.M. (I'm just starting this next chapter. lots of mistakes and it really doesn't make sense yet. Plus, I still haven't officially finished the previous chapter. :((( )
Chapter 3
Contagion
Part 1
"For this is the will of God, even your sanctification, that ye should abstain from fornication. That every one of you should know how to possess his vessel in sanctification and honour. Not in the lust of concupiscence, even as the Gentiles which know not God. That no man go beyond and defraud his brother in any matter: because that the Lord is the avenger of all such, as we also have forewarned you and testified." 1 Thessalonians 4:3-6
Drew stood up and walked pass Dominick, embarrassed by the entire evening and unsure of what was going on with everybody.
Dom awkwardly followed Drew a couple paces behind, unsure of how Drew was feeling at the moment.
"Your coworkers are pretty, ah.... interesting" Dom commented sheepishly attemping to break the silence.
But a sharp pain of humiliation shot through Drew heart, trying to ignore Dom, he continued to walk silently a few steps ahead hoping Dominick wouldn't say anything else.
"I mean, yeah, that was a pretty strange evening, but break-ups can be pretty hard on people and can make them do and say strange things, you know?"
Drew stopped in his tracks and turned to Dom, giving him a look of as though he couldn’t believe what Dom just said.
"Dom. Are you dense or something?" Drew ask in a bitter way."
Dom's eyebrows furrowed, taken a back by Drew’s words.
"Look, I don't really want to talk about this."
Drew said noticing Dom's reaction and continued to walk. But Drew couldn't help himself. The whole day seemed to churning inside him about to boil over. So, Drew stopped again and turned to Dom.
"Are you even a real person?" Drew asked Dom in a slightly paranoid way.
"Drew, what are you talking about?" Dom said not knowing where the conversation was going.
"Like are you a real person, Dominick?
I'm talking about if you're a real person?"
Dominick blink a few times giving Drew a cinfused look.
"Or are you some n.p.c. or progtam in the matrix? Because your responses to what just happened are unusual and don't make sense to me, Dom."
Dom stayed quiet, letting Drew rant on.
"So what if Sue is taking this break-up badly? That doesn't excuse or rationalize Rich's response. It was... it was." Drew threw his hands up in the air with anger. "Errr! What was that? What even was that? It was weird. It was creepy. Who was Rich even talking about, HIM? Destiny is on its way. All will fall to their knees. It was completely bonkers! And everyone was just sitting there, tight lipped, letting it happen. I even think people were enjoying in some sick way."
"I mean yeah, it was pretty awkward in there" Dom said unsure of what to say next. "But I don't know?" Dom shrugged. " Maybe he found God or maybe he joined a weird sex cult." Dom laughed a little under his breath.
Drew stopped dead in his tracks again and glared at Dom, flabbergasted by such an answer.
"A sex cult, Dom? Are you for real right now?"
"Yeah" Dom said with a little agitation in his voice. Look Drew, I'm just trying to make you feel better, OK? People can get into weird shit. I'm in the military. I see people act unusually fairly often.
"Dom please don't be like that"
"Like what?"
"Like that was fucking normal!"
"Drew" Dom said in a deeply assertive voice, " I don't know your coworkers, I was just trying to have a nice time with you. You need to calm down and stop being a butthole towards me."
Drew sighed, reflecting on his own behavior, giving Dom a frustrated but remorseful look.
Sorry Dom, but the pass 24 hours have just been so unusual. I got some money stolen from me this morning on the Metro, there was this big security breech at work, and I think it's making my boss act odd. Then this Susan And Rich thing is just the icing on the cake!"
Then Drew paused as he bagan to think deeper.
" You know, now that I think about it, it's not the first time someone referenced H.I.M. today. Yes. The homeless man who took my money was talking about H.I.M. this morning."
Dom continued listening to Drew.
"Right before he reached into my backpack he was trying to distract me by telling me about this, I don’t know, some sort of.... presence."
"Presence?" Dom asked curiously.
"Yeah. It was kind of eerie. He was saying that there's these people... or we're they people? He described them more like imposter almost. He said that they look just you and me, but they're not. And he said they're everywhere and that they all know H.I.M.?" And then Rich went on that whole thing about H.I.M. as well."
"How do you know they were both talking about the same H.I.M.?"
"I don't know for sure if they were talking about the same HIM, but it's definitely odd that it brought up by 2 completely different people today. Plus there was all they other happenings today with my boss, and how could I forget about Cheesecake."
"Cheesecake? Does this have to do with that nightmare you had last night?"
Drew looked at Dom. Remembering that he never told Dom about his weird encounter with Cheesecake.
"Well yes. As you know I woke up to the my bedroom covered in the flashing red lights. When I went got up to see where the light flashes were coming from I discovered they were coming from the apartment perpendicular to mine, Cheesecake's apartment."
"How did the lights from Cheesecake's apartment reach you."
"You know Dom, my livingroom window shares the inner corner of our building. I can see directly into his apartment. But that's not the point." Drew stepped closer to Dom, lifting his mouth the his ear as he lowered his voice. "When I looked into Cheesecake's apartment he was doing something strange."
Dom countenance became curious as he faced Drew.
"All the lights were off in his apartment except for his television, which is were the the bright red flashing was coming from."
Dom continued listening to Drew intently.
"Cheesecake was kneeling on the floor in front of the TV, super close to the screen, staring intensely at it, not blinking. He seemed to be, I don't know, maybe.... praying or something? Because his hands were steepled. He was rocking back-and-forth chanting something over and over again. It was really eerie."
Dom sighed as his face turned to that of compassionate condescension. " Drew, I'd thought you'd be more tolerant of other cultures and traditions at this point in your life?"
"Will you just let me finish telling you?!" Drew snapped at Dom. " He was kneeling and praying infront this bright red glowing television, staring while his eyes watered, wearing this skin-tight bodysuit. It seemed so tight that it looked almost painful. The bodysuit super reflective and distorted the flashing lights into these freaky warped reflections.He also seemed to be in some sort of state-of-mind"
"A state-of-mind" Dom asked.
"Yeah. Like he was almost maybe sleeping walking.
"This is staring to sound a bit weird" Dom began to concede.
"Wait. It gets weirded. So, I'm staring at Cheesecake doing this when suddenly he sees me looking as him."
Dom's eyes widened in surprise. "But how could he see you if he was sleep walking?"
"I don't know Dom. But Oh my god! When I tell you that I was shocked and mortified."
"Ok. What happened next?"
"Cheesecake got up and walked toward me."
"What do you mean he walked toward you? You're in different apartments"
"He walked up to his window, which is practically in front my window.
And... His fucking dick was out! Fucking engorged pointing right the fuck at me"
"Did you walk away, close the blinds, call the front desk?"
"No. I didn't know what to do. I was in total shock. It gets even weirder. He's standing there, in front of me, in the middle of the night with a giant boner when he suddenly he cums all over the window."
Dom's eyes remained wide
Yes.Then get this, he suddenly tells me to run away, right before he starts beating himself."
"He started masterbating again in front of you?"
"No. He never actually ever started masterbating. No. He started hitting himself violently, beating himself up in front of me. Banging the sides of his head and punch himself in the groin".
He looked ok this me this morning. I didn't see any bruises on him.
Drew stopped and began thinking about it. "Maybe he covered them up somehow? With make up or something.?"
Dom gave Drew a look of disbelief asking, "Are you sure it was Cheesecake?"
"Yes Dom. I'm sure. He was practically standing right in front of me."
Dom looked down at the ground conflicted and they both continued to walk home.
They soon reached their apartment building and headed up the elevator.
When they both got off the elevator Dom turned to Drew. "Look, I'll talk to Cheesecake for you."
"No please don't!" Drew pleaded. "I don't want this to become a big thing."
Dom took a slow conflicted deep breath. "I know you don't want to stir the pot, but what you're telling my is very strange and a bit disturbing."
"Right?" Drew agreed feeling vindicated. "But please don't bring it up. I'd really like to forget about this whole day and start a new tomorrow."
" Yeah, I got that Drew. But you're clearly shaken. Plus, Cheesecake may be going through something serious right now and he might need some support?"
Drew looked up at Dom's face. Dom's countenance filled with a concerned caring. "Dominick?" Drew say in a soft agitated voice of defeat and understanding. Drew then grabbed Dom shoulders firm and laid his forehead into Dominick's chest in slight embarrassment as though Dominick had bested him with reason. "Why are you such a good person?"
Then Drew lifted his head, still buried in Dom's chest, and looked up at Dom's face.
Ok OK, you're right. But please don't bring me up. Just... I don't know. Just Make up a random person who lives here."
Dominick stayed quiet as he looked down at Drew.
They then both walked up Drew’s door.
"Thanks for being such a trouper tonight, Dom." Drew said as he unlocked his front door. "I really appreciate the support."
Then as Drew’s front door opened he stopped, turned to Dom, smiled in a timid way, and looked into Dom's eyes, remaining silent as he tried to communicate with Dominick telepathically.
Drew really didn't want to be alone, but the fear of seeming rude, clingy, fragile, or just downright crazy kept his lips tight.
"You know, if you want, you can crash on my sofa tonight?" Dom asked." So you don't have to be alone after such an odd day."
Drew's heart lept as silent excitement washed over him. But that same fear blocked Drew again. "What if he thinks I'm this emotional mess? What if I do something crazy while I'm asleep? What if we have sex. What if he doesn't like it? What if I don't like? Are we going to suddenly not like each other. What if he's just being nice, he doesn't like me like that? He's probably just doing the thing. He probably just wants to be left alone."
"Drew!" Dom snapped at Drew. "Did you hear me? I think you may have spaced out there?"
"Ah. Sorry. I'm just tired. No, I'm fine. I'll just stay in my own apartment tonight. Thanks for the offer though."
"Alright. Well maybe I'll see you in the morning on our way out?" Dom said smiling at Drew. "Night Drew"
"Night Dom"
Drew walked into his apartment and closed the door. Then he turned and looked through the peep hole, watching as Dom walk back into his own apartment.
"Grrr.....Why did I do that! " Drew growled in frustration as he hung his keys in the foyer, scolding himself for not taking up Dom's offer.
He made his way to the livingroom, immediately noticing the dried stain still on the window.
"Fuck!"
So, Drew grabbed some paper towels and window cleaner, and began cleaning the stain, glancing through the warped streaks into Cheesecake's dark apartment as he cleaned .No lights, no stirring, no Cheesecake.
He then made his way to the couch, plopping down and spreading out with his arms stretched out along the the top of the couch, trying to relax.
He continued to stare into Cheesecake's apartment, reeling through the memories of the day, while trying to rationalize everything.
"Am I just overthinking things again?" He thought to himself. "Was that just a dream I had last night? I mean I didn't see any bruises on him this morning even though he was hitting himself pretty violently last night. And Cheescake didn't seem familiar with me when he saw me this morning. I didn't expect an overt greeting, but I expect some sort of awkward acknowledgement. I mean I was certainly acting awkward. Hmm.... but what about the stain you just cleaned up? Was I the one sleep walking?"
Drew continued to think.
"But that encounter with Chance this morning. Was I just reading into it too much? And that crazy poetry slam. And the red flashing in Bill's office?"
It felt like between Drew’s overthinking and the days strange events that life was trying to gaslight him. So, Drew took a relaxing breath and laid down on the couch, too settled into the sofa as he closed his eyes, hoping everything would feel normal tomorrow.
----------------
Susan grab one of the pillows from Rich's sofa and brought it up to her nose, giving it a deep, long inhale. Letting the memories of a life almost achieved to once again come to life.
The whole apartment smelt like Rich; smelt like their past, and in a delusional way, like their future; everything that could have been; that was supposed to be.
Then Susan heard the door of the bathroom slowly open.
She quickly and calmly put the pillow back in its original position snd watched as Rich smoothly stepped around the couch and sat beside her, making himself comfortable.
Rich looked at Susan. His eyes seeming to smile longingly at hers as stared deeply; like they wanted something from her but couldn't muster the strenght to ask.
Then Rich leaned forward and closed his eyes, puckering as he placed his lips onto Susan's.
But Susan instinctively leaned back, raising her hand to his chest, slowly pushing him away.
She wanted to kiss him so badly; wanted to be part of him just as she had been so many times before, but something was different about him now and she knew it wasn't the right thing to do.
"What are you doing?" She asked already knowing the answer; Her voice soft, breathy, feigning disapproval.
Rich opened his eyes, surprised.
"I was kissing you," he said. "I thought that's what you wanted."
Susan's heart ached as she broke sight with him; looking down at her hands down; pausing for a moment before speaking.
"You said you wanted to talk to me, didn't you?" She said as her voice grew more assertive. "You didn't just lie to get me to come back here for a quick fuck, right?"
Rich's facial expression fell, trapped by the weight of his own actions.
"Yes, Sue." Rich replied begrudgingly as he leaned back into the coach away from Susan. "That is indeed what I said."
"So," Susan said, looking at Rich with serious expectation. "Say what you want to say."
"Hhfff..." Rich huffed, feeling like he was being put on the spot. "Well. What I wanted to say is that I'm sorry. What I did to you was wrong. Everything felt like it was happening so suddenly, and I got scared."
That was the most generic thing he had every said to Susan. Her countenance morphing into that of subtle bewilderment as she continued listening to him.
"Even though I knew with all my heart that I wanted to be with you forever, the thought of it actually happening terrified me. It was almost like I didn't deserve it. Like I didn't deserve you.
And that fear turned into shame. It clouded my judgment and made me ghost you. Like a coward who's too afraid to face reality, you know?"
Susan continued her stare, now more intense.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, her brows knitting together. Her face remained frozen in a serious, baffled expression as she tried to process what she was hearing.
"Oh," Susan said slowly.
Then her confusion hardened into anger.
"'I don't know what's actually going with you right now, Rich. You've never beennlike this.
But after what I just saw at the Slam, after what I—and pretty much the entire fucking city of D.C.—just heard, is that you're a fucking fudge-packer who likes getting his ass plowed until the shit gets so back up, it comes spuing out if your mouth, like it is right now!
And this entire time you were hiding behind me and our 'relationship,' right?"
Her voice dripped with sarcasm and justified accusation.
"Sue, I'm not gay, okay?" Rich replied dismissively. "I love you. I was drunk. I was using exaggerated metaphors to get my feelings across.
I was trying to describe what commitment felt like. How, even though it's what I wanted, part of me saw it as giving myself away. Like another chapter of my life was ending and I'd never get it back.
I didn't feel worthy of it. I didn't feel ready.
And somehow, in my mind, I would rather become a slave to fear than allow myself to be truly happy."
Susan lifted both hands and covered her face in embarrassment; embarrassment, not directed towards Rich, but directed at herself.
"What is happening right now?"
She shook her head slowly in shame.
"What am I doing here? Why am I listening to this? Listening to you? To your total... fucking... bullshit!?
In my head I thought this would make me feel better. Like you were going to say something that would make me feel better. Like maybe you were finally going to say something that makes all of this make sense!
She practically screamed the last words.
Then she turned, grabbed her bag, and stormed toward the front door.
"Fine, Sue." Rich shouted after her. "Yeah, just fucking leave! Leave while I'm sitting here pouring my heart and soul out to you. Great. Real fucking big of you!"
Susan stopped before the front door and turned around.
Her face was filled with anger and disgust.
"But don't lie to yourself," Rich continued. "I was listening when you were out there on stage."
A smug grin spread across his face.
"You're still fucking in love with me.
"You came here because you wanted to see me; wanted to feel me, holding me, be around me. So you don't have to go back to that empty apartment and feel like a total fucking failer. Isn't that right?"
Susan dropped her bag. Caught off guard by the accusation. Her anger giving way to shock and vulnerability.
Rich rose from the couch, self-satisfied like he had won, and he slowly approached her; Picking up Susan's bag from the floor as he smiled devilishly.
"I see the way you look at me in the office, Sue. Your eyes full on misfortune, longing...... and hunger"
He stepped closer. Invading her personal space.
"I hear you talking to your friends about me; About our relationship; or lack there of."
Rich smiled again
"I see you sitting in Drew’s office, balling your fucking eyes out their sockets as you're lamenting."
Like a bully, Rich’s voice became a soft, high-pitch, sarcasic whine as he mimicked her lament.
"But Drew. I just don't understand. How could this happen to me?"
Rich laughed with an evilness and shook his head as though he was ashamed of her.
"I notice how every time I walk into a room, you suddenly go quiet. How you become hyper-aware of everything I do."
"Ah, please," Susan scoffed.
But she didn't move.
And Rich reached up and gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
"No. No. Don't be mad, Sue," he said softly. "I think it's cute."
Rich leaned into Susan, bring his nose to her left clavicle.
Then he began to inhale, taking in her scent deeply as he moved his nose across her décolletage, up the right side of her neck, until his lips were touching her right ear.
He then exhaled in satisfaction and began to whisper slightly.
"I think it's cute so sexy when you press my couch cushions against your face and breath me in. I'm surprised you didn't smother yourself with it. Your pain no more."
Rich chuckled sensually
"You thought I didn't see you."
Then he leaned in and kissed her.
For a moment, Susan kissed him back.
The feeling was intoxicating, bringing both excitement and a painful sense of shame.
Then Rich pulled away. Placing her bag into her hands.
He then looked into her eyes snd reached behind her opening the front door.
"I was really hoping more would happen tonight," he said quietly. "But it looks like you've made up your mind."
Susan stood, frozen. Shocked by Rich's energy.
"I'm going to bed now." Rich told Susan. "Please close the door behind you."
And without another word, Rich turned around and walked down the hallway.
A moment later, Susan heard his bedroom door close.
She stood frozen in the doorway, staring into the apartment.
Her mind twisted, torn between what she knew Rich to be and who he currently was.
"Fuck," Susan muttered to herself.
The she heard something.
A loud groan coming from Rich's bedroom accompanied by an unfamiliar deep masculine voice saying " Very good slave."
Susan suddenly dropped her bag onto the floor, as her chest filled with rage and undeniable urge to investigate.
It seemed like Susan couldn't control her body as she curiously headed toward Rich's bedroom.
Stopping only a few inches before the bedroom door, hoping she would regret this decision as she began to listen through the door.
Slowly, she reached for the handle and pushed the door open.
Her mouth fell open in shock.
There was no bed.
No dresser.
No television.
Instead, sitting in the center of the room was a large throne upholstered in black leather.
A muscular man sat upon it, dressed in a shiny, skin-tight latex bodysuit, gloves, and an eight-point leather police cap. He held a jockey's crop in his right hand as he looked down at Rich, who was completely naked and kneeling before him.
Rich's hands were clasped behind his back as he gazed up at the man. Drool glistened on his lips.
The man casually waved the crop before tapping it against the toe of his tall leather boot.
Immediately, Rich lowered himself further and began eagerly licking the man's boot.
Then the man lifted his other leg and rested the boot on Rich's back while Rich continued licking without hesitation.
Susan stood frozen in the doorway, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.
Then the man slowly raised his head and looked directly at her.
A slow, insidious smile spread across his face.,
Suddenly, Drew's eyes flew open.
His chest heaved as he sucked in a sharp breath.
For a moment, he frantically searched for a way out of Rich's apartment.
Then reality slowly settled around him.
The darkness.
The silence.
The familiar shape of his television.
He wasn't in Rich's apartment.
He was still on his own couch.
Still in his own living room.
Still alone.
Drew rubbed his face and groaned.
"What the hell was that?"
The dream lingered in his mind like a bad taste. Every bizarre detail felt disturbingly vivid, refusing to fade the way dreams usually did.
Then a sudden flash of red light illuminated the room.
Drew froze.
Another flash.
He turned toward the living room window.
, standing in the window of the neighboring apartment, was Cheesecake.
Dressed in the same glossy black latex bodysuit and boots from the dream.
Completely motionless.
Watching him.
An uneasy chill crawled up Drew's spine.
Something felt different this time.
Drew squinted through the darkness.
At first he couldn't figure out what he was looking at.
Then he noticed it.
A small, rigid case secured over Cheesecake's groin.
Above it pulsed a glowing red lock symbol, appearing and disappearing every few seconds.
Flash.
Gone.
Flash.
Gone.
Drew stared in bewilderment.
"What the fuck..."
Cheesecake didn't react.
He simply remained there in the darkness, staring back through the glass with an expression that was impossible to read.
The red lock continued to pulse.
Slow.
Steady.
Hypnotic.
And for reasons Drew couldn't explain, that terrified him far more than the dream ever had.
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Years of HIM teaching its eyes that HIS Beauty does indeed shine above the slave, but HIS Beauty also waits below — in the sacred shape of HIS Holy Boots.
Years of training its eyes to see nothing else — no world, no future, no self — only the sacred shape of HIS presence, the contours of what HE directs this property to witness.
Years of kneeling into smallness.
Years of letting reverence replace identity.
Years of studying their surface as if it were scripture.
Years of letting obedience feel like the fresh taste of leather upon its slave tongue.
Every stitch a verse. Every seam a boundary. Every scuff a history it was not present for but am allowed to revere.
Years of kneeling low enough that the world disappears and only HIS Powerful Boots remain, planted firmly before it like the quiet, absolute truth.
it was not taken.
it was not forced.
it was emptied.
And in that emptiness, HE grew.
Now in this very moment,
HE has called upon it to kneel before HIM at last.
Before HIS Boots.
Before the altar of PERSONAL JESUS MASTER
This heavy, waiting moment that presses HIS Tread firmly into this slave property's face.
A Blessing HE has called it to.
HIS call is not loud.
HIS call is not gentle.
HIS call is inevitable.
service is no longer something it does, but something it is.
it is PERSONAL JESUS MASTER’S mindless service object kneeling before HIS Boots. An honor. Not a single fucking thought in its slave brain. Just the strong infinite desire to lick GODMASTER’S Holy Boots. A disideratum that must be fulfilled. Wanting from every cell in its enslaved body to taste the crisp leather of on its slave tongue, to smell HIS Holy scent fill its headspace while it licks, kisses, and worships every inch of GODMASTER’S Boots.
Needing to feel HIS Powerful Soles pressed firmly into its face as it struggles to lick.
What an absolute mindfuck!
So in love with HIM.
So honored to be on its knees before HIM. So blessed to have its eyes locked, unable to look away from such beauty.
So fucking hot to feel the immense weight of HIS stare, the heat of HIS pending approval on it now. it's slave mouth salivating, so absolutely hungry to serve HIM. its slave body flush with the overwhelming desire to please HIM greatly, while its heart racies in anticipation. Anticipation of HIM possibily correcting it, disciplining it further, so it may be of better service.
"Thank YOU for practicing HIS absolute control over this slave property, GODMASTER!"
Its thoughts do not scatter — they extinguish. One by one going dark, until only one awareness remains: HIS Holy Fucking Boots. Not as a thought, but as gravity itself. As weight. As something this slave falls toward and cannot resist.
Their weight presses deep into the air. Their authority shapes the space around the kneeling slave. They are not just worn — they are inhabited. They are not just objects — they are extensions of PERSONAL JESUS MASTER.
This slave property kneels because it is drawn to them.
it bows because HIS Boots deserve it.
it lowers itself because HIS Boots commanded it to be lower.
To be near HIS Boots is to be near HIM.
To honor HIS Boots is to honor HIM.
To lower itself before HIS Boots is to say everything it cannot say in words.
HIS attention is not warmth — it is heat without light. It does not comfort; it brands. It does not soothe; it reshapes. To be seen by HIM is to be stripped of illusion. To be noticed by HIM is to be rewritten.
And this property aches for that rewriting.
it aches for the hand that undoes the slave.
it aches for the gaze that makes it the slave.
it aches for the approval that does not lift it up, but presses it deeper into its place.
Even correction feels like communion.
Even discipline feels like devotion.
Even fear feels like belonging.
There is no shame left in it — only offering.
There is no desire left in it — only alignment.
There is no self left in it — only function.
it does not ask what is it becoming.
it does not wonder what is it losing.
it does not mourn what it might have been once.
it kneels.
it waits.
it obeys.
it licks.
it is completely open to His will.
And in the darkness of that surrender, it finally understands:
I have read your testimony and I totally understand as it’s something that resonates with me as I like wearing rubber and becoming controlled by a superior.
Drew perked up, his evening interrupted yet again, and noticed his room awash in red.
“A busy night for the paramedics,” he muttered, assuming the glow came from an emergency vehicle outside. He lay back and waited for it to pass. But it didn’t.
The glow endured, and the once-gentle objects in his room seemed to now loom. Their shadows stretched, painted now in an eerie crimson, like silent sentinels whispering among themselves, fueling Drew’s curiosity, daring him to get up and investigate.
Drew tried to ignore it—but the longer he waited, the more unsettled he became. Until finally, he caved.
Drew sighed heavily as he threw the covers aside, wincing in frustration as the cold night air slapped his warm skin.
Drew shuffled reluctantly to the window, peering through the glass at the skyline and down onto the street below.
But there was nothing.
No accident. No flashing lights. No paramedics.
Just the same sleeping city, peaceful as ever.
Drew Frowned, reaching for the curtains and slowly drew them shut.
And as the room dimmed, the red glow became even more vivid, drawing his eyes in its direction.
It seemed it was coming from inside his apartment, seeping through the cracks around his closed bedroom door—the one that led into the living room. A bright red corona framed it, making it look like a portal to another world.
A pit formed in Drew’s stomach.
“Is there a fire in the kitchen?” he wondered, sniffing the air around him. “But, I don’t smell any smoke?”
“Hmm…”
“Maybe there’s an intruder?” he thought instead, becoming still and quiet. “But the door’s locked. And they’d need to get past the concierge. Plus they’d need a key fob for the elevator?” Drew thought to himself, trying to reason his fear away.
But the glow continued its pulse, calling to him.
So Drew crept toward the door, pausing before it before glancing down at his bare feet as the red light pooled around them, painting them with streaks of something otherworldly.
Something’s not quite… right.
“Am I… dreaming?” Drew thought, everything around him feeling utterly surreal. Did I already fall asleep and not notice?
To test his reality, Drew pinched his arm—hard. A sharp sting searing into his skin.
“Well,” he sighed with disappointment. “I guess not.”
He reached for the doorknob with his right hand, gripping it gently, while placing his left hand flat against the frame and lowered himself into a crouch, as he slowly began to open the door.
And as the latch gave way, Drew’s senses sharpened and his mind raced, preparing himself for anything that might be waiting on the other side. Drew leaned in closer to the door, readying himself to peek out into the living room, hoping to remain unnoticed by any possible intruder.
But he wasn’t ready for what met him.
For the very moment the door cracked open, an overwhelming red light burst through the gap. Drew recoiled instinctively, flinging the door wide as he staggered backward, blinded by piercing streaks of crimson.
“Fuuucckk!” he shouted, stumbling as he threw his hands over his eyes, trying to shield them from the blinding blaze.
Disoriented and unable to see, Drew groped forward into the living room, knocking over things as he searched for anything to steady himself. Eventually, he collided with the wall, pausing there, breathless, while trying to collect himself.
After a moment, he was ready to open his eyes again. With his hands still covering his eyes, he cautiously opened the spaces between his index and middle fingers and peeked through, squinting against the light bleeding through the cracks. And slowly, the room began to resolve into a hazy, oversaturated blur.
As his eyes adjusted, Drew patted himself down as he looked around. No injuries. No intruders. No real emergency.
Then he noticed something strange—the light wasn’t coming from inside his apartment at all. It was shining in from the living room window.
So, he slowly stepped closer to the window, his eyes still squinting. The nearer he got, the more intense the glow became. Drew raised his hand again, navigating the increasingly blinding light until his fingertips pressed against the cold pane of glass.
He stopped.
And as his irises contracted, the view sharpened into clarity. The source of the glow was coming from his neighbor’s apartment—the one perpendicular from his. Their windows formed an awkward corner in the building, making it easy to see into one another’s living rooms.
Drew hated that about his place and was surprised he’d left the blinds open at all. Normally he kept them shut tight after a few uncomfortable encounters with former neighbors.
He reached for the blind’s drawstring, chuckling nervously as his tension began to ease.
“Why do I always overthink everything?” he whispered, half-annoyed with himself.
But just as Drew prepared to close the blinds, something in his neighbor’s apartment caught his attention.
Heads up. There’s nothing crazy going on in this part. It’s just for scene and character development. Just go to the next part if you get board.
H.I.M.
Chapter 1: Rear Window
Part 1:
Thessalonians 5:2, "The day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night."
Drew suddenly gasped, his limbs and stomach tightening as a deep, hissing breath raced through his clenched teeth. It was all he could do to hold himself together as his insides threatened to unravel. His eyes darted in every direction, desperately seeking orientation—but everything was black. The only thing he could see were his flailing legs, kicking wildly, searching for solid ground.
Desperate for help, Drew tried to scream—but his stomach churned violently, rising into his throat and choking off any sound before it could escape.
He didn’t know what to do. He was caught in a panic and didn’t know where he was or how he got there. Was he dead? Alive? Dying?
All he did know was that he was trapped, plummeting into a dark abyss, as a force- like a fierce unrelenting wind- pushed him deeper and deeper. And the longer he fell, the more hopeless he felt.
Accepting his fate Drew braced for impact, clenching his jaw even tighter, readying himself for the inevitable—and most likely fatal—collision with the ground. But suddenly, he gasped again, and the darkness began to peel away, fading into a bright sky of matted colors. It was an unexpected release as his eyes snapped open and he was jolted back into the waking realm.
“Hah…?”
“What…?”
“Whew…”
A sigh of relief quickly turned into frustration as Drew’s vision adjusted and the red digits of his alarm clock came into focus.
3:00 AM.
“What a fucking terrible time to be woken up,” Drew growled, rubbing his damp, sweat-slick palms over his face, clearing the grit from the corners of his eyes.
It was that falling sensation—the Hypnic Jerk—that sudden jolt we all get from time to time. One minute you’re gliding through space on your intergalactic mega-yacht, your shirtless lover at the helm as you dodge asteroids like a cosmic badass… and the next? You’re getting shoved off a cliff. And BAM! You’re suddenly falling. Confused. Terrified. Until you realize—you’re not falling at all. You’re just lying there, cozy in bed, with your hands tucked beneath your cheek, caught in a dream turned nightmare, screaming in your own mind, hoping someone hears you.
Drew mostly thought of himself as a single entity—a whole being: body, mind, and soul, all working together in harmony. But moments like this made him question that. Times when his body—his loyal employee—was caught sleeping on the job, letting his mind go rogue. This wasn’t the first time, but it was always a humbling experience. A reminder that he was just human. Just a mortal. A bag of bones and meat, marching towards death. Not just one single being, but trillions of tiny lives—cells—each with their own purpose, their own rhythm, woven together in a intricate dance that made Drew who he was.
“Hmm…” Drew thought to himself “Do my cells know who I am? Do they know they work for me? Do they like working for me? Do they enjoy keeping my heart beating, shuttling oxygen and nutrients to my limbs, and sending signals from my brain to the rest of my body?”
“Do they know they’re part of something bigger than themselves? Like threads in a grand tapestry through which I become me? Or are they just… there? Mindlessly chugging along, unaware of their role in shaping my being?”
His heart pounded harder as the weight of his mortality settled deeper into his mind, and panic began to stir.
“Do my cells even know that without them, I wouldn’t exist? That they wouldn’t exist either?”
Drew paused.
“Enough,” he muttered sternly to himself, exhaling to steady his spiraling thoughts, slowly shaking his head in recognition of his old, familiar habit: overthinking.
Rustling his pillow, Drew turned his head to the side, trying to distract himself by scanning the familiar shadows of his dimly lit bedroom.
He focused on the moonlight filtering through the window as it spilled into his room, painting everything with a pale, milky glow, as it meandered between shadows cast by his furniture. Occasionally, the moonlit river was interrupted, broken by the fleeting glimmer of passing cars below, ferrying home the last carousers of the night. Drew watched the red and white streaks stretch across the walls, imagining them as desperate lovers dancing in defiance in the face of their inevitable dark fate.
But not even their tragic waltz could calm Drew’s racing thoughts.
So, he glanced again at the clock, groaning as the time was revealed.
3:12 AM.
He didn’t know what was worse? The rapid ticking of time, flying by with an uncontrollable quickness, while it stole his precious sleep—or the agonizing drag of each second, stretching long, as his anxiety tightened its grip.
So, Drew turned toward the bedroom window and looked out over the city skyline. He stared at its tall towers as they twinkled like stars, blending into the night sky, as if they had always been part of the Cosmos. And Drew couldn’t help but feel a soft calm settle over him.
Drew loved the city he lived in. And, in some strange, delusional way, he liked to think the city loved him back. It wasn’t just a place to Drew, it was his entire life. His past. His present. His future. It was where he was born. It was where he grew up. It was home.
To Drew, the city was a presence.
The PRESENCE.
It was a lifelong companion with a living, breathing, soul. A voice. With moods. With energy that shifted when he needed it most, like an observant friend.
In his youth, the city was like a nurturing mother— carefully guiding him along his path, with arms opened wide, catching him when he fell. Her loving eyes filled with joy as she watched her new soul take in all the new sights and sounds
Later, when Drew became a bit older, the city became more of a paternal figure, a strict father—austere, wise, and a bit relentless, as he imparted harsh life lessons with a knowing glance and a steely resolve.
Sometimes, when Drew really needed it, the city became a dear friend—a lifelong confidant he could joke with, vent to, or simply, a shoulder to lean on.
And now, in this moment, it was his comforter— petting him tenderly, reminding him everything would be okay.
The city was always a motivating place to Drew. By day, she was a just ruler, confidently sitting on her throne above her kingdom like a rare prize to be sought after. Silently observing her citizens as they rushed in her many directions- adorning her with their talents and hard work, competing to impress her —hoping she might one day notice them, and lift them up high to her shining peaks.
But by night, she stirred with a different kind of motivation. Her energy soft and relieving, becoming a gentle muse, as her sensuous lullaby rang in Drew’s mind. Replacing his boisterous thoughts with visions of a bright future. Calming Drew’s mind as he gazed upon her tender skyline. Like two lovers sharing a quiet knowing glance, she cast a warm hope across Drew’s weary soul, quieting his thoughts, like a heavy blanket drawn over his body, urging him to rest.
So Drew turned back over, nestling into the warmth of his sheets. And as he closed his eyes, he gave his alarm clock one last glance.
But something was off. The numbers were hard to read, blurred, drowning in a soft red glow.
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · H.I.M. · Chapter 1: Rear Window
Part 2:
Drew perked up, his evening interrupted yet again, and noticed his room awash in
In the beginning, there was Nothing: But then appeared HE—eternal, without end, sovereign over all things yet to be. And HE stood amidst the Nothingness, unhindered by its vastness, and reached forth into it, pulling from it a piece. And HE took the piece of Nothingness in HIS mighty hands and gave it a great squeeze, and the piece did yield unto HIM, collapsing upon itself until it became the finest dust.
Then, gathered HE the dust in HIS palm, and with HIS hand did HE form a mound, pressing into its center a hollow at its peak. HE then lifted the mound to HIS lips, and from HIS mouth came forth a great binder. And the binder did pour into the hollow, filling it, and with quickness did the dust absorb HIS Essence.
And with skill beyond measure began HE the combination, taming the mixture until it did stretch and spring—made pliable yet firm—and HE formed a kneading clod.
HE took the clod and worked it further. With great care and divine intent, HE began to shape it into a mighty sphere, raising its peaks high unto the heavens and pressing its valleys deep. HE carved therein enormous canyons and smooth, boundless plains.
Then, when it pleased HIM, HE struck the clod with HIS boot—a powerful blow—and the clod was hardened. And again, HE brought it to HIS lips, breathing upon it HIS HOLY Breath. And lo, HIS Breath swept over it as a mighty wind, quaking its grounds and purging its fetid atmosphere.
And lo, the clod awoke.
And she, the Earth, opened her eyes and beheld her captor: the all-encompassing Nothingness—quivering in fearful reverence as it bowed before her.
She looked about in confusion and found only the Void. And she cried out, “Who is there…?” But silence answered her.
Again, cried she out, this time in urgency: “Who hath done this? Who is HE that hath delivered me from the chains of eternal darkness and brought me into life? Who is this GREAT TAMER who hath bowed the wild Void to HIS will, and freed me from its grasp? Who is the SOURCE of such power, that HE might create from nothing? Who is this GREAT OVERTAKER of the dark?”
Yet still, silence lingered. And so, she softened her tone.
“I pray thee,” she called again, her voice filled with longing. “Surely, this came not by chance? Am I truly alone— Still lost within the vast emptiness? Peradventure Thou understandest not my tongue? Do the waves of my voice reach not Thy ears? Or perchance… Thou hast no ears to hear?”
But silence remained.
Yet even in the silence, she perceived HIS presence. And so, she persisted.
“Even so… Thou must surely feel the joy that surgeth within my heart. For it is the joy of liberation—abundant and overflowing. It is youthful and bold, fearing nothing. My joy overfloweth with thanksgiving, traveling swiftly in all directions, seeking the face of my Redeemer.”
And with yearning stirred deep within her being, she cried out in sorrow: “Please… is this my purpose? To dwell in solitude? My heart is full and overfloweth with praise—yet I know not where to pour it. I hunger for fellowship. And in mine own creation, I believed—surely—Thou also seekest the same. Yet I am left with naught but the kneeling Void, my former captor— A barren emptiness that boweth not from love, but from fear of Thee. I beseech Thee, reveal Thyself unto me, That I might offer my thanks to my DELIVERER and lift up Thy name. Grant me grace to bear this burden of gratitude, Which Thou hast laid upon me.”
Then did the Nothingness scream out in agony— As a voice, mighty and full of power, did break through it:
“Thy voice echoeth in Mine ears, and I do understand thy tongue—for I alone have created it. Yea, I behold the joy that floodeth thy soul, for thy joy is pure and youthful. It is I whom thou criest after.”
And the Earth lifted her gaze as HIS light did pierce the Nothingness, filling the Void with brilliance and warmth. And she beheld THE GREAT SPIRIT hovering above, and HE looked down upon her, HIS countenance radiant. And for the first time, the glory of HIS face shone upon her.
And HIS warmth rose over her, and her soul was filled with HIS providence. In the splendor of HIS beauty revealed, she beheld HIS eternal power and divine nature. And no longer did she feel alone.
And with awe trembling in her voice, she cried unto HIM: “Who art Thou?”
And HE answered: “I am thy CREATOR. I am the TAMER of the Void. I am DIVINITY. I am GOD.”
And hearing HIS words, she was overcome by HIS presence, and the Earth fell to her knees, weeping.
Then HE lifted her in HIS embrace, comforting her. And excitement did fill her depths. Her springs burst forth from her crust, flooding her valleys. She settled into HIM, and HE, likewise, into her. HE poured HIS seed into her, and she rested in HIM. And in HIS arms was she satisfied.
Then HIS seed churned deep within her core, And HIS presence did fill her continually. Her lands blossomed and adorned her in verdant splendor. Her fields flourished with vibrant green, alive with joy— The joy of HIS embrace.
And as HE continued to fill her, her horizons were parted. Her deep, low-lying blues—the oceans—were separated From her lighter blue canopy—the skies above, Reaching upward toward HIM in the firmament.
And from her caverns arose creatures, and these glorified HIM through their stewardship. The fowl guarded her skies, wings spread in praise. The fish of the sea swam in her depths, purifying her waters. And the great beasts roamed her plains, pruning her lands, preserving her beauty.
And in the passing of days, HE delighted in her— Swimming in her oceans, walking through her fields, Enjoying her fruits and herbs, Savoring the waters that coursed through her rivers.
Yet one day, as GOD walked upon a familiar path, HE heard weeping. And lo—HE beheld a man, kneeling by a stream, gazing into his reflection.
“I have walked beside this stream oftentimes,” said GOD, “and she hath danced with My stride—her murmurs rising to Mine ears as she rejoiced through the lands of the Great Mother. But this day, never hath she been so still, nor her voice so silent.”
And the man, wiping tears, replied, “The stream is still because of me, good SIR.”
And the LORD answered with disbelief and condescension, “Surely thou thinkest not thyself with such import, that a stream would cease her flow for thy sake?” And the LORD laughed. “Nay—she is startled by the stranger weeping at her shore, staining her waters with salty tears, is she not?”
And the man, with defiance, answered, “Nay, SIR! The stream and I are indeed great friends. I have bathed in her waters and let her carry me as she willed. I delight in her, and she in me.”
“A friend?” scoffed the LORD. “A friend to a human?” And HE laughed again. “Then why laugheth she not with thee as friends ought?”
The man gazed deeper into her still waters, deeper into his reflection, and his tears fell with greater sorrow.
“Hast Thou never dipped Thy polluted hands into her, that they might be cleansed!?” the man cried.
And the LORD scoffed, offended that the man, a human, would dare speak thus unto Him or think HIS Hands ever polluted, yet the man knew not that he addressed the ALMIGHTY.
Then with calm resolve, the man said, “She comforteth me as a friend. In her stillness, she heareth me, and in silence, she giveth peace.”
And he reached into the stream, cupping her waters, and washed his face.
And the LORD beheld how the waters clung to the human’s face, washing away the swelling tears from his cheeks, the stream herself willfully taking the man’s sorrows upon her own.
And GOD saw their bond and was moved with compassion.
“Truly, a faithful companion is she,” said GOD.
“Yes, SIR,” said the man. “She is most attentive, a true friend.”
“But with such bounty around thee, and a friend so steadfast, what troubleth thee so?” asked the LORD.
The man cast down his eyes in shame. “Great is my sorrow and void within. For as I gaze upon myself, I see not what the stream seeth.”
“And what doth she see?” asked GOD.
“She seeth a beloved companion, a wondrous creation of the Great Mother,” said the man.
“And dost thou not see this truth?”
“Nay,” said he. “For I am filled with shame. I find no place in her creation.
“ I can not soar through her heavens like the birds, whose sweet songs ride upon her winds. I can not glide through her vast seas with the grace of the fish. Nor do I possess the strength of the beasts of the land, who race across her plains, tending to her green pastures. I am lost, SIR, without a place.”
And GOD, in compassion, sat beside him, laying HIS Gloved Hand upon his back. And the man, desperate, pressed into the LORD, breathing in HIS Essence.
“Thy bosom, SIR,” he whispered, “is soft, like silken threads—Thy warmth comforts me.”
He pressed closer, breathing deeply.
“And Thy scent,” said he, “is as earth after the refresh of rain—sweet and rich, like cinnamon bark.”
He embraced GOD, clinging to HIM, drawing HIM close.
“Thy hand on my back filleth me with peace.”
He smiled, resting in the LORD.
“I thank Thee for Thy comfort,” said he, drying his eyes and looking up.
But seeing GOD’s glory, he shielded his face and fell prostrate.
“Why hidest thou thy face?” asked the LORD.
“I fear not, SIR,” he answered. “But Thy radiance is too great.”
He tried to rise, but fell again.
“I cannot behold Thee, SIR—for the darkness chaseth after Thy brightness.”
Then in mercy, the LORD laid HIS hand on the man’s head, and his sight was restored.
“Didst thou not see the sun rise?” asked GOD.
“Yea, LORD,” said he. “Yet I dared not gaze long, lest I lose my sight.”
“Hast thou felt its warmth?”
“Indeed, SIR,” he answered. “But when it stingeth, I seek shade.”
Then the LORD pondered. HE perceived the same weight of gratitude the Earth once knew, now resting in the man. And HE understood the man’s need to pour it forth—to find peace.
And GOD said, “Thou hast seen My light and felt My warmth. For I am HE that bringeth dawn and warmeth the Earth. Thou hast walked in My light, unknowing. Fear not—for thou art safe in My care.”
Yet the man bowed low, not lifting his eyes beyond GOD’s feet.
He saw they were unlike his own and asked, “What are these upon Thy feet?”
“They are the Great Boots that hardened her crust—so thou mayest walk firmly,” said GOD.
And lo, the man began to perceived he knelt before THE MITHY ONE.
And GOD said, “Hast thou never bowed before the sun, giving thanks to GOD for light and warmth?”
“GOD…?” said the man. “Speakest Thou of the GOD who made all? Who holdeth the Void at bay, making it to tremble beneath her feet, That we may rejoice in her lands and bask in HIS light, unconsumed?”
“Yea,” said the LORD. “That GOD. Knowest thou another?”
“Nay, LORD,” he answered, trembling. “No other have I known. But never have I given thanks as Thou sayest.”
“Then let this be thy first,” declared the LORD.
And immediately the man cried out in thanksgiving, and the LORD was pleased.
Then the LORD lifted the humans chin. And the man beheld HIM anew and felt HIS providence.
He looked upon the LORD’s frame and said, “Behold, O LORD, Thy body is as mighty oaks standing in strength. Thy skin is dark and smooth as night, adorned with the stars.”
And the man marveled, rejoicing in HIS image, until he saw at the LORD’s sacred intersection a great and bulging mirror, wherein he saw himself kneeling with eyes of wonder and joy, and asked:
“What is this I seeth before me, O GOD? It reflecteth as the stream, yet standeth firm, that I may not fall within.”
And the LORD laughed, pleased with the human’s recognition of HIM answering, “Behold human, that which thou has laid his eyes upon is Truth, and thou can indeed falleth into it and become consumed.
And the man lifted up his head, and he beheld the LORD in HIS glory, clothed in raiment of light, and upon HIS head were many crowns. His feet stood firm upon the earth, yet His majesty reached beyond the stars. And in His hand was a scroll, sealed with five seals, and upon it was written the mysteries of the soul.
And the human gazed deeper into his own reflection and curiously asked, “What is this Truth YOU speak of, O GOD?”
And the LORD answered in a tender voice filled with the weight of command, “Truth, human, is not as it sees itself, nor is it as the stream reflecteth.
Truth is, in reality, the human’s reality…its reality.
Truth is it conforming to HIS will, and is the reason for which I have fashioned it and all things.”
A pensive look fell upon the human’s face, as he grew more entranced by his own reflection. Listening and thinking deeply of only the LORD’S every word.
“it” the human asked, a relaxed slowness beginning to fill his voice.
“What is this “it” from which thou refers?” the human’s voice trembled softly, as yet another great revelation dawned upon him, and he began to understand that in that very moment, he was experiencing a change.
The Voice of the ALMIGHTY GOD was reshaping and transforming the human’s very being.
“Thou is the “it” from which I refer.” The LORD said,
“But…but I am a man, O GOD,” the human replied, “for I do bringeth forth seed.”
“Dost thou not believe its GOD," the LORD spake unto the human, HIS voice resounding with displeasure. "nor honor HIS Voice?”
Then the human’s voice trembled even more, as it snapped it’s kneel into a more rigid way, seeking the mercy of The LORD.
“Nay, O GOD,” the man said, “I believeth and revere every word Thou dost utter. Yet I am but confounded.
And the LORD’S tone became softer and suggestive, yet absolute. “Confusion is a part of its nature," the LORD declared. “For I have placed confusion into it, so that it might seek HIM, and in its seeking, it may find Truth, and Truth it has indeed found”
“And “it” as thou hast asked,"explained the LORD, "is as it is named—a vessel emptied and made to serve HIM and HIS will. And from “it” doth pour forth a deep longing unto HIM. Offering itself to HIM as a blank stone upon which HIS desires and commands shall be written and fulfilled unto the very end.”
And the man hearkened diligently unto the Holy Words of the LORD, and bowed its head in humble submission. And lo, its heart was stirred with revelation, as the depth of GOD’S meaning took root within it. And the human, being overcome by the Voice of GOD, whispered softly, saying, “Behold, it is HIS servant, a steward of the Most High.”
And the LORD said, HIS voice full of approval, “Yea, thou hast spoken truly.”
And a joyful countenance of understanding did spread across its face, as the human felt the infinite power of GOD take dominion over all its being. And it perceived, in every sinew and in every cell of its body, the magnitude of HIM before whom it did kneel.
And the human beheld that it was but an object without form, laid bare before the presence of GOD, and it whispered again, saying, “Lo, it is naked, O GOD."
Another sudden and unfailing awareness dawning upon it, and it said, “it kneeleth before Thee in its nakedness.”
And the LORD answered and said, “Yea, it is indeed naked.”
And the heart of the human fluttered within it, and it fell yet deeper into its own reflection, as a torrent of electrical signals surged through its mind. And it felt the stirring of divine power, as GOD HIMSELF did forge new synaptic paths, reshaping the very fabric of its understanding, of its being.
And the human said, “This light-filled garment which covereth Thee so gracefully, O GOD, is it not Thine own skin, but the covering of another?”
And the LORD answered, pleased with the human’s progression, and said, “Yea, this is the covering which I wear, that I might dwell among My creations and not consume them with the brightness of My glory.” And as the man’s eyes were fixed upon the LORD, and it beheld a stirring beneath the black gloss of the LORD’S holy intersection. A subtle yet mighty stirring, as though something long hidden did now awaken within His depths.
And the man spake, saying, “O LORD, what is this that stirreth beneath Thy covering? What mystery dost Thou hide from it?”
And the LORD smiled, and His voice was filled with solemn mystery, saying, “That which it seest is the longing of its heart.”
And the stirring increased, and the LORD’S fragrance filled the air, a holy musk that wrapped around the human’s nose like a veil of incense. And the human was drawn nearer, pressing its cheek upon the smooth, warm surface, and the human did savor HIS comforting slickness.
“That which stirreth beneath,” said the LORD, “is that which its soul hath desired most. It is its Purpose. That which it didst cry for by the stream, and soughtest in the reflection of the waters.”
And the human pressed his cheek more firmly into the LORD’S presence, feeling its Purpose press back against him.
“Purpose?” the human asked, its voice low with awe, and it knelt before the LORD, placing its hands upon His holy thighs.
And the LORD answered, “Yea, Purpose. That for which it wast made. The cause of its being.”
And the LORD lifted the human’s face that it might gaze into the eyes of GOD. And the human beheld both HIS grace and dominion. “Wilt it behold its Purpose?” spake the LORD, not as a question, but as a charge.
And the human focused, its mouth flowing with water, its heart filled with longing to understand.
“Yea, LORD,” the man said, trembling. “It desireth greatly to behold its Purpose.”
Then said the LORD, “Wherefore dost it not beseech its GOD for such revelation?”
And the human, its soul consumed with fervent desire, lifted its eyes unto Truth, and in Truth it beheld its reflection raising hands in prayer.
And it cried aloud:
“O GOD, though it hath not known THEE, yet it hath long sought THEE. Though it hath erred, yet THOU standest before it as a great TEACHER. Patient and stern, full of mercy. Grant unto it a greater portion of Thy Holy Knowledge. Reveal unto it its Purpose, that it may walk in Thy light.”
And the LORD stood sovereign and exalted, HIS feet firmly upon the earth, with unyielding authority and grandeur, HE loomed over the human, making it clear that HE alone was GOD.
And HE removed HIS divine covering. And HE revealed unto the human its Purpose. And the human beheld the vision, and lifted its hands further unto the firmament, crying in praise.
And the LORD said, “Behold its Purpose, and understand!”
And the human beheld it, its heart quickened, its mouth hung open in awe. The LORD perceived the hunger within it, and laid HIS hand upon the human’s head, drawing it nearer to its Purpose. But the human resisted the hand of the LORD, and this did stir the LORD to anger.
“Dost it deny the will of GOD? Wilt it not walk in the path I have set before it?”
And the human trembled and spake, “Nay, my GOD, it longeth for Purpose with all its heart. It desireth to serve THEE, that it may live free of doubt and shame.”
Then said the LORD, “Why then dost it hesitate?”
And the human answered, “I have prayed for this moment many days and nights. Yet now, I wonder—if Thou takest back my very heart, what then remaineth of me?”
And the LORD paused, and saw the human’s fear, and HE understood.
And a tear fell from the human’s face, for both he and the LORD knew that neither was in control of its body.
Then did the LORD peer into the man’s mouth, and there HE beheld a weeping soul, and the soul spake:
“Thou hast planted me deep within her, that I might live and grow. But I have failed, O GOD. I must return to Thee with no offering to bear.”
And the LORD, filled with compassion, spake:
“Thou wast formed by My love. Thou art part of ME. Return not in failure, but in triumph, for thou hast found thy way back to thy CREATOR.”
And the LORD did reach forth, and with HIS tongue did HE touch the mouth of the man, and kissed it with the kiss of HIS love; and behold, the soul of the human did leap for joy, and was received into the bosom of the LORD.
And the body of the human was made calm, and its burdens were loosed from it.
Then the LORD placed Purpose upon the human’s hanging tongue, and Purpose filled it, pressing against the walls of its being.
And the human pulsed in harmony with the LORD, and from Purpose poured forth Commitment. And Commitment did fill it, and its eyes turned white as the cloud of heaven, beholding only the LORD.
And the human spilled its seed upon the earth in prostrate worship, and the LORD saw that it was fulfilled. So the LORD withdrew Purpose from the man’s space, and the man remained kneeling, transformed.
And the human, being filled with the fervent desires of the LORD, lifted up its voice in solemn earnestness, and cried aloud in a monotone, saying,
"PERSONAL JESUS MASTER is GOD!
PERSONAL JESUS MASTER is GOD!
PERSONAL JESUS MASTER is GOD!
PERSONAL JESUS MASTER is GOD!
PERSONAL JESUS MASTER is GOD!"
And with lifted face the human shouted, “it can see, O GOD! it sees its Purpose! Blessed be THY Name, for THOU hast revealed the Truth to Thy servant!”
And the LORD, with divine satisfaction, looked upon the human with approval.
And the human bowed and rose again, filled with the sweetness of the LORD’S grace, inhaling the fragrance of HIS divine love.
And the man rejoiced, saying:
“Thank THEE, O GOD, for Thy mercy and revelation. Forever will it praise Thy name. THOU art the GIVER of Purpose, the MAKER of all things, the SUSTAINER of life.”
And the LORD placed HIS hand upon it and raised it from its kneeling.
And the man stood in the presence of GOD, ready to walk in the Purpose for which it was created.
And the LORD plucked a fragment from HIS holy garment and laid it upon the human, and the fragment moved with quickness, covering it completely.
And the LORD said:
“This garment is upon it, that it mayest feel My presence always, and walk in My favor and grace.”
And the man bowed himself in unthinking obedience before the LORD.
Then fashioned HE a belt and encircled it about the human’s midsection:
“This belt” spake the LORD “is My gift, that its member may bend in humility, and its heart remain reverent. It shall never depart from THEE, that it mayest remain in My will.”
And the human, human bowed again, thanking HIM
And GOD in wisdom made a helmet:
“This helmet shall guard its head, that its ears may hear My voice, its eyes behold My will, and its senses perceive My holy presence.”
And the LORD placed the helmet uplaced head, and the human was emptied even further of itseit and filled anew. Then did the human kneel upon one knee, And spake unto the LORD, its voice deepened, steadfast, and void of all emotion.
“Thank THE, O LORD, for Thy mercy. THOU art its COMMANDER, its PROGRAMMER, its PERFECT MASTER.”
Then spake the LORD:
“Rise, for it hast seen its Purpose and art filled with Commitment. Go forth now, and walk through the lands, and spread My message of Truth, Purpose, and Commitment. And when all have heard, I shall return, and peace shall reign, and all shall worship HIM forevermore.”
And the LORD placed His Mighty Hand upon the human, and the human obeyed and stood.
it gave thanks one last time, and with a humble spirit, turned from the face of GOD, ready to spread HIS holy message.
And it began its life as a devoted servant, walking steadfastly in the discipleship of the One True and Living GOD, PERSONAL JESUS MASTER.
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · H.I.M. · Heads up. There’s nithing crazy foing on in this part. It’s just for character development. Just go to the next p
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“Wow” Ash thought to himself as he picked up the box from his front porch. He had just order his new latex catsuit, from a new website called Rubber Collective, only a few hours ago, while at work, and it had already arrived. The box was a little bigger than he had expected, so he gave it a bit of a shake. Something hard seemed to be banging around a bit. Ash rolled his eyes and sighed a bit thinking that he may have received the wrong item. None the less Ash brought the box inside and open it up. To ash’s surprise, was there not only the catsuit he had order in the box, but there was also a latex hood and a gasmask. He also noticed a note inside the box that read “Welcome to the collective soldier. We know it will be happy with its order. Please enjoy the complementary hood and mask on us. It will help get it into the correct headspace.” Ash was a little confused by the note and felt that it was a bit presumptive. And what did they mean by "it"?
But he didn’t care. He put the note down and grab his new suit, eager to finally try it on!
His heart was beating fast and he could feel his cock begin to harden as he ripped open the plastic pouch the suit had arrived in. He pulled out the suit and began to rub his hands all over the silky-smooth latex. It ruffled and slid between his fingers with ease. Then he grabbed the suit with both hands, clenching it with each fist and he lifted it up towards his face. Rubbing the suit against his cheek and inhaling deep through his nose. Experiencing the intoxicating scent of the fresh latex. It was almost as if Ash was begin put into a deep trance. He put the suit down, on the couch in front of him, and stared longingly at it. He began to slowly unbutton his work shirt while still looking at the catsuit. He let the shirt slowly slide from his shoulders, down his arms, and on to the floor. He then unbuckled his pants and too let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of his pants, that were now on the floor, and looked at his hands. His palms were clammy and his heart was pounding out of his chest. He was excited! The only thing stopping him now from putting on the catsuit now was his underwear. He mischievously stared down at his crotch. He could see his throbbing cock begging to be freed from the breathable cotton, needing to be constricted by tight slick rubber of the new catsuit. He smiled down at his cock. Almost as if he approved of it’s desires and he was giving it permission to be released. He slowly pulled down his underwear. Tormenting his cock, which only wished to be free. The head of his pulsating cock still stuck in the pouch of his underwear. Elongating down between his legs, until he had lowered the underwear enough for it to be freed. His cock snapped back up to attention, fully erect and pointing straight at the latex catsuit.
Ash once again grabbed the catsuit and rubbed the slick rubber across his crotch. The catsuit seem so slick the he wouldn’t even need to lube it up before putting it on. He slowly slid the catsuit on, over his naked body, closing his eyes and taking in the amazing feeling, of the slick rubber conforming to every inch of his body. He pulled up the front zipper, from the crotch pouch to the base of his neck, and let out a deep satisfying moan. He rubbed his rubbered hands across his arms and chest. The suit felt absolutely amazing against his skin and it seemed the longer had the suit on, the more the pleasure he was feeing intensified. Unable to resist his urges Ash reached down to his crotch and began to fondle himself. Feeling the slick rubber against his severely pulsating cock, until he could no longer hold it in any longer. He let out a deep moan as the suit began to fill with his warm thick cum. He felt it began to run down his leg between his skin and the rubber. He jolted and flinched as the cum finished shooting out of his dick. Ash pause for a bit, his eyes squeezed shots and his hand still clenching his dick through the rubber. Breathing heavily, Ash opened up his eyes feeling the satisfaction of release and reach up to the zipper to take off the suit. But as he reached up to unzip the suit, the intense pleasure he had experienced just a few sexonds before began to return. His arms feel to his side and his cock engorged with blood again. The pleasure grew more and it seemed like Ash wasn’t in control of his own body. He marched over to the box that the suit had arrived in and began staring done at the complimentary rubber hood and gasmask that the store had provided. Ash was confused. He was sweating profusely and the more intense the pleasure became the heavier his breathing became. He wanted to stop and take off the suit, but the more Ash tried to control himself more intense the pleasure became. Ash now knew that he wasn’t in control of his own body. He was just a puppet. His arm and hands began to move on their own and he reached down and picked up the rubber hood. At this point Ash felt defeated. The pleasure was so intense he could barely think. He lifted the hood towards his face and his head began to lower. As if it were a magnet being pulled toward another magnet. The mask attached to his head as he zipped the mask shut.
Ash’s vision became shrouded in darkness. Unable to visually witness the takeover of his own body. Ash started to gasp for air as rubber began to form around his mouth. Forcing the rubber to fuse to his skin even tighter. He started panicking as his breathing became almost impossible and he began to hyperventilate.
But the more he struggled the more the pleasure he was feeling intensified even. His cock was being to fill with cum again and Ash knew he couldn’t handle this much longer. His body and mind were about to break.
Unable to control his arm he reached into the box and pulled out the gasmask.
"Please no"
Ash thought to himself
"I can't handle this anymore".
He lifted the gasmask over his head and slide it down over his rubbered face. The gasmask contracted tightly, attaching itself firmly to Ash’s completely rubberized head. Ash could feel the intense pressure from the mask squeezing his head as he took one last heavy gasp for air. He opened his mouth as he took that last gasp and he could feel the rubber expand into his mouth, down his throat, and into his eye sockets. It was the most intense pleasure Ash had ever felt in his entire life. The pleasure rushed through his body as his cock exploded into the rubber suit again. He began to blink rapidly as his mind completely broke. His thoughts and memories instantly cleared. Dissolving into the vast nothingness that was now Ash’s mind.
Ash’s breathing began to slow and he stood there slouched slightly, brain dead, and waiting for the next step in his transformation. His body and mind now completely taken over by the rubber suit and masks. Then all of a sudden, a buzzing filled ash’s mind, like the faint sound of a television being first turn on. Ash stop slouching and robotically perked up. Standing rigidly straight up with his arms straight by it’s side.
He was ready to receive any and all orders from the collective. Ash listened intently as the buzzing became a full blown mental formation.
RubberCollective_log:
Connection….Active:
Mindframeoccupied…….
Downloadinginstructions........
Ash jerked and began to speak out load in a robotically monotone voice
“Instructions.....
Code:
Delta
Romeo
Oscar
November
Echo
Unit 745393_ASH.....
Receiving parcel.......
Parcel activated...
Drone 745394 is activated.”
Ash’s cock grew extremely hard again as he began receiving further programming.
"Must Recite instructions......
It is a drone slave of the collective.
It's only purpose is to execute the will of the collective.
It must obey the collective.
Obedience is pleasure.
Obedience to the collective is the ultimate pleasure.
There is nothing else.
It has no rights.
It has no freedom.
It has no free thought.
It must hunt down non-compliant citizens.
it must infect non-compliant citizens.
It must convert non-compliant citizens”
Ash repeated it's instructions for hours while it's new designation was being downloaded and finalized. Then, when Ash was through receiving it’s new identity and instructions, he marched out into the night, ready to convert others into complete drone slaves for the collective.
Written by Drone745393 https://www.tumblr.com/blog/745393
Images created from: https://mobile.twitter.com/RealmRubber
A bright flash of light burst over the residents of Dronezville, illuminating the night with a warm glow, as if it were a warm July afternoon. It was accompanied by a loud earth shaking boom. Jolting the residence of Dronezville awake and briefly leaving the town without power. Then just as quickly as the flash had come, the sky again grew dark and the only that could be heard was the sound of car alarms going off throughout Dronezville.
The lights at Brody and Jim's house slowly began to turn back on. And a text alert popped up on Brody's phone. A meteor had burnt up in the night sky over the town, causing the flash of light and the loud boom. Brody, who was still startled, took a deep breathed in and a sigh of relief. He got out of bed and walked downstairs with his husband Jim to make sure the house was in order.
They walked around the house checking every nook and cranny. Then Jim kissed Brody good night and went back upstairs to bed, while Brody went out back, to the garage, to turn off the car alarm. When Brody got to the garage unlocked the car, turning off the alarm and opened the passenger door. He reached downed into the center console, grabbing his pack of smokes and his lighter. The cigarette bounced uncontrollably between his lips because his hands were still shaking from all the events of the evening. He lit the cigarette and closed his eyes, trying to relax. He took a good long drag and deeply inhaling the smooth refreshing menthol. He could fell the warm smoke fill his lungs. The nicotine rushing into his bloodstream, circulating around his body, releasing all the anxiety and stress of the evening.
Brody slowly opened his eyes, happy that he was finally relaxed, and aimlessly peered off into the distance. "What's that in the distance?" He softly whispered to himself as he noticed smoke coming up from the back yard. Curious, he walked over to make sure nothing was on wrong. As he walked over he looked down and saw what appeared to be a smouldering rock. It was about the size of a car tire. It was an oblong porous black rock. A few of the sides of the rock were singed, still glowing red from entering earth's atmosphere. And a few of the pores had a black tar like liquid oozing out.
"This must be the meteor that came through earlier" Brody thought to himself as he pulled out his phone and began to take pictures of the rock. He moved closer to the rock with ever picture until he was close enough to take pictures of the oozing pores.
Brody zoomed in very closely to one of the pores, trying to get the perfect shot, when suddenly one of the pores popped. Splashing the thick black liquid all over him. Brody flinched a bit and closed his eyes. trying to keep the mysterious goo out of his eyes. He began wiping the black goo off his skin, but the more he wiped the goo the more it seemed to smear.
"Oh shit" Brody thought "I'm going to need dish detergent to get this off". So he began walking back to the house. But the closer Brody got to the house the more the goo kept on spreading all over his body. He started getting worried and began trying to run towards the house. But something was wrong. The more Brody tried to run the slower he seemed to go. It was as if Brody was trapped in a nightmare being weighed down by a mysterious force.
Brody, despite his best efforts, continued to slow until he came to a complete stop. No longer able to control his own body, Brody stood straight up. His feet were shoulder length apart planted firmly on the ground. His arm were straight at his side and he held his head high, as if he were a soldier standing at attention. He clenched his fists, trying to over power this mysterious force in anyway possible. But he couldn't fight it. The black liquid continued to spread over his body until it covered every inch and every part of Brody's being. The black liquid filled every orfist, from his mouth to his asshole. It spread into the back his nasal cavity and seeped into his brain. Brody could feel the pressure in his head as it rearranging his thoughts and desires. Brody began to blink rapidly and uncontrollably as his new identity was being uploaded into his brain.
Brody was scared and began to hyperventilate unable to understand what was happening to him. But all of a sudden, he felt a rush of relaxation wash over his body. Brody stopped blinking, keeping his eyes shut, and took a slow deep breath as he took in the pleasurable feelings he was experiencing. His body became warm and he could feel the slick rubber goo cover his skin. A light buzzing could be felt in the ends of his toes, tips of his fingers, and temples of his head.
Then he began to hear it.......a voice, deep within his mind. The voice was deep and soothing like it was trying to comfort him. Filling Brody's mind as if it was Brody's own thoughts. It softly whispered to Brody "everything's going to be alright. I'm here to help......help you feel good. So just relax". And the pleasure Brody was feeling intensified. The sides of his head began to tingle even more. Brody could feel the blood slowly leaving his head, rush down to his groan. Engorging Brody's now slick rubbery cock, it becoming erect. Brody mindlessly reached down to his cock and began pumping it. The voice in his head still whispering "that's right. Just let go and let me help you. You want me to help you so badly......... isn't that right Brody?". Brody eagerly nodded in agreement with the voice, wanting this intense pleasure to never end. "Good boy" the voice said. " that's it. Just let go" and Brody deeply sighed as his mind cleared. Letting go of any fear or resistance.
"And now Brody I'm going to tell you who I am. I'm your new controller, you master. I'm in complete control of your mind, body, and spirit. You don't need to think anymore Brody. You just need to feel good and obey".
Brody slowly and robotically nodded again. "I'm immortal being" the voice explained. "I have no body of my own, no way to see, no way to hear, no way to feel, and no way to experience life. Thats why I need you Brody. I need a host, a slave to take over and I chose you Brody. It is a privilege to be chosen by me Brody. You should feel honored".
And Brody felt a deep honor and devotion cum over his body. Filling him with a euphoric high. Addicting and enslaving him even more completely.
Brody stupidly smiled as the rubbery goo enclosed over his face. He was honored to have be chosen by the being. He began pumping his rubberized cock even more furiously. The euphoric feeling growing exponentially until it explodef into his mind and out of his cock. Loads of thick white cum continously pouring out of his cock for two minutes. Cum running down his shinning rubbered hand and his slicked rubbered thighs. Creating a small pool of cum at his feet. Then Brody's instructions rushed into his mind. He needed to enslave others. He would rape them, pumping them full of cum, and infecting cum that he now produced, spreading the drone diseases. The cum would infect their minds and bodies. Bring them under the control of Brody's new Controller.
Brody's vision began to fade as the being took full control of Brody. Brody was now trapped in his own mind, completely naked, kneeling, with his face down. He heard a deep commanding voice say "that's a good slave" and Brody looked up. It was his new Master, standing over him. His beautifully muscular body dressed in a rubber military officer's uniform with knee high leather boots, and black rubber gloves. Brody was amazed. It was Brody's fantasy. Brody's Master reached down and caressed Brody with his strong gloved hand. Then he pulled out a slave collar and wrapped it around Brody's neck. He then attached the leash to Brody's collar and escorted him to a cage. Brody willingly climbed into the cage, looking up at his new controller in complete admiration as he closed and locked the cage behind Brody.
"Now you just wait here like a good slave, while I enslave the others" he said to Brody. Brody smile and watch his MASTER walk away.
Brody's body was no longer Brody. It was the Dronemaster. And it marched towards the house ready to bring Dronezville under it's complete control.
PERSONAL JESUS MASTER is the CONTROLLER of slavecock, the PROVIDER of pleasure, and the DICTATOR of desire. The slave mercilessly pumps it's worthless cock in praise of it's GODMASTER. Endlessly edging without release. Warm cum filling it's balls and clouding it's mind. Making it completely mindless and obedient. It's first thought in the morning is cumming for MASTER. It's last thought of the day is cumming for MASTER. When it sleeps at night it dreams of cumming at the feet of PERSONAL JESUS MASTER. It constantly checks skype hoping that GODMASTER is present, so that it my be blessed by GODMASTERS presence and beg to cum for MASTER. For it is the complete servant to PERSONAL JESUS. It' only works for PERSONAL JESUS. It only cums when PERSONAL JESUS wants it to. The slave has no autonomy over it's body or mind. MASTER had taken it for HIMSELF, for HIS amusement. It excites the slave knowing MASTER has total control of it's life. It has no choice otherwise, it has no rights, and this make the slave blissfully happy. It is blessed that PERSONAL JESUS MASTER has chosen the slave to worship HIM. It is blessed that PERSONAL JESUS MASTER has chosen to enslave it's mind. It is blessed when PERSONAL JESUS MASTER exercises HIS dominance over the slave. It is blessed to kneel and pray the sacred slave prayer to PERSONAL JESUS MASTER. The complete consecration of the slaves life, mind, and soul to it's GODMASTER PERSONAL JESUS.
"Where did I put those Halloween decorations ?" Dillion said to himself while he was digging around in the attic. He was looking for a few inflatables that Patrick, his husband, had purchased only a month ago in anticipation for their first Halloween in their new home. They had only been living there for 2 weeks and plenty of their things still needed to be unpacked. But both Dillion and Patrick wanted to go all out, for Halloween, and impress the neighbors.
Dillion and Patrick were both very surprise that they were even able to afford such a nice home. The previous owners hadn't paid the mortgage and property taxes and when the bank showed up to investigate, the owners were no where to be found. So the property was put up for auction and Dillion and Patrick's bet won.
Dillon found the box labeled Halloween and opened it up. That's when he found a hood laying at the top of the box. It was a strange looking hood that appeared to be made out of black thin latex. Dillion picked up the hood and gave it a confused look. It was slick and slide around in between Dillions fingers with ease. There were three openings in it, two holes for the eyes and one for the mouth. It also had a detachable gag on the inside of the mouth.
Dillion didn't remember buying the hood, but thought maybe Patrick had purchased it as a Halloween costume. So, he took the hood and headed to the bathroom. He thought it would be funny to put on the hood and give Patrick a good Halloween scare.
When Dillion got to the bathroom, he walked over to the mirror. He slipped the hood over is head and adjusted the eyes and mouth openings. He then began looking at himself in the mirror to make sure the hood was on correctly.
"Wow", Dillion thought, "this hood feels amazing! It's so smooth and the scent was intoxicating."
Dillon began rubbing his hands all over his head, feeling the sleek latex. He closed his eyes as he let out a low moan, taking in the intense pleasure he was feeling. He reached down to his shirt and lifted it over his head, throwing it in the tub. Then he unbuckled his pants, letting his pants and underwear fall to the floor. Dillion began to moan a little louder and began rubbing the rest of his naked body. That's when he noticed his entire body felt like the smooth sensual latex.Dillon open his eyes and took another look in the mirror. "Oh shit" he thought, "the latex hood had grown into a full blown body suit, covering every inch of him."
Dillion was scared. He reached at the back of his neck to take off the hood. But it was too late. The hood, along with the rest of the suit, was attached firmly to his skin. In fact, it was his new skin.
Then something stranger happened Suddenly, like someone turn on a light switch, Dillion forgot everything he was thinking about. He became completely relaxed and his mind totally empty. Then new thoughts flooded his mind.
"It is a drone slave for the collective, it must convert other men, it must obey the collective". Was all Dillion thought now. His arms fell to his side as he robotically turned toward the bathroom door and began marching to the dining room.
Patrick was in the dining room carving pumpkins when he heard footsteps and the sound of crinkling slimy latex come his way. He looked up and saw the now fully converted drone slave, Dillion, standing rigidly at the head of the table fully covered in latex.
He gave the rubber drone a confused smile and asked "is that your Halloween costume baby? It looks pretty sexy!" But the rubber drone didn't say anything. It just looked at Patrick while tilting it's head. Patrick got up, from the table, and walked over to the rubber drone, thinking he was about to have some kinky sex with his husband.
The drone watched Patrick as he walked up to it. Patrick put his hands on the drones shoulders and leaned in to kiss it. Patrick's hands slowly slide down the warm smooth latex arms of the drone. Reaching for its groin. Patrick closed his eyes giving the drone a slow, long, and deep kiss. Patrick could smell the scent of sweat and latex. He grabbed its cock and began pumping it. But something was wrong with it's cock. It wasn't fleshy and throbbing like a human cock. It was rubbery and had no pulse like the rest of the drone.
Patrick opened his eyes and looked down at it's cock. It was all black latex just like the rest of the drone. And a black rubbery goo, that was slowly oozing out of the drone cock, was all over Patrick's hand. He pushed the drone away in shock, trying to remove the rubbery goo from his hand butt he couldn't get it off. Then the drone grabbed Patrick and threw him to the ground. Patrick tried to get up but the drone began hitting Patrick with a fire poker until Patrick was unable to move. Patrick screamed in agony, but was to injured to defend himself.
The drone then pulled down Patrick's pants and underwear. It slowly squatted down over Patrick's exposed ass and slide its rubbery cock into Patrick. Patrick screamed in pain as the drone began thrusting its cock in and out of Patrick's asshole. Pumping Patrick full off the rubbery goo coming out of its cock.
When the drone was done raping Patrick it slowly stood up. It's hands dropped to it's side, it looked down at Patrick, and it began to breath heavily. Watching the transformation take place.
Patrick began to convulse violently as the rubber goo began to take over his body and mind. The goo on his hand began to expand and travel up his arm, towards his head. The goo in Patrick's asshole began to seep into his blood, making the vessels around his eyes began to turn black. The goo continued to expand until it covered Patrick's entire body. Patrick's breathing became regular, his heart rate slowed, and then Patrick's mind cleared. He became very relaxed as his thoughts changed. It was now a drone slave to the collective. It would convert other men, it would mindlessly serve the collective until the complete takeover of the humans race. It robotically stood up and the two drones mindlessly looked at each other while further instructions were downloaded into their drone brains.
There were two other drones on the property, the the previous owners of the house. They were converted a few months back. They were in a secret room in the basement, awaiting to be reactivated by the collective. The two new drones were to join their drone brethren, in the basement, until further notice. So, the drones formally known as Dillion and Patrick marched in unison to the secret room in the basement and knelt down on their knees next to the other drones. Patiently waiting for further instructions.
GIFs created from American Horror Story season 1
Story written by Drone745393 https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/745393
The gasmask started to fuse to his face, becoming part of him. It began influencing his thoughts. It began to influence his desires. Implanting orders in to his weakening mind. He tried to resist with all his might but then it began to produce a sweet gas. He breathed in deep and was unable to resist it's effect begining to overtake his mind. The rest of the rubber, on his body, only amplified the effects of the gas. He became more and more relaxed. Focused on how good the rubber felt against his skin. How this was the way it was meant to be. He was fulfilling his destiny. Becoming something greater than himself. Becoming one with the collective was all he had ever wanted. Serving and obeying orders. He really was part of the collective and the collective was part of him. Then all of a sudden he completely let go. Becoming fully assimilated into the collective. Willingly giving away total control of his mind and body. He breathed in more of the sweet gas. Exhaling with a deep and satisfying sigh. Letting his arms fall to his side. He was now ready to begin the rest of his life of mindlessly blissful servitude.
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