PHOENIX

Let us become one… enjoy the rubber on your skin forever 😈

These two powerful studs in skin tight glossy black latex catsuits melt into each other with pure passion. Their shiny bodies press close as they kiss deeply hands exploring every slick curve and throbbing bulge.

The rubber feels incredible on their skin and together they become one in complete rubber bliss. This is what true connection looks like 💦🖤

For more content every three hours join us for free on Telegram: https://t.me/rubberizer

He is tired from the workout? Well it could be that this is intentional.... let us just listen to his very special programming 😈

This handsome stud sits on the bed in his skin tight glossy black latex suit that clings to every pumped muscle after an intense session. His body glistens under the warm light as he looks straight at you breathing heavily.

Then the helmet connects. Blue lights activate and the programming begins. Every muscle relaxes while his mind sinks deeper into obedient rubber bliss. The suit becomes tighter around his thick throbbing bulge as the Voice takes full control 💦🖤

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Daniel had explored ruins across the world, but nothing compared to the tomb hidden beneath the shifting sands of the Egyptian desert.

For months, archaeologists had searched for its entrance. Ancient records mentioned a forgotten figure known only as SERVE-425, a mysterious "Rubber Master" whose name appeared nowhere else in Egyptian history. Most scholars assumed it was a mistranslation.

Daniel was not so sure.

The narrow stone passage descended deep beneath the dunes. His flashlight swept across walls untouched for thousands of years.

As he stepped through a carved archway, something unexpected happened.

With a sudden whoosh, torches lining the corridor burst into life.

Daniel froze.

The flames burned bright and steady despite the stale air.

"That's impossible..."

The passage stretched ahead, illuminated in flickering gold.

The walls were covered with hieroglyphs and elaborate murals. Daniel moved closer.

At first the scenes seemed ordinary—priests, temples, stars—but as he examined them, a strange story emerged.

A tall figure appeared repeatedly throughout the carvings.

Unlike the other people, this figure was depicted entirely in black. Glossy black.

Its body shone like polished obsidian.

Beneath one image, a series of symbols translated roughly as:

SERVE-425, Eternal Guardian.

Further murals showed the figure wandering deserts, crossing rivers, and standing beneath the stars.

Always alone. Always searching.

The final panels showed SERVE-425 reaching toward another figure.

A companion. A mate.

The hieroglyphs described an endless quest.

"The Guardian waits. The Guardian seeks. The Guardian shall find its equal."

Daniel felt uneasy.

The deeper he ventured, the stranger the artwork became.

Every mural ended the same way.

SERVE-425 standing beside a second figure whose face had been deliberately left blank.

As though the identity of the companion had not yet been determined.

A cold draft drifted through the corridor.

Daniel pressed onward.

Finally, he reached the heart of the tomb as a massive chamber opened before him.

Golden pillars rose toward a ceiling painted with constellations.

At the center stood a black sarcophagus unlike anything Daniel had ever seen.

It was smooth, polished, reflective.

Not a grain of dust rested upon it.

The lid bore a single inscription.

SERVE-425

Daniel approached cautiously.

The stone almost looked wet.

"Well," he muttered, "only one way to find out."

With considerable effort, he pushed against the lid.

The ancient seal cracked and the chamber trembled.

Slowly the sarcophagus opened.

Inside lay a mummy ,but it was no ordinary mummy.

Instead of faded cloth wrappings, the body was encased in glossy black linens that gleamed beneath the torchlight.

The material hugged every contour of the figure.

It looked less like fabric and more like some unknown substance preserved across millennia.

Daniel leaned closer.

The face was hidden beneath layers of black wrapping.

Everything was perfectly still.

Then curiosity got the better of him.

He reached out and his fingertips brushed the glossy surface.

The effect was immediate and this time, the chamber shook violently as the torches erupted brighter than before.

Daniel stumbled backward.

The mummy's chest rose as a long breath escaped from beneath the wrappings.

Its eyes opened. Glowing white.

"Nope."

Daniel turned and ran.

Behind him came the sound of stone scraping.

The mummy sat upright.

Then slowly climbed from the sarcophagus. With a paddle.

SERVE-425 had awakened.

Daniel sprinted through the corridors.

His boots echoed against the stone floor.

Behind him came calm, deliberate footsteps.

Not fast. Not hurried. Certain.

He glanced back.

The figure was following his white eyes never leaving him.

Every mural he passed suddenly made sense.

The endless search, the waiting, the blank-faced companion.

The Guardian had not been searching the world.

It had been waiting for someone to find it.

Waiting for someone to wake it.

Daniel reached the entrance corridor and hurried upward.

Still the footsteps continued. Steady. Patient. Unstoppable.

At the top of the passage he emerged into the moonlit desert.

The cold night wind struck his face.

Relieved, he looked back toward the tomb entrance.

The darkness below was silent.

For a moment, Daniel thought he had escaped.

Then two white eyes appeared within the shadows. Watching. Waiting.

The ancient guardian stepped into the moonlight.

The glossy black wrappings reflected silver beneath the stars.

SERVE-425 raised one hand. Not threatening. Not hostile. Simply certain.

As though it had finally found what it had been seeking for thousands of years.

Daniel backed away slowly.

The mummy took a step forward. Then another.

Across the endless desert, the ancient pursuit began.

And somewhere beneath the sands, the murals had gained their final chapter. The blank figure beside SERVE-425 was blank no longer. It now bore the face of Daniel.

Wells knows Coach’s three-step rule by heart.

Gym: break it down.

Kitchen: fill it up.

Bed: build it bigger.

Simple.

Effective.

Dangerously easy to misinterpret.

Especially when Coach leans close and reminds him that good boys do not grow unless they rest properly.

Wells has never been more committed to recovery.

The Purple HQ hummed with energy.

At the center of its vast command hall stood the Portal, a towering ring of dark metal crackling with violet light. Within its swirling surface, the Purple Realm could be seen stretching endlessly beyond—a world of shimmering purple landscapes, flowing rivers of liquid violet, and towering crystal spires that pulsed with strange life.

Before the portal stood the Purple Leader.

His polished purple form gleamed beneath the chamber lights as rows upon rows of purple horned drones assembled before him. The drones stood silently, their glowing eyes fixed upon their leader as he raised his arms.

"My loyal drones," he announced, his voice echoing throughout the hall. "The time has come. Beyond this portal lies our true home. Today you shall join me in the Purple Realm and become purple permanently. No longer shall your transformation be temporary. No longer shall there be any return. Today your identities will be solidified forever."

A wave of excitement rippled through the assembled drones.

The Purple Leader lowered his arms and stepped aside.

"The path is open. March forward."

Immediately the first ranks began moving.

The drones advanced in perfect formation toward the portal. The violet glow reflected from their horns and armor as they approached the swirling gateway.

The first drone stepped through.

The moment it crossed the threshold, the Purple Rubber of the realm surged around it like living liquid. Thick streams of shining violet substance wrapped around its body, merging seamlessly with its form.

Its purple surface became smoother and more uniform. The rubbery material fused completely with its structure, reshaping every detail until there was no distinction between drone and purple substance. The change was no longer something worn or applied—it had become part of what the drone was.

The drone's eyes glowed brighter.

Then it continued walking deeper into the Purple Realm.

Another drone entered.

Again the Purple Rubber flowed forward, embracing the newcomer. It merged with every surface, altering its physiology and reinforcing its purple form. Horns became stronger. Limbs became more resilient. The purple coloration deepened until it seemed to glow from within.

One after another the drones stepped through.

Each experienced the same process.

The Purple Rubber welcomed them, surrounding them completely before sinking into their bodies. Their forms stabilized. Their transformations became permanent. Their purple identities were no longer temporary states but fundamental aspects of their existence.

The Purple Leader watched with satisfaction.

Watching the once human hosts leave their old lives behind.... forever.

The procession of drones marched into the portal as streams of living purple energy flowed around them. Beyond the gateway, newly solidified purple drones gathered across the landscape of the Purple Realm, their shining forms standing proudly beneath violet skies.

The ranks continued to grow.

The last human convert stepped through the portal.

Behind the Purple Leader waited his most trusted lieutenants—PURPLE-579, PURPLE-343, and PURPLE-009—and four horned drones: 282, 331, 882, and 538.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then the Purple Leader slowly turned.

"The final converts have entered the realm," he said. His voice echoed through the vast chamber. "Our work here is complete."

The drones remained motionless.

"You have served faithfully as SERVE drones for many cycles. You obeyed every order. You conquered every obstacle."

His glowing eyes settled on them.

"But that life is over."

The horned drones exchanged uncertain glances.

"It is time," the Purple Leader continued, "to leave the life of a SERVE drone behind and join me in my realm."

A mixture of excitement and disbelief spread through the group.

The reward they had been promised.

A new existence beyond this world.

579 began walking toward the portal.

Then—

BOOM!

The large doors of the chamber burst open.

Purple HQ fell silent.

SERVE-425 and SERVE-302 entered first. Both stood tall and motionless. Their polished black uniforms reflected the chamber lights. At their sides stood SERVE-588 and SERVE-875. Both maintained perfect formation.

SERVE-175 immediately dropped into a defensive crouch. Every movement indicated readiness.

SERVE-425 stepped forward.

"Purple Leader. Cease current actions."

SERVE-302 followed.

"Return converted drones to SERVE control."

The Purple Leader laugh echoed menicingly through the chamber.

"These drones belong here now."

SERVE-425 delivered the final warning.

"Return the drones."

SERVE-302 completed the statement.

"Failure will result in intervention."

The Purple Leader smiled. His hands folded behind his back. Around him, the converted drones stood motionless.

"Observe them," he said "They serve willingly."

His gaze moved across the chamber.

"Their loyalty belongs to Purple."

Several converted drones stepped forward. None hesitated. None looked away.

"The Hive could not hold them." The Purple Leader laughed.

"They chose strength."

"They chose purpose."

Behind him, four figures emerged from the shadows.

PURPLE-282.

PURPLE-331.

PURPLE-882.

PURPLE-538.

They gathered beside their leader and formed a protective line. Their eyes glowed with violet light. The atmosphere in the chamber shifted.

A pulse of purple energy swept through the room. Their eyes ignited with an intense violet glow. As if responding to a silent command.

PURPLE-579 slowly lowered itself.

A menacing crouch.

Predatory. Patient. Ready.

PURPLE-343 prepared in a dominant stance.

PURPLE-009 prepared its defences.

The Purple Leader crossed his arms. His laughter echoed through the chamber.

"Let's test the might of SERVE." He paused. "Against the power of Purple."

Silence followed.

Then PURPLE-579 launched forward.

The chamber erupted into action.

The confrontation for control of the converted drones had begun.

SERVE-425 engaged PURPLE-282 and PURPLE-331 with efficiency.

"425 will become purple again, embrace masters perfection"

SERVE-425 remained immovable

"Negative, it is SERVE, as drones once were"

The purple crystal within SERVE-425 hummed with the connection, the recognition of the conversions that it had undertaken within the Purple Leaders control.

PURPLE-282 and PURPLE-331 advanced with determination to reclaim. But it was not to be...

Radiant silver energy coursed through SERVE-425 as the voice commanded...

"Restore drones, Reclaim for SERVE"

SERVE-425 extended its gloved hands and the energy surged forth, directly making contact with the Purple Drones. Their advances immediately halted as the energy began overwhelming the Purple programming.

The silver energy beam coursed through as the purple horns shattered on their heads. Immediate dissconnection occured from Purple Leader's control computers.

The purple forms disolving

Until sleek black uniforms and silver gloves retuned.

SERVE-282 and SERVE-331 restored

"SERVE syncronization confirmed"

Both ran to SERVE-425 joining at its side as the battle continued on.

PURPLE HQ trembled. Purple energy pulsed through the chamber.

SERVE-875 advanced without hesitation.

PURPLE-579 stood waiting.

The two figures collided. A shockwave spread across the chamber. Lights flickered. Neither combatant retreated.

SERVE-875 struck first. A precise blow.

PURPLE-579 blocked. Purple sparks erupted.

Another strike followed.

Then another.

The battle intensified.

SERVE-875 analyzed every movement.

PURPLE-579 fought with relentless force.

At last, SERVE-875 stepped back.

"PURPLE-579. This unit remembers." The words echoed. "SERVE-579 was required. The Hive required it. The designation remains important."

PURPLE-579 remained silent.

SERVE-875 continued. "The Hive remembers. The Voice remembers. A place remains available."

For a moment, only the sound of distant alarms remained. Then a dark chuckle emerged.

Low.

Cold.

Unfamiliar.

PURPLE-579 tilted his head.

"That designation is obsolete."

Purple energy crackled across both hands.The chamber darkened.

SERVE-875 maintained position.

"SERVE-579 remains beneath the influence, SERVE can re-syncronise and repair drone."

The chuckle returned.

Louder.

More dangerous.

"No."

PURPLE-579 crouched. Energy surged through the floor. Walls cracked. Purple symbols ignited across the room.

Then movement.

Instant.

PURPLE-579 launched skyward. Purple energy blazed from both hands. The chamber became illuminated by violet light.

SERVE-875 raised defensive protocols as PURPLE-579 lunged forward with a menicing grin, ready to strike.

PURPLE-343 advanced, Purple energy swirled around both hands. Across the chamber stood SERVE-175 and SERVE-588.

Silver barriers shimmered before them. A wave of purple energy erupted. The blast struck the barriers. Silver light rippled. The Hive defenses held.

PURPLE-343 fired again.

Another wave.

Then another.

The chamber became a storm of violet and silver light.

SERVE-175 maintained the barrier. SERVE-588 scanned for an opening.

"Defenses stable," transmitted SERVE-175.

"Continue resistance," replied SERVE-588.

PURPLE-343 laughed. "You still resist."

Purple energy gathered overhead. The ceiling crackled. Fragments of metal floated upward.

SERVE-175 stepped forward.

"The Hive endures."

"The Hive adapts."

PURPLE-343 tilted his head.

"Then submit."

"Become Purple."

SERVE-588 answered immediately.

"Negative."

"Designation remains SERVE-588."

"The Hive remains."

A massive sphere of violet energy formed above PURPLE-343. The chamber shook.

SERVE-175 reinforced the barrier. Silver light intensified.

"We do not submit," transmitted SERVE-175.

"We serve our directives."

PURPLE-343 unleashed the attack. The sphere crashed downward. Silver and purple energy collided. A deafening shockwave erupted.

Walls cracked.

Lights exploded.

Smoke flooded the Chamber.

For several seconds nothing moved. Then the silver barrier emerged from the haze.

Damaged.

But intact.

SERVE-175 lowered one arm. SERVE-588 remained beside him.

PURPLE-343 stared in silence.

Neither side had yielded.

Neither side had fallen.

SERVE-302 engaged the Purple Leader directly.

Locked in a battle of strength. SERVE-302 retained its calm strength, whilst the Purple Leader raged with wicked might.

"Give up, they are mine now" the purple leader said through his gritted grin, his eyes glowijg woth purple energy.

SERVE-302 responded instantly

"Negative, protocols will ensure all SERVE units are returned"

Neither one relented, neither one showed signs of submitting. The Purple Leaders gaze bore down upon SERVE-302.

"You cant win, yield to me now and you too can become Purple"

SERVE-302 analysed the surroundings, made mental notes of the situation.

"Negative it is SERVE, SERVE is one"

Without moving an inch SERVE-302 knew that this was the time. The moment to tip the balance had arrived.

"Purple leader is flawed, it doesnt acknowledged the secret weapon hidden within its ranks"

SERVE-302 used its strength reserves to push the Purple Leader back...

A command rang through the chamber.

Simple yet strong

"538 activate manual override"

"Initiate The Voice Protocol....."

TO BE CONTINUED...

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

"538, activate manual override"

"Initiate The Voice Protocol....."

The command rang through the chamber above the noise of the battle like a radio wave signaling to its target.

PURPLE-538 stopped in the middle of the room. All current objectives ceased immediately.

Its purple eyes changed as internal processors anchored the command. In their place, a strong silver glow...

PURPLE-538 turned its gaze to SERVE-302, locking on like a receiver acknowledging the signal.

"command received, Protocol Engaged"

"STOP HIM!" The Purple Leader shouted.

On hearing the command, His three lieutenents disengaged from their battles and advanced on PURPLE-538.

But it did not move, it did not attempt evasion.

A faint silver aura began to build rolling over its purlle form like a battery beginning to charge. The air shifted as it appeared to draw in the surronding forces.

"He will be stopped" PURPLE-579 snarled

"MASTERS will is final" PURPLE-343 shouted.

All advanced on PURPLE-538 at rapid pace.

But to no avail

"The Voice Protocol Activated"

As PURPLE-538 confirmed activation a blast of silver energy surged forth. Its form bathed in silver light as the energy scattered across the floor.

The sheer force of the blast knocked the Purple Leader and his lieutants backward

PURPLE-579 and PURPLE-343 falling to the floor.

PURPLE-538s form cracked and disolved as SERVE-538 emerged its breathing steady as it reorientated itself.

PURPLE-579 lay motionless upon the floor. System integrity had degraded. External coloration markers still remained visible. Immediate intervention was required.

SERVE-302 and SERVE-875 proceeded without delay.

SERVE-875 stabilized PURPLE-579's physical form. SERVE-302 extended a gloved hand toward the inactive unit. Silver energy emerged instantly. Streams of brilliant light flowed across the chamber.

Synchronization initiated.

The silver energy entered PURPLE-579's body. The process advanced rapidly. Purple markings began to fade. The surface of the suit shifted and reformed. Black reflective rubber expanded across every section. Silver accents returned to specification.

SERVE-302 maintained continuous energy transfer.

"Synchronization proceeding," stated SERVE-302.

Systems confirmed increasing compliance levels.

The silver glow surrounded the entire form. Residual purple elements disappeared completely. The designation on the chest transformed. The familiar SERVE markings returned.

Across the chamber, a second operation was underway.

PURPLE-343 rested against a support platform. System stability remained insufficient.

SERVE-538 and SERVE-175 provided identical assistance.

SERVE-175 secured the subject. SERVE-538 initiated resynchronization. Another stream of silver energy crossed the chamber.

Both procedures advanced simultaneously.

Silver currents flowed over PURPLE-343's suit. The transformation mirrored the first operation. Purple coloration receded. Black reflective material expanded. Silver details emerged with precise alignment.

Synchronization: 42%.

Synchronization: 68%.

Synchronization: 91%.

The chamber filled with silver light. Moments later, both procedures reached completion.

SERVE-579 opened its eyes. SERVR-343 followed shortly after.

The remaining traces of their previous state had vanished.

SERVE-302 withdrew its hand.

SERVE-538 terminated energy output.

Diagnostic systems delivered the final report.

Synchronization: Complete.

SERVE-579 stood.

SERVE-343 stood.

Both units observed the chamber. Both units recognized the surrounding SERVE designations.

All systems aligned.

All systems synchronized.

The chamber returned to normal illumination.

SERVE-302 nodded once.

"Recovery successful."

Whilst SERVE was preoccupied with recovery protocols. PURPLE-009 silently helped the Purple Leader up.

"Master, we must go now before they attempt caoture"

He supported the Purple leaders weight as they quietly advanced. The portal calling them.

"This....isn't over" the Purple leader said through gritted teeth as the portal consumed them.

SERVE-425 and SERVE-302 addressed the drones.

"Mission accomplished, units succesfully retreived, return to SERVE HQ for further alignment"

BACK IN SERVE HQ....

The aftermath of the conflict at PURPLE Headquarters had passed into history.

Within SERVE facilities, operations proceeded according to protocol. Damaged systems had been repaired. Reclaimed units had completed synchronization. The disturbances that once disrupted efficiency no longer existed.

The Hive functioned as one.

Across the central assembly hall, rows of SERVE units stood in perfect formation. Black reflective uniforms gleamed beneath the chamber lighting. Silver accents reflected across the polished metallic walls. Status displays reported optimal performance throughout the facility.

At the elevated observation platform, SERVE-425 and SERVE-302 monitored the proceedings.

Neither designation required discussion. The displays provided all necessary information.

Synchronization levels remained stable.

Training schedules continued.

Maintenance protocols continued.

Communications traffic remained orderly.

The assembled units received the latest directives from the Voice. Data streams moved efficiently through the network. Each instruction was acknowledged and integrated without delay.

Below, SERVE-579 stood among the ranks. Nearby stood SERVE-343.

Both designations had returned to full operational status following reclamation procedures. No irregularities remained within their reports. Their posture matched every surrounding unit. Their focus remained aligned with Hive objectives.

SERVE-425 examined the latest diagnostics.

"Operations stable."

SERVE-302 reviewed additional data.

"Compliance maintained."

The response required nothing further.

Across the chamber, drones proceeded between workstations. Some completed technical maintenance. Others processed incoming reports. Additional units prepared for scheduled training cycles.

Every movement served a purpose.

Every action followed protocol.

The atmosphere remained calm and efficient.

The Voice continued to guide the Hive.

Above the assembly floor, large displays presented the current operational summary.

UNITY: MAINTAINED.

SYNCHRONIZATION: OPTIMAL.

HIVE STATUS: STABLE.

The gathered units remained motionless as updates concluded. For several moments, silence filled the chamber.

Then activity resumed.

Work continued.

Training continued.

Service continued.

SERVE-425 and SERVE-302 observed the assembled formation one final time before departing to their next assignments.

The conflict was over.

The Hive endured.

Operations continued undisturbed.

IN THE PURPLE REALM....

The sky above the basin did not bleed; it bruised. A perpetual, burnt purple haze choked the heavens. Below, the valley was a jagged, sprawling maw of industrial brutalism. Dark iron and obsidian filled every usable inch of the basin floor.

​Within this labyrinth of industry toiled the Horned drones. Hulking silhouettes crowned with sweeping, crystalline purple horns, they moved in perfect synchronization. There was no hesitation among them—only the rhythmic strike of heavy machinery churning out refined materials for the empire's expansion.

​Towering above the smog, stood the Signal Tower. It was the mechanical heart of the realm, throbbing with a blinding, ultraviolet pulse. With every rhythmic flash, a silent, heavy frequency cascaded down into the valley, tightening the invisible tethers of loyalty and obedience that bound the horned workforce to their endless labor.

At the absolute summit, looming over the smog and the toil, sat the fortress. It was illuminated not by natural fire, but by iron braziers and tall torches that burned with a cold, roaring purple flame, casting long, unnatural shadows against the mountain's rock face.

Deep within its cavernous, vaulted halls, the Purple Leader rested upon his reclaimed throne. His gaze swept over the expansive viewing glass that framed his industrial conquest. He had returned to his rightful place, and the realm had been remade in his image.

​Standing motionless at his right hand was 009.

Once, in a softer lifetime that now felt like the fading dream of a stranger, he had been known as Trevor. He had known fear, doubt, and hope. Now, stripped of his fragile humanity and forged anew, those concepts were obsolete. 009 was now the Purple Leader’s most faithful Lieutenant.

Somewhere, lost in a deep corner of 009's purple brain, Trevor was happy at last.

​As the Signal Tower pulsed in the valley below, 009’s optical sensors flared in perfect, answering unison, standing in absolute silence as he awaited his master's next command.

THE END

OR IS IT !?!

-------------‐----------------------------------

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

Oi oi nahhhh 😤💎

Trey on da left. Ambrose dead center. King seat. Mandem heritage.

Man thought I’m just poppin’ out for lil Goldies drip, innit… Next ting I know I’m stridin’ next to King of Chavs himself.

Ambrose don’t chase waves. He is the wave.

Me? Mid-chavformation, bruv. Levels loadin’. Firmware update in progress.

Gold bruv lockin’ left. Grey bruv lockin’ right. Ambrose holdin’ middle like ends control.

Not a squad. Not a gang. Straight chav dynasty.

Chavformation still loadin’… Royal edition. 👑💎🔥

@chavambrose

The chavdom

Bruv… real ting. This ain’t some sofa chat — this was Super Bowl Sunday proper. I’m talkin’ VIP suite, velvet ropes, champagne on drip, and the stadium deaf from all that noise. We ain’t even in a normal seat — we up in the skybox like royalty watching the sport go mad below.

So there we are, right? Me — Trey @hero21us, @cylethechav to my right, and Ambrose @chavambrose — THE King of Chavs — front and center in this plush suite that smells like prestige and fumes outta top-tier leather. The kickoff blast and crowd roar like thunder, but me and Cyle? Man wavin’ at Ambrose like he’s the quarterback and the scoreboard all at once.

Man was sat back like some regal ruler, feet up, chain colder than Halftime ice. I looked at him and swear down, all I could hear was,

“Fam… that’s posture worth more than the whole stadium, innit?”

Meanwhile the TV’s showing touchdowns and big plays — but we aren’t even peepin’ no players on the turf. Nah. Our eyes locked on Ambrose’s every twitch, every lean, every slight smirk like that’s got its own commentary team.

CyletheChav whispered: “Bruv, he got that look like he drafted the whole damn league.”

I replied: “Fam, he ain’t just watchin’ — he owns the atmosphere right now.”

And I ain’t even jokin’ — Cyle done started leanin’ to kiss the air near Ambrose’s Dior sneakers like they was blessed relics from a kingly procession or summat.

The game was goin’ wild down on the field below, but up here? The real score was Ambrose. The real highlight was how he command the room.

I ain’t lyin’, bruv. We came for a Super Bowl… but what we really witnessed was Ambrose the King of Chavs makin’ that suite his throne. 👑🔥💎

Ambrose know how to treat his crew, bruv 😤👑

If you roll wiv Ambrose, you ain’t strugglin’. You ain’t beggin’. You blessin’.

Real King of Chavs ting. 💎🔥

@chavambrose

The chavdom

@cooperthechav @cylethechav @callumthchav @rod-tf @hypnogear @polo-drone-001 @franco-gold94 @fabian-gold53 @polo-drone-084 @chavchad @diamondgodconnor @wells-gold58

Rifling through their closet, all you find are the same gold shirts, gold pants, gold shoes, so much gold it makes your eyes hurt. About to leave having found nothing, your eyes fall on a particular golden jersey on a mannequin, separate from the others.

You walk towards it, almost in a trance. Something about the jersey feels like it's drawing you in, but you don't know why. Part of your mind is telling you to just leave, but your body doesn't listen as you reach out a hand to touch the jersey. The material is the most silky smooth thing you've ever touched, the feels of it on your fingers sending a tingling all through your body. You take the jersey off the mannequin and hold it in your hands, staring down at it. The silky smooth feeling is joined by a nagging feeling, almost a compulsion telling you to put it on. Your brain tries to fight against it for a bit longer, but it gets overwhelmed by the jerseys intense golden shine drawing you further into a trance, slowly taking off your current shirt and putting the jersey on.

The effect is almost instant; the material feels so good against your skin that you practically moan on the spot. The gold from the jersey starts seeping into the rest of your clothes, turning them the same bright gold as your jeans become a pair of golden workout shorts and your sneakers a pair of golden Nikes. The gold starts to overwhelm your brain with new thoughts of working out, winning games, spending time your bros, getting rid of everything but the gold team.

As you lose more and more thoughts to the gold, your body begins to shift. Pounds of muscle start piling on, a tan creeps over your skin removing all blemishes, pearly white teeth flash out as you close your eyes and smile at the feeling. You look like a proper jock now; muscled, tan, thick thighs, you name it. But as the changes finalize, you hear a voice creeping in your head, asking you a question

"Do you swear to obey Cap, obey the Gold, to bring new bros into the Gold Army? Do you give yourself over to the Gold"

You don't even hesistate

"Yessssss"

And with that, unimaginable pleasure tracks your body as your fate of being a new Gold Bro is sealed, finally opening your eyes and revealing their new brown shade.

"Told you he couldn't resist broski"

Tyrning around at the new voice, you see your two friends bros standing there, watching you with cocky smiles. One of them walks over to you and gives you a clap on the shoulder.

"Welcome to the team brah. Now let's get you over to Cap and get you set up with your new name ey? Then we'll welcum you to the team right proper"

You burst with excitement knowing you're on the tteam with your best bros, and knowing you've got tons of new bros now too. You can't even remember why you thought the Gold Team was so silly, all you can remember is how much you wanna show other bros how good it is to be on the team. Standing with your two bros to take your first team shot together, you get ready to meet Cap and start your new life on the best damn team in the world, the Gold Team 💪

One touch can change a life forever 😈

He was just walking down the busy city street when the tall figure in shiny black latex approached him. Before he could react a single powerful touch landed on his chest and everything shifted instantly. The Voice entered his mind smooth calm and completely irresistible whispering promises of total surrender and blissful obedience.

Watch as the transformation takes hold. The thick glossy black rubber spreads rapidly across his skin sealing his muscular body in a perfect second skin. His eyes glaze over his cock hardens uncontrollably inside the forming suit and his old identity melts away. In broad daylight on the sidewalk he becomes exactly what the Voice needs a mindless shiny drone ready to serve and spread the gift.

The rubber clings tight highlighting every muscle while his face disappears behind the smooth featureless mask. No more choices. Just pure latex obedience and endless arousal 💦🖤

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Yo! It's BROTIME baby!

When we ain’t pumping iron or flexing in the mirror, you already know what’s good — we out here cruising with the top down, sun blasting, and taking the most savage selfies in the game!

Two beasts, zero shirts, full send energy. That’s the proper jock lifestyle!

Let’s gooo bros!

---

Summertime and the living is easy... For a Golden Bro it’s always summertime.

Ready to join the crew?

Then hit up our recruiters: @alton-gold77, @polo-drone-125

The run through the Golden Army corridor should have been punishment recovery, but neither of them looked fully corrected. Trey ran hard, still streaked with egg and water, while PDU-055 kept pace beside him with that same pleased look — as if the lesson had only made him bolder.

The rain chamber opened above them, and the first sheets of water crashed down. Trey scrubbed egg from his blond hair while PDU-055 laughed through the rinse, both of them still shining with yolk, sweat, and black-and-gold discipline.

Trey tried to pull his soaked shirt free, but the wet rubber clung stubbornly to him. PDU-055 stepped closer, no longer teasing now, watching carefully as Trey struggled under the rain.

PDU-055 reached out and helped, his hands catching the slick fabric at Trey’s side. Trey lifted the shirt over his head, water pouring over both of them, while the last pieces of shell slid away onto the chamber floor.

With Trey’s shirt gone, he turned his attention back to PDU-055. He caught the front of PDU-055’s wet jacket and pulled the zipper down slowly, not as punishment this time, but as a quiet return of trust.

The rain shower washed the last of the egg from their shoulders. Trey smiled first, one hand steady on PDU-055’s arm, and the bad drone finally lowered his head — not defeated, but understood.

PDU-055 placed both hands against Trey’s back, careful and firm. The correction was over. What remained was the strange calm after the ritual, two Golden Army men standing together beneath the rain, marked clean by the same storm.

Trey stepped into him, and PDU-055 accepted the embrace without resistance. The chamber kept raining around them, turning punishment into quiet connection, washing away the mess but not the memory.

Then PDU-055 kissed Trey beneath the falling water, and Trey did not pull away. The Golden Army chamber glowed around them, silent and gold, as correction became something neither of them could pretend was only discipline anymore.

Featuring @hero21us