The Forgotten God

Or smooth

Young or old

Even with a shirt on

Build some pecs to make both men and women jealous and drool...

“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

You can think of a few reasons why you found yourself in the audience that night. Well, really one. When you heard "Are You Smarter Than A Himbo" was putting on a show in your neighborhood, you couldn't resist. Sure, it was kind of stupid. You'd seen the clips online. They'd bring some braindead jock up on stage to flex, laugh, crack jokes, and answer basic trivia wrong. The poor idiot would laugh along as the audience laughed at him. You'd always figured the dunce was too dumb to realize they were laughing at him. But fuck, those guys were hot. So if anything, you'd get to ogle at some hot guy flexing all night and maybe get a few laughs out of it too.

"Do you think Zak's pecs are real?"

"Jason is like totally the hottest."

"I think Ryan isn't as dumb as he lets on."

"Did you know Mike is single? I can't…"

You roll your eyes at the fanfare all around you. These people were seriously into it. And then it starts.

"Welcome everyone!" You watch as a lanky man struts on stage with his hair slicked back and a wide grin on his face, "Are you ready!?" The crowd- mostly women and a few guys cheered in response, "I said: are you ready!?" You roll your eyes as the host worked the crowd, "Alright, alright… welcome." The host smiles wider, "Put your hands together for our main man!"

The host gestures toward the side of the stage and Zak strolls out with a slow, confident walk, his arms flexed as if expecting applause. He’s got thick curls falling over his forehead, and his chest is packed with muscle, tight under his white tank top. The crowd goes wild as he steps onto the platform.

“Y’all ready?” Zak shouts, raising both arms above his head. “Let’s go!” He pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion, and your eyes widen as you take in his massive pecs and perfect abs. The crowd similarly goes wild. Zak grins, flashing a perfect set of teeth, "I'm so fuckin' pumped to be here tonight! I fuckin' love you guys!"

"But Zak, I think you have something to say to everyone. Right?" The host interjects, patting the massive jock on the back.

"Yo dude yeah, for real." Zak nods, "Like, this is gonna be my last show, ya know? With the whole modeling thing blowin' up and all." The audience groans, "I know, it sucks majorly, trust me!" Zak frowns, "But like, you'll get to see plenty more of me. Trust me brahs." He winks and the crowd cheers.

The host claps, "That’s what I like to hear! Alright, let’s get started!"

You lean forward in your seat as the first audience member is brought up. It only takes a few questions for her to utterly humiliate Zak, who just laughs and flexes like the dumb himbo that he is. As the contestant returns to her seat, the host's eyes scan the crowd, zeroing in on you.

"What about you there in the blue shirt? He looks smart, right Zak? Let's get you up here!"

Initially you're shocked. You? The host gestures for you to make your way up to the stage. You can feel your heart pounding as you climb the stairs, palms feeling a little sweaty. The bright lights, all eyes on you. And as you step onto the stage, you get an up close look of Zak. His biceps bulge impressively, glistening with a light sheen of sweat. But god he smells like a wet gym sock.

"Sup bro, nice to meetcha!" Zak grins and throws a muscular arm around you, "Dude, you ready for this?"

"Aw do I sense a budding bromance?" The host grins and the crowd cheers. After settling them down, he turns to you. "You know how this works by now. Do you think you're smarter than a himbo?"

"Yeah, I think I am." You reply.

"Heh we'll see about that, bro!" Zak guffaws, "I was just goin' easy on that last chick."

"The confidence!" The host laughs, "Let's put it to the test. Your first question: Which is the only sea without any coastlines?"

You ponder for a moment. A sea without a coastline? That's... god what was that? You feel your cheeks flushing red, as you realize you don't know the answer to that. But if you don't know the answer, Zak would definitely not know either. Speaking of Zak, he's bouncing his pecs like the oversized gym bro he is.

"Is it the Caspian Sea?" You shrug, eyes still locked on his massive pecs. Of course the host shakes his head with exaggerated sadness.

"Ah, seems Mr. Smartypants here was a bit too distracted admiring the view to ace that question!" He winks at the audience, while Zak flexes.

"No shame in that, brah!"

You feel your face flush red with embarrassment as the laughter from the audience washes over you. Great, now they all think you're just another hormone-addled fool who can't string two thoughts together because of a pretty face.

"Alright Zak, a question for you now buddy!" You figure Zak is about to bomb this question anyway- round will end in a tie and you can walk away with some dignity, "What color are bananas?"

Zak scratches his head, "Dude… tricky." He chuckles, low and dumb, "So, I want to say yellow, but also green when they're not ripe. Oh but brown too if they go for too long!"

"Fantastic answer Zak! Well thought out!" The host grins as the crowd cheers, "Uh oh, looks like Zak has pulled ahead!"

The fuck kind of question was that? You look at the host and then Zak, who is doing a victory dance. The color of bananas? Of course Zak would know that- he's a fucking ape. You smirk at your own joke.

"Okay okay, let's try another one! Mr. Smartypants, are you ready to redeem yourself?" You're ready, more than ready. You're not..., "What pigments are responsible for the red color of leaves?"

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You don't have an answer for that. Maybe you did know it, but between the flexing stud and the stage fright, you couldn't find the information.

"Chlorophyll."

"What a shame! That is not correct." He smiles at the audience, "It seems Zak may have a chance to widen his lead! Hey big guy, what day of the month is Christmas celebrated on?" It takes Zak maybe a minute or two to answer that one correctly, "Look at that folks, Zak is now up by two!" He turns to you with a grin, "Seems our guest is not much of a smartypants after all!"

Again, your face flush reds, "No worries, little dude." Zak ruffles your hair, "I uh, I got some smarts, ya know." He looks out towards the audience, "Last show brahs but first win!"

The crowd cheers and it dawns on you that you might be the first person to actually lose this stupid game. Frustration bubbles up inside you as the host and crowd continue to mock you. You're better than this, smarter than being made a fool of. Screw it, you're going to show them all up.

"I could answer every single one of those easy-ass questions he's getting," you mutter under your breath, but the mic picks it up anyway. The host's eyes light up.

"Oh ho, is that so?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk gracing his features. "Well then, why don't you prove it, hot shot? Let's see if you can handle something a little more…your speed. Here we go bud - how does the body cool down during intense exercise like a heavy workout session?"

You chuckle. Really? This was the question? You clear your voice, "Sweating. That's how it keeps from overheating."

"Correct!"

"Woah bro, nice one!"

Yeah... that was a nice one. Finally got a question right... finally... You wince as a warmth fills your upper arms. At first it's just a gentle tingling, a warm buzzing beneath your skin. But quickly it builds to a throbbing, insistent pressure.

"What the…?"

The sensation intensifies, an intensifying heat pulsing through your upper arms. Your skin prickles and tightens as your biceps and triceps stretch against the sleeve of your shirt. It feels like the most intense pump after a grueling workout, but magnified tenfold. Your arms throbbing, aching. You feel aware of just how much more space they're taking up. And the twitching- it's incessant. Unconsciously, your arms start to rise, muscles tensing, flexing…

"Whoa…" you mutter, marveling at the sheer size and density of your upper arms, "How…?"

The host clears his throat pointedly, breaking you out of your awestruck reverie. "Ahem, moving on! Thanks for that… demonstration." He shoots you a knowing wink, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Let's see if we can't challenge that big ol' brain of yours with another question, shall we? What does the acronym SBD stand for in powerlifting?"

"Oh brah, way too easy." Zak chides, crossing his massive arms over his muscular chest, "Even I know that one."

But your head is swimming. The powerful feeling in your arms send pleasurable waves of warmth through your body. But your mind. You're reviewing the question. Thinking it through. SBD? In powerlifting?

"SBD... SBD..." You rub your chin, unconsciously flexing your now massive bicep, "Huh... like... That's uh..."

You look over at Zak and he's making some kind of motion. A goofy grin on his face as he squats. Squats. Squats!

"Bro!" You grin, "Squats, dude! Yeah, that's what the S stands for." You grin, but the host shakes his head, "C'mon what?" You pout.

"You're still forgetting the rest." The host smiles, "And the timer is counting down."

You shuffle anxiously on your feet. You know this, right? But why would you? You're not into powerlifting. But like, it should be easy. If S stands for squats then like, wouldn't B and D also be something to do with working out? Yeah? Totally, that makes sense. But like, what else is there? What other... huh... shirt is getting kinda tight too. And fuck, you can't help but notice how warm your chest feels. Nice and warm, pressing more and more against the fabric of your shirt. Stretching it out against your big, meaty...

"Bench press, brah! B stands for bench press!" You say with a grin as your shirt starts to tear away, revealing a set of massive pecs and a chiseled torso, "Huh where'd my shirt go?" The audience cheers and you grin, staring down as you bounce your pecs.

"Excellent job, but unfortunately, you didn't finish. You missed D, you big dunce."

The host laughs, and you laugh along with him and the audience. Big dunce. Yeah that's... that's you? You pause for a second and start to feel that same embarrassment from earlier. They're laughing... not with you, but...

"Dude, can't win em all!" Zak slaps you on your increasingly wider back and you turn to him- now at eye-level, "But like, brah, you've got this next one!"

"Y-y-you th-think so.... brah?" Your tongue feels heavy, the words feel sluggish. You notice your voice sounds deeper to your ears, "I..."

"You have to focus there, smartypants!" The host interrupts, "Two more questions. Are you ready?" You nod slowly, "In a deadlift, how high are you supposed to lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Deadlift..." Your eyes light up suddenly, "Wait, bro! The D! That's what D stands for, brah!" You say excitedly.

The whole audience laughs, as does the host. You look at him, feeling a strange sense of confusion bubbling up. Why were they laughing? What was so funny?

"Good job there, but that was the last question. We've moved on, big guy."

"Oh..." You chuckle, a grin forming on your lips as you let out a deep, dumb laugh, "Huhuhuh that was pretty stupid of me." The audience and the host laugh even louder, and you find yourself joining in, "Alright, gotta lock in, gotta... brah what was the question?"

"Dead lifts..."

"Oh fuck yeah! I fuckin' love deadlifts."

The host grins, "Yes, exactly! So tell us, when doing a deadlift, how high do you lift the barbell before lowering it?"

"Yeah... uh..." You bite your lip, thinking hard. Your fingers drum against your swollen bicep as you try to concentrate and with a sigh, lift your hands behind your head, "Oh nice..."

Your eyes lock on to your bulging bis and tris and you're momentarily distracted. But the sharp tang of your own musk drifts up from your armpits, momentarily derailing your train of thought. Fuck, you smell good. Really fucking good. But since when did you...?

"Brah, c'mon you got this." Zak says, watching you closely.

You shake your head and run a hand through your perfectly gelled, styled hair, before pausing- fuck your aesthetic is probably cooked. You awkwardly pat at your hair.

"Worry about your hair later, you've got a question to answer." The host says.

"Fuck, sorry..." You let out an awkward chuckle, "Just gotta..."

Your body moves instinctively into the proper deadlift position—back straight, knees slightly bent, hips pushed back—as if you've done this 1000s of times before. As you demonstrate the form flawlessly, a new awareness floods your lower body. Your glutes feel… alive. Heavy. Round. Perfect. You grin as you squeeze them unconsciously, feeling the dense muscle fibers contract.

"The answer is hips, bro."

"Let's fuckin' go, brah!" Zak cheers and slaps you on the ass, sending a wave of intense pleasure reverberating through your meaty glutes.

As the crowd cheers, your eyes lock on Zak. The pleasure from him slapping your ass still making you shudder. You drink him in, fixated on the prominent bulge straining against his gym shorts.

"Fuck..." You mumble- he's packing serious heat there.

Your mouth waters involuntarily as fantasies flood your mind- Zak pinning you down, those huge hands squeezing your meaty ass while he drives his massive cock deep inside you. The image of you riding his thick cock sends shivers down your growing frame, and you imagine running your tongue over every inch of his sweat-slick skin. You lick your lips and grin at the thought.

When your eyes meet again, Zak doesn't look away. Instead, his smirk widens as he catches you staring, and the few brain cells he has recognize exactly what you’re thinking. He flexes for the audience, but he turns to give you a quick wink, letting you know all that flexing was just for you... because he wants you to know he wants you too. After all, you know there's not way he could resist you either. With your... bulging pecs? Massive arms? Thick glutes?

"Wait..." You mumble. You can feel the rusting gears in your increasingly empty head turn ever so slightly, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.

Your head was spinning, brain trying to make sense of all of it.

Something’s off, right? Like... this ain’t how it used to be. You know that. You weren’t… this. But then... what were you then, dude? Cause, like, look at you. Seriously... just look. You’re absolutely shredded. I mean, c’mon, those arms? That chest? You don’t just wake up lookin’ this jacked without bein’… well, this guy. So how could you not be you if you straight-up look like you? Right?

A dumb chuckle escapes your lips as all that thinking overwhelms and shuts down whatever last remaining brain cells you have.

The host snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of your haze. "Earth to bro, we still got one question."

"Huh? Wha-" You blink slowly, your expression vacant and slack. Drool slips down your chin as you stare blankly ahead.

"Are you smarter than a himbo?" The host grins.

"Nawww, bro, 'course not!" You reply with a big, dumb grin spreading across your face, "Can't be smarter than a himbo cuz… I AM the fuckin' himbo, bro!"

The host laughs, shaking his head, "Well folks, I guess that settles it! Looks like we've got ourselves a new resident himbo to take Zak's place. Give it up for… COLT!"

The audience erupts into cheers and applause as you beam proudly, basking in the spotlight. You feel Zak sling a muscular arm around your broad shoulders, squeezing you close.

"Dude, so fuckin' glad you're joinin' the fam, bro!" Zak enthuses, his hand drifting lower to grope your ass possessively, "Trust me bro, you're gonna love it."

Zak's strong grip on your juicy ass makes you shudder and you can tell by that grin that he's thinking exactly what you're thinking.

The host clears his throat loudly, snapping you out of your lustful stupor. "Don't forget to wave to the crowd, champ!" He gestures encouragingly towards the audience.

With a dopey grin, you raise a hand in greeting, relishing the adoration pouring in from all sides.

"Thanks y'all, this is gonna be fuckin' sick!" You call out enthusiastically, grinning like an idiot.

And as Zak digs his fingers into your massive ass, you lick your lips hungrily. The only thought in your empty head was that once this show was over, you'd be giving him a private encore performance that neither of you would forget…