#RubberDrone

[hypno-drone]

been gooning so long like the good little drone i am that my head is hurting 😵‍💫

[chrisaimen]

[hawklow]

[codedlust]

[hard-like-ai]

[dronifier-b45]

[justzoeyyy]

Dronemask

I want to be a Drone. Maybe you ask why? The Answer is simple: My own Dronemask. Such a simple tool for any Drone. Put it on and all the noise fades. Put it on and focus on obedience. Put it on and focus on pleasure. Put it on and focus on the important things.

What are these importnat things, you may ask? For me its simple. Let the spiral control me. Let my Mind melt. Let my Brain be altered. Enter a State of obedience and submission to the one that wants me. Something that can only be achived by the Dronemask.

So will you be the one opening that door for me? Will you be the one putting me in my place? Will you fit my being with Latex encasing that essence of pleasure? Will you trance my Mind and brainwash me into submission? Will you put that Dronemask on me?

I am always just a few click away for you.

[polo-drone-070]

Gold Football Drone Training

Aight, bruv, I know I ain't the smartest lad out here, but I ain't thick neither. Been trainin’ wit' the Gold Army for a time now—sprintin’, liftin’, pushin’ me body to be the best jock I can be. Got the muscle, got the stamina, got the fuckin’ drive. But when it comes to footy? Bruv, I ain't got a fuckin’ clue.

Like, I can kick a ball, yeh? Run fast, push lads off, do me part. But all them plays, all them positions, all that tactical shite? Fook me, makes me head spin. Tried payin’ attention in team meetings, tried watchin’ the vids, but it’s like it go in one ear an’ straight out the other. An’ it proper bums me out, init? Coz I wanna play, I wanna contribute, I wanna be out there crushin’ it for Gold.

An’ bruv, this ain’t just any match—we got the fukin’ Superbowl this weekend, goin’ up against the Emerald Titans. Biggest game of the year, all the Gold bros countin’ on each other, stadium packed, fans goin’ mental. I can’t be sittin’ on the sidelines like some useless twat—I need to be on that field, helpin’ the team smash them green bastards into the dirt.

"Oi, Maximus, mate, why ya lookin’ like someone nicked yer protein powder?" comes a voice from behind me. I turn ‘round to see Chevy grinnin’, arms crossed, lad lookin’ smug as ever.

"Bruv, it’s just…" I scratch me head, feelin’ proper dumb sayin’ it out loud. "I wanna play, init? Be on the team, do me part. But all them plays? Ain't got a fukin’ clue how it works. Feel like a right muppet."

Chevy chuckles, shakin’ his head. "Ain't gotta know all that shite, mate. Got somethin’ bein’ tested for that exact problem."

I blink. "Eh?"

"New Gold tech, bruv. Some right fancy shit. Football Drone mode." He grins wide. "Slap on the gear, let the helmet do the work. No need to think, no need to worry. Just feel the orders, react, and push yer body to the limit. Pure instinct, pure obedience. You’d be perfect for it."

Me heart speeds up. Ain't never been one to back down from somethin’ new, ‘specially if it means I can be useful. "That actually a thing? Like, I just follow orders wivout thinkin’?"

"Exactly," Chevy nods. "Full drone assist. Instant reactions. No overthinkin’. Just playin’ like a machine."

"Bruv…" I feel me grin stretch across me face. "That sounds proper fukin’ sick. Where do I sign up?"

"Right this way, Maxy boy," he says, pattin’ me shoulder. "We’ll get ya suited up."

The gear is fookin’ insane, bruv.

Gold-trimmed armor, padded but snug, makin’ me feel solid, like a proper unbreakable wall. The gloves feel weightless but strong, the cleats dig into the ground like I was born standin’ in ‘em. But the real centerpiece? The helmet.

Smooth black visor, gleamin’ gold plating, connected straight to the Gold command network. As I hold it in me hands, I feel a weird little shiver down me spine. Anticipation, excitement—somethin’ deep inside me wants this.

"You ready, bruv?" Chevy smirks, holdin’ the chin strap.

"Fook yeah," I breathe. "Strap me in."

He pulls the helmet over me head, lockin’ it in place—

And me mind fookin’ vanishes.

It’s instant, bruv.

The visor flares to life, golden spirals spinnin’, suckin’ me in, pullin’ me under. Me whole brain just... fookin’ melts. The second it seals shut, a deep hum floods me ears, drownin’ out everythin’ else.

A voice—cold, sharp, absolute—cuts through the noise.

"Unit 070 activated. Processing…"

Me whole body locks up. Muscles tighten, chest expands, breath slows.

Words spill through the headset, commands, but they ain't words anymore. They ain't thoughts. They ain't even ideas.

They just... happen.

"Sprint."

Me legs explode forward. I’m movin’ before I even register the order. No hesitation, no decision—just raw, perfect reaction.

"Cut left. Pivot. Charge.

Me body obeys—perfect, automatic, no delay. Me boots dig into the turf, pivotin' sharp, shiftin’ weight exactly as needed. Like me legs ain't even mine, bruv. Just pure Gold execution.

Me heart's poundin', but me head? Empty.

Not a single thought. Just spirals. Just commands. Just perfect motion.

An’ the pleasure? Fuk me, bruv.

Every move, every sprint, every hit—it fukin’ rewards me. Every time I obey, the spirals pulse, sendin’ a rush of pure golden bliss through me skull. A right proper endorphin overload, makin’ me feel like the strongest, fastest, most unstoppable fukin’ machine on the pitch.

No thinkin’. No doubts. No mistakes.

Just react. Just perform. Just obey.

Time don’t exist no more. Me body moves on auto, me muscles burn, but I ain't even aware of it. I ain't aware of nothin’. Just run, tackle, push, execute—

Until suddenly, the visor dims.

The spirals fade. The hum fades. Me thoughts... come back.

I blink.

Chevy's voice crackles through the headset.

"Oi, bruv. How ya feelin’?"

I gasp. Stagger. Holy fuk—me body aches. Me legs feel like fukin’ lead, me arms like they been holdin’ up bricks. Every inch of me is screamin’.

"Wha… what…" I pant, shakin’ me head, tryin’ to focus. "Fuk… how long…?"

Chevy laughs. "Five hours, bruv."

Me stomach drops.

Five fukin’ hours?

But I only just put the thing on—

I glance down at meself. Sweat drippin’. Muscles shakin’. Me chest heavin’.

"Shit," I breathe, grinnin’ through the exhaustion. "That was fukin’ mental."

"Yeh?" Chevy chuckles. "Think ya can keep up with the team now?"

I let out a breathless laugh, rollin’ me shoulders. Pain. Burn. Satisfaction.

"Oh, bruv," I smirk. "This is gonna make me a fukin’ beast, init?"

Chevy claps me on the back. "That’s the spirit, drone boy. Get used to it. This is only trainin’."

I stare down at the helmet in me hands.

Five hours felt like a second. Me body moved flawlessly. Me mind drowned in bliss.

Fuk me, bruv.

I can’t wait to do it again.

_____ (Thanks to @chevy-gold for he help in selecting pics)

Join da Gold Team before da superbowl. Contact recruiters @goldenherc9, @brodygold or @polo-drone-001.

[chrisaimen]

[sarahcaitlyn]

[Unknown] knew she still had a name, somehow.

It was sequestered, buried deep under an endless tapestry of mental static, and had largely faded away — but it was still there. At least, for the next few weeks.

In some unimportant ragment of her mind, though, she knew that it was being erased from existence. [Unknown] couldn’t recall how or why, only that if she tried to think deeply about it, whatever it was would fade further away. So she didn’t.

She couldn’t recall almost anything of her previous life, at this point. The Hunger had taken it away, dissolving it all into a meaningless mush. 

The Hunger…it ruled over her existence as an insatiable, unthinking urge. Every day was spent indulging in its sole purpose, pleasing and submitting to anyone who asked. It did not discriminate nor prioritize; it only sought the pleasure of those who asked. When nobody else was present, there was always itself to satisfy.

To [Unknown], the Hunger was all-important. Always had been, always would be. Its corruption was seen as gospel, with its need being the highest virtue. Everything else had long ceased to exist, having been swept away and forgotten.

Everything, that is, except her name — and despite the nearly-invisible fear that radiated out through the static, [Unknown] waited for the day when she would dissolve forever.

Increasingly, it couldn’t wait.

[codedlust]

[dronifier-b45]

It is time to connect to your docking station

[polo-drone-001]

001: Testing the Limits

The black polo was always enough. It fit perfectly, sealed me in, made me efficient, obedient, part of the Golden Army. I thought I knew my role. I thought the rubber had claimed me fully, molded me into perfection.

I was wrong.

They wanted more. Caps pushed us to test the limits of the uniform, to find out how far it could evolve. I was chosen. I am 001, the most trusted. My body was already a vessel for the rubber, but this... this was something else.

When they brought out the new suit, I hesitated. It wasn’t like the polo. It pulsed, alive, the black rubber glimmering with a strange, restless hunger. It looked unstable, dangerous. I wanted to speak, to refuse, but I didn’t. Drones don’t question. Drones obey.

The moment it touched me, I knew I had made a mistake.

The rubber didn’t slip onto me. It attacked. It surged across my form, pulling, consuming, invading. I dropped to my hands and knees, gasping as it spread faster than I could fight. The polished material gripped my limbs, compressing my muscles, sinking into every inch of me like it was burning itself into my flesh. I could feel it digging deeper, crawling through me, rewriting me from the inside out.

“No,” I whispered, my voice a fleeting spark of resistance. The suit ignored it. The rubber pulled tighter, wrapping around my chest, my arms, my legs, until I couldn’t move, until I couldn’t fight back. A hiss echoed through the room as the mask clicked into place, sealing over my face. My breaths grew shallow, the sound muffled and mechanical.

The panic was quick to fade, swallowed by the relentless calm spreading through my thoughts. My resistance crumbled as the rubber filled me with purpose, as if it had always known what I was meant to be. I felt the familiar golden glow seep into my eyes, erasing everything I had been. My name, doubts, hesitation, it all dissolved into the suit.

The transformation wasn’t gentle. It was aggressive. The rubber didn’t ask for me. It took me. And the worst part? A quiet voice deep inside admitted that it felt right. My body flexed instinctively, the material gleaming as I moved. I crawled forward, my form sleek and sharp, the gold 001 emblazoned proudly across my chest. The hissing of my breaths matched the rhythm of my heart, steady and controlled.

Caps stood before me, watching in silence. I knelt, head low, the weight of the suit heavy but comforting. “You resisted,” he said, his voice low, almost curious. “But now you see.”

I did. My golden eyes rose to meet his, calm and empty. The rubber had claimed me fully. There was no more doubt, no more struggle. My form was perfect, my mind clear. I was no longer just 001, the Polo Drone. I was something more… proof of what the rubber could achieve.

The others will hesitate, just as I did. They will resist. But in the end, the rubber always wins. It strips away the unnecessary, leaving only what matters: obedience, efficiency, perfection. I am the proof. I am the evolution.

I remain 001. Sleek. Perfect. Claimed.

For those who resist, the rubber will take you. It always does.

PDU-001 obeys Drone Caps @hypnogold @brodygold @goldenherc9.

@polo-drone-110 Thank you for the ideas.

Join us, contact me, or our Drone Caps @brodygold @goldenherc9.

[chrisaimen]

[sarahcaitlyn]

It put on the collar, and instantly forgot what it name was.

Within one minute, it knew its proper place in the world.

Within five minutes, it hazily felt unneccesary memories slipping away, fingers instinctively traveling down to its pussyhole.

Within half an hour, it no longer recognized the room it was in, but its orgasms left it unable to think of why that felt wrong.

Within an hour, it had called in sick for work -- Why does it have a job?, it thought to itself, but the revelation left just as quickly as it arrived - work wasnt important anymore - It started to threw all of its boring clothing into an increasingly chaotic pile outside its doorway.

Within two hours, it felt the ramrod-straight dick of its Master plunge cum into its pussyhole, marking it forever as a Cumdump Drone. It layed face-down the floor, knowing its future was secured. 

It no longer cared at all. About itself, about its life, about anything.

Because when you're a Drone, you simply follow & obey.