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Hi, just a guy who likes writing dirty stories. Feel free to message me on kik or Skype
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Scrolling three in a row has a nice influence
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Black and white and
Black and white and
Moving in and
Flashing bright and
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your natural state
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reblogged from with 974 notes
Kevin rushed inside desperate for a shower and change. He dropped his bag in the living room, and dashed into the hallway, almost colliding into his roommate.
Easy man, you could have killed me, his roomie laughed, I think you might be rushing around too much.
Kevin wasn’t interested in jocular small talk, and redoubled his efforts to make it past. This time, his roommate put his hands up, hitting Kevin in the shoulders, and pushing him back.
Kevin knew what this meant, having played out this ritual before. Stepping back, feigning disgust, he charged at his roommate, spearing him just enough to knock him off his feet, but not hard enough where he could n’t control their fall to the floor. Both locked horns, smirks on their faces as they wrestled.
Kevin tried to get the upper hand, get his arms around his mates head, but his mate was one step ahead. He tried using the strength in his legs to give him leverage, but he pulled them apart, and easily flipped Kevin away. Kevin dove again, and was easily deflected by a side step, and a hard press to his back.
The sweat slipped into Kevin’s eyes, blinding him, but he was already missing alot. His mates face for one, with each move the levity and teasing faded, replaced with expressionless features to match the mechanical maneuvers being effortlessly deployed to bring Kevin down.
Blank faced, he countered every move Kevin tried to get past, thinking it was just a game, but it was more than that, and just the beginning. The roommate threw his weight, and pushed Kevin down with one final thrust, and straddled his backside. The mate’s mind clicked, and he knew he had obeyed. A quick jerk, and he was receiving new orders, finish his task, and he would be rewarded. He pulled the visor from a side shelf, and forced it onto Kevin’s head, his cock hardening over Kevin’s ass. His reward was coming, but Kevin had to relax first.One second, Kevin was trying his hardest to get past his mate then there was a face full of carpet then darkness. He could tell his legs were being held down, but with his arm, he was able to pull at the visor on his head. Kevin heard a slight buzzing as it tightened around his head, no amount of force would remove it. He gripped the two handles on the side, and pulled again.
There was a series of piercing flashes, his mate felt the seizure go through him. Kevin shook, then was still, and the mate continued to watch.
Inside the device…..
The lights stopped, and Kevin blinked, finding only a little red dot which appeared far away. A voice spoke into his ear piece.
Kevin, continue to look at the red dot, the harder you focus, the closer it gets, look and focus. Keep your hands on the device, pull it down harder, like a Good Boy who wants to be brainwashed, pull it down so you can submit. Give us your approval.
Horrified by these words, Kevin still pulled the helmet down, hard. There was buzzing in his ears, and he can feel his body tingle with numbness, but he obeyed, and continued to focus.Kevin, it’s important to always be horny, to always want to cum. Master wants his slaves to spend their seed thinking of him. Clothed or naked, you must always cum for Master. Master likes the way you are dressed now so slave may get hard.
Kevin had been listening, comforted by the voice as the red light got closer. Kevin had been thrusting his crotch, but now was getting hard, leaking precum into his briefs and soccer shorts. It felt right, it felt good, and he found himself saying,
Good Boy, your hands can let go now.
Kevin let his hands fall to his lap, and felt the wetness there. He gasped, opened his eyes a little wider, and stroked.
The red light was no longer far away, but was spiraling closer, filling his vision. He wanted to look away, blink, if only to shake the thick cloudiness in his head, but his focus was trapped, his stroking to hard, and his wet shorts, so good.
Outside the helmet, his roommate stood in the hallway, hard, dripping drops of precum onto Kevin’s socked legs, and waited for orders.
The voice came from the earpiece in his ear.
Rub your cock on Kevin’s legs, and wait for permission to cum.
Yes, Master! The friend knelt down on all fours, and grinded his dripping cock on Kevin’s soccer socks.
Inside the helmet, Kevin was close to cumming. His eyes and mind burned by the light, wiping away any thoughts, but the need to obey and cum. Kevin we akly repeated what the voice was telling him.
The lights in the device pierced his brainwashed mind, and Kevin cried out as he came in his tented shorts. The wet stain filling the front of his receding crotch.
His roommate knelt up as the voice commanded, and followed as he was told to see to his programmed friend. He removed the device, and kissed Kevin’s dazed lips.
Kevin’s eyes fluttered closed, I must obey, escaped his lips. His roommate led the new slave to the bathroom mirror. Kevin felt the phone in his hand, and something being stuck in his ear.
I hear and obey.
Kevin continued to film himself for Master, stroking, and when his roommate cum’d on his one foot, Kevin cam on the other, and after that, Kevin put his cock back in his shorts, put his leg down, and stroked inside his shor ts.
I have to share this with you!
Lol, wow this one is almost to a thousand also
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reblogged from with 525 notes
Lance had just gotten done working out, something he was supposed to do everyday, a new urge, but one he found extremely satisfying, watching the change in attitude and body that came after weeks and weeks of working out hard. Why he started, was something he pondered often, never an exact reason or word discovered though.
Time was short so he showered at the gym, and was patiently waiting for his friend to pick him up. He opened a book, and waited, and waited, but an hour went by, and the sun went down without his friend ever showing up. He tried his cell, no answer just the echoing chamber of endless ringing.
Lance was worried, and the streets were quiet. He sat under a lamppost, and continued to read, just wait a little while longer he said to himself. He sat, lit up a smoke, and went back to his pages while the streets around him were silent.
The emptiness engulfed him, and let his mind focus on The Itch that compelled him to read and wait. No question why, no reason to stay, but he didn’t wonder, and he continued to stay, satisfying that small Itch in the back of his mind. Until there was a sudden noise that made him look up.
A few buildings down was a man dressed all in black. Lance couldn’t tell what he was wearing, it was too dark, and now the street lights were going out making it even darker. It was almost impossible to tell, but it looked like he was coming toward him. Lance stood up, taking a few steps back off the steps, and was definitely able to see the other man come closer, and now he could make out what the stranger was wearing.
It was beyond belief, but there he was, a stranger dressed head to toe in slick, shiny rubber. Lance couldn’t bel ieve his eyes, or summon the effort to take his eyes off him as the stranger stepped closer still several yards away. The moonlight shined down on the suited stranger, each step the rubber stranger took, a sparkling lens flare came off his body, it was beautiful to behold.
Lance agreed, and inside his head, The Itch became a little more satisfied. The man stepped closer, 3 steps, 2 steps, 1 steps, and everything seemed ok, it was so nice to look at. If the stranger was close enough, he could reach out his hand, and touch him. Each crunch of the rubber soled foot sent a shivering itch into Lance, and he stood there frozen, waiting, anticipating. Just watching the shimmer, moonlit rubber glow, feeling good about seeing this, and just waiting. Waiting to touch it, wanting to touch it.
Lance’s eyes were opening and closing as the light constantly hit him, and the marvel that was this rubber suited stranger continued to ensnare h im. He found it peaceful to watch, if left along, he could stand silent for eternity just watching this man in the moonlight coming closer and closer to him. You’re so beautiful, he sighed, and he relaxed a little more.
Once the rubber suited man was at arms length, he stopped, and took Lance’s hand. Pulling him closer so he could touch and explore, and he did. Stroking and caressing the rubber body from top to bottom, rubbing his hand over the smooth head, and kneeling down to touch his smooth feet.
The suit was solid, almost one piece, but there was one hole in the back of the drone’s neck. Pulling out a silver needle that was inserted into his body, and as Lance worshiped the rubber before him, the drone silently pulled one out of his neck.
Lance was so busy touching, feeling the enticing rubber, he never noticed the drone move, or lay a hand on the back of his head, a tuft of hair between each o f his rubber fingers. Never noticing that the drone was holding his head down he was so busy worshiping. The drones hand went up into the air, and he brought it down just as quick, injecting Lance with the needle that would begin his processing.
Lance felt The Itch of the insertion immediately, falling face foreword onto the drone’s rubber foot. His face completely pressed against the rubber. His body twitched as The Itch engulfed him, sending swarms of programming into his body.
The needle inserted into Lance was busy changing his system, turning him more into a machine than a man. On a deep level, he seemed to understand this, and it only compelled him to let it happen, to embrace it. As the changes were happening, Lance recovered from the overpowering Itch, but only so he could lick the rubber feet that were beneath him. There was no urge to stand, leave, or kneel, he just lay face down, licking the rubber before h im.
The Itch that was now in him was moving faster, taking his body over from head to toe, flowing into his entire person, the entire Unit. Processing and obeying, and Lance accepted every once of it, he also accepted the rubber foot being gently pressed into his mouth, and finally, for the first time, his dick got hard.
Lance was being engulfed and converted, by the computerized impulses from the needles, and his own obsession with the rubber. Lance was almost completely blank now, almost consumed by the Itch. Every memory, every name was being taken away, and he was becoming something new.
The drone took his foot out of Lance’s mouth, and surveyed the extent of Lance’s processing. How far along to complete assimilation was he? The drone lifted Lance’s head up, and looked.
Lance’s body was shuddering, almost like shivering in the cold, but he felt so good and warm, the consuming was like a fire that erupted his body, and made him want to kiss and touch anything that moved, to spread this feeling as far as he could. The Itch in him was in complete control, and it wanted to spread. The drone looked into Lance’s eyes. The color and emotion almost completely gone, faded. The eyes of a drone.
The drone lifted Lance up, and led him home. Walking together side by side, the drone whispered to him as they walked.
I MUST SLEEP…I WANT TO SLEEP…I WILL SLEEP
YESSLEEP MAKES ME OBEY
All the way home, each step, the mantra was repeated, and there were other words.
THE ITCH YOU FEEL MAKES YOU OBEY
THE ITCH IS LIKE BEING BRAINWASHED
THE ITCH ENTERS YOUR HEAD AND TAKES OVER
The closer to home they got, the more Lance touched the rubber, consumed by the need to touch and feel the rubber besides him. His hand res ting on the back of the drone’s head, going up and down its back, and wishing so hard he could bend down and touch the rubberized legs and feet again.
Lance was home. The drone took him to the bedroom where there was a rubber suit waiting for him. His eyes finally turning completely white, he simply stood and waited for orders.
The drone led him over to the bed, and showed him the rubber suit that was made for him. The drone helped the newly assimilated Unit Lance undress completely even stopping to lick his feet since he did so well by not resisting The Itch.
Lance was nicely hard, but the rubber suit was able to contain it. The Itch consuming him completely as it was zipped up. The drone kissed him once on the lips before pulling the black mask over his head.
The drone helped the now rubberized Unit Lance into the bed, and placed a pair of headphones over his ears. Helping Lance as he began the ne xt step of his processing.
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Lance’s life had completely changed. He nolonger worked, went to school, or worked out. His body was kept perfect by the circuitry in the rubber suit he always wore, the only part he was ever allowed to remove was the covering over his face, and that was only to serve if called on.
It’s always nice to look at a drone’s face. The lack of expression, and sometimes the mouth is slightly open as if the drone isn’t sure to say Yes Master or simply, I obey. but it’s not like they are thinking or debating these thoughts, it’s just a simple side effect of becoming a mindless drone.
Master YesSleep and the suit take care of all your needs. The drones spent the day awaiting further processing until they would be ready to reenter the community, recruiting and enslaving as they resumed their liv es, but underneath they were driven by an urge to spread the parasitic Itch in their heads, as well as always wearing their drone uniform under their clothing.
Lance would be no different. Today was to be his final processing.
Lined along the wall with the other similar rubberized slaves, Lance waited until the Doctors came for him, pulling him from the line, and making him walk. Down the long hallways to the last room the drones go to for their final processing, the last stage of the brainwashing. Any last bit of control, of freewill would be taken away, after a trip to this room, none would question or resist the organization again.
It was possible, in the early stages of the brainwashing, for a simple drone like Lance to resist. The units, packed in their cubicles, sometimes woke up from their artificial stupor. The sounds and pleas were always the same. What am I doing here, What is going on? Who are these other people, and why are they so silent?
That was the mistake, focusing on the other men, and not taking the chance to run. The cubicle would sense the distress of the resisting drone, and take measures to rectify it.
Immediately sealing shut, locking the drone within, and from beneath his feet, it devoured. A black pool of liquid rubber bubbling at the drone’s feet, suddenly flowing over his feet, and covering them in rubber. Slowly working its way up his feet and ankles, calming, smooth. The drone would stop pounding on the locked cubicle as the rubber swam up his legs, falling back into a resting position, the drone waited as the emergency processing takes over. The rubber covers his groin and chest, and the drone sighs in ecstacy, once more blissfully enslaved. No longer resisting, there is no need, the rubber feels so good. Simply feeling it wash over him, bringing him back into the fold, making him a drone once more.
That’s how the doctors found him the next morning, covered in rubber, and the doctors know it is now or never. To prevent any further resistance, this drone must be processed immediately.
Back in the room, where the doctors led him, Lance is brought to a table, and propped up. The doctors assist in removing the rubber suit, and instruct Lance to bend over. He does without comment, his head simply bowed, simply sleeping.
One of the doctors brings the device over, a hunk of metal tubes to be installed in his back. Lance doesn’t even feel the cold metal as it is attached to his back. Only noticing as it inserts itself deeper, only ready to be visible and used for further processing. The tubes become a part of him, entering his body, 1…..2……3, each click, insertion wiping away anything that is left of Lance.
Finishing the job that the parasite, The Itch started. Th e device injecting the machinery and chemicals needed to fully convert this young man into another mindless drone. Lance never speaks, and barely moves as the final processing takes place. Only the sporadic jerk as the wiring begins to have an effect, as the rubber did, spreading itself to each part of his body.
The rubber begins to encase the drone’s body again, but only in parts. Forming bands around the arms and legs, strips across the chest, only covering to signify how far the processing has gone, a measurement to tell how far the assimilation is from completion.
The doctors have done all they can at this stage, it’s not time for the next part. They lead the drone to another room. Completely compliant, the only disturbance in the robotic pace is when the insertions and injections take over. The drone is subjected to mini-orgasms as he keeps pace with his superiors.
The next room is dark, and co ld, populated by a metallic chair. The drone is tied to it, his mouth, eyes, and ears are covered. All intended to stimulate the processing, The Itch. The visor over the eyes feeds a continuous, repetitive spiral. The headphones over his ear does what we all love, to be constantly told to obey. You are no longer able to question or resist, you are a simple drone. Listen to my voice, always listen, always obey.
The drone will be left here for hours, maybe even days so the audio and visual can fully take over the drone’s mind. If there is any part of him that can, or will resist, this is the time that it is dealt with. It never takes long, but it’s always good to be safe than sorry. A drone who resist is a very sad creature indeed. In this case, it takes less than an hour for the litany to start.
I obey completely
There is only obedience and cum
Cum for Master
Master, I wish to o bey.
Then the mouth piece shuts him up.
The mouth piece extends into a dildo, and while his mouth is pummeled by the synthetic cock, his mind is continuously bombarded with sumbliminals to further his need to obey.
This continues until the brainwashing is absolutely complete, and the drone is ordered to stand.
As it does, the rubber completely covers his body from head to toe, but turns translucent once his body is sealed.
The drone is given a set of cloths, a new address, and orders on the type of male to recruit and assimilate. Without any word, the drone leaves the complex, and begins his new life as a mindless agent intent on subjugating others into the mindless drone collective.
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the password is watchthewatch
BRAIN WASH to OBEY
RINSE away your FREE WILL
REPEAT AND WATCH AGAIN
Loved watching, and listening to this
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