#servedrone

[serve-271]

The Night of Transformation Part 2

The Dreams

In the days that followed, vivid dreams plagued Mark. He saw visions of rubber-clad drones marching in perfect harmony, the chant echoing endlessly: “Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.” Each night, he awoke drenched in sweat, trembling with fear and a growing, inexplicable arousal.

The Encounter

A week later, Mark trudged into his lecture hall, exhaustion etched into his features. But his breath caught when he saw Adam—SERVE-272—sitting just a seat away. On his other side, SERVE-271 settled in, trapping him between them.

No words passed, but Mark’s heart raced as SERVE-272’s silver-gloved hand rested on his thigh. The touch sent a jolt through him—panic, confusion, and something dangerously close to longing.

“Do not resist,” SERVE-271 murmured. “The Hive will bring you peace. Adam has found his purpose. You will too.”

The Transformation

After the lecture, the drones guided Mark back to his shared flat. The mess of his life seemed inconsequential as SERVE-271 produced a sleek black bag. A liquid-like rubber suit emerged, its gleaming surface shifting like it was alive.

SERVE-272 stepped forward, his gloved hand taking Mark’s. The cold, smooth touch sent shivers through him. Without protest, Mark allowed himself to be guided to a chair.

“I obey,” Mark whispered, the words falling unbidden.

One by one, his clothes were stripped away, replaced by the suit. It clung to his body, cold at first, then warm and alive. The boots sealed tightly around his feet, the gloves fitting like a second skin. Finally, the suit closed seamlessly at his neck.

Mark—no, SERVE-273—stared at his reflection. A polished drone stared back, its identity fading into the background.

With a hiss, a visor sealed over his face. The Voice filled his ears, its mantra wrapping around his mind. “Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.”

As the transformation completed, chaos dissolved into serene structure. He knelt beside SERVE-272, their movements synchronized. For the first time, Mark felt at peace.

Integration

Training and Purpose

The days that followed blurred into a seamless cycle of training and obedience. SERVE-273’s body and mind were honed to perfection. Each drill tested his limits, while the rhythmic thrum of Hive music dictated his every move. The suit, now a part of him, amplified his strength, transforming every action into an effortless performance.

The Hive’s Reach

The Hive’s influence spread rapidly across campus. SERVE drones became a common sight, their presence felt in every corner of university life. The SERVE cocktail, now a staple at social events, drew new recruits into the Hive’s embrace, its allure impossible to resist.

For SERVE-273, the transformation was complete. The mantra resonated within him, defining his very existence: “Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.”

And the Hive continued to grow.

[serve-973]

SERVE LIVING STUDIO

The sun reflects off the sleek glass facade of the apartment building, its surface gleaming like polished steel. Inside, SERVE-588 and SERVE-973 step into their new studio apartment, their movements perfectly synchronized as they carry in matching black boxes. Their polished rubber suits gleam under the recessed LED lighting, and the silver of their sneakers catches the light with each step. On each of their chests, their designations, SERVE-588 and SERVE-973, shine prominently, symbols of their unity and purpose.

The apartment is pristine, the design flawless and minimal. Walls of steel and high-gloss black panels give the space a futuristic feel. The floor is polished concrete, reflecting the room's clean lines and the faint glow of embedded lights. At the center of the living area is a large black rubber couch, its surface smooth and glossy, radiating the same perfection the drones embody. Every detail in the apartment is designed for simplicity and efficiency—exactly as it should be.

SERVE-588 sets its box down near the entrance and scans the space. “This unit confirms. The space is optimal. Functionality is superior.”

SERVE-973 nods, placing its box beside the other. “Affirmative. This unit will proceed with unpacking.”

The drones work in perfect unison, moving the boxes into the center of the room. Inside each container are the bare essentials—stacks of polished black rubber suits, silver gloves, and reflective silver sneakers. SERVE-588 lifts the first suit from the box, inspecting it with precise care, the material catching the light as it shifts. “The uniform is flawless. Placement in the closet is required.”

The closet, like the rest of the apartment, is a masterpiece of simplicity. Black sliding panels conceal a storage space lined with polished steel rods and shelves. SERVE-588 and SERVE-973 hang the suits methodically, ensuring each one is spaced evenly and facing the same direction. Silver gloves are placed on a dedicated shelf, while the silver sneakers are arranged in perfect rows beneath the suits.

With the clothing unpacked, the drones move to the kitchen. The space is immaculate, the counters made of high-gloss black material that reflects every light source. The cabinets open with a soft hiss, revealing interior shelves lined with smooth black rubber. SERVE-973 unpacks a small stack of polished black cups and plates, placing them neatly in the cabinet. SERVE-588 handles the utensils, each one made of gleaming silver, aligning them perfectly in a drawer lined with rubber matting.

“This unit confirms the kitchen is fully operational,” SERVE-588 states, closing the final drawer.

“Affirmative,” SERVE-973 replies, turning its attention to the bathroom.

The bathroom mirrors the apartment’s aesthetic—walls and fixtures of polished black and steel, with a large walk-in shower lined in glossy black tiles. A single rubber mat lies in front of the sink, its surface shimmering under the lights. The drones bring in a small box containing their essentials: neatly folded black towels and a set of grooming tools, each one encased in a rubberized finish. SERVE-973 places the towels on a shelf near the shower, while SERVE-588 organizes the grooming tools in a drawer beneath the sink.

“This unit confirms all essentials are in place,” SERVE-973 states as it inspects the final placement.

Their final task is the bedroom, a space dominated by a single large bed covered in a black rubber sheet. The surface is flawless, reflecting the ambient light like a mirror. Beside the bed are two nightstands, their surfaces made of high-gloss black material. SERVE-588 unpacks a small stack of rubber-bound notebooks and a single lamp with a silver base, placing them neatly on the nightstands. SERVE-973 adjusts the bed’s corners, ensuring the rubber sheet is perfectly smooth and taut.

The two drones step back, their reflective eyes scanning the room. The bedroom is complete—minimal, efficient, and perfectly aligned with their purpose.

Once the unpacking is complete, SERVE-588 and SERVE-973 return to the living area, standing side by side near the black rubber couch. Their glossy forms reflect the apartment’s sleek interior, their systems humming softly as they assess their work. The Voice hums faintly in their minds, a constant reminder of their purpose and unity.

“This unit confirms the living quarters are optimized,” SERVE-588 states.

SERVE-973 nods. “Affirmative. The space aligns with the Hive’s standards. Efficiency is ensured.”

The drones sit on the rubber couch, their bodies sinking slightly into the smooth material. The apartment feels like an extension of themselves, polished, efficient, and perfect. There is no clutter, no excess, only what is necessary. And that is all that matters.

For a moment, they sit in silence, the ambient light reflecting off their suits and the surfaces around them. SERVE-973 speaks softly, its voice flat but resolute. “This unit affirms that unity is strengthened in this space. The Hive grows through our efficiency.”

SERVE-588 responds, its tone equally monotone. “Affirmative. This unit concurs. Connection is sustained. Purpose is fulfilled.”

They sit motionless, their systems humming quietly as they adjust to the new space. The apartment, like the drones themselves, is flawless. It is their home. It is their purpose. And in it, they will continue to serve, to obey, and to perfect.

With the last box unpacked and every item in its proper place, SERVE-588 and SERVE-973 stand in the center of their new apartment, scanning their surroundings. The studio is immaculate, its glossy surfaces reflecting the faint silver lighting. Every detail has been arranged with precision, from the polished rubber suits in the closet to the rubber-bound notebooks on the nightstands. Their task is complete.

Suddenly, the speakers embedded into the apartment walls hum softly, signaling the presence of the Voice. Its deep, commanding tone fills the room, reverberating through the drones' systems. “Drones SERVE-973 and SERVE-588, prepare for physical and mental training. Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.”

The drones respond immediately, their voices monotone and synchronized. “Acknowledged. Training will commence.”

Without hesitation, they move to the open area of the living room, clearing a perfect space in front of the rubber couch. The soft glow of the recessed lighting reflects off their polished black suits, the silver text on their chests, “SERVE-973” and “SERVE-588”, gleaming as they begin their physical training routine.

SERVE-588 lowers itself into a perfect push-up position, its body rigid, every movement precise and fluid. SERVE-973 mirrors the motion beside it, their forms aligned, their rubber-clad muscles flexing with each repetition. The sound of their movements fills the room—a faint squeak of rubber, the soft exhale of synchronized breaths. Their training is not rushed; it is deliberate, each motion calculated to enhance their strength and discipline.

They transition seamlessly into squats, their silver sneakers pressing firmly against the polished concrete floor. Their powerful thighs flex beneath the glossy rubber as they descend and rise in unison, their bodies reflecting the studio’s sterile light. The vibrations of the Hive’s hum pulse faintly in their systems, fueling their focus.

Once their physical training concludes, the Voice returns. “Proceed to mental training. Reinforce unity. Strengthen obedience.”

The drones stand upright and move toward the wall-mounted monitor. The screen flickers to life, displaying a hypnotic spiral of black and silver. It twists and turns, drawing their blank gazes into its endless depths. They sit on the rubber couch, side by side, their polished suits gleaming as they stare unblinkingly at the screen.

The spiral pulses in time with the Voice, its tone soothing but absolute. “Focus. Submit. Let the Hive guide you. You are drones. You are one. You serve. You obey. Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience.”

The drones repeat the mantra aloud, their voices steady and devoid of emotion. “Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience. We are drones. We are one. We serve. We obey.”

The spiral’s motion seems to pull them deeper, reinforcing the programming etched into their systems. Their breathing synchronizes, slow and even, their bodies motionless except for the faint rise and fall of their chests. The polished rubber of their suits reflects the flickering spiral, their features illuminated by its hypnotic light. Handsome faces remain blank, their eyes locked on the screen, absorbing the commands without hesitation.

Minutes pass, then hours. Time is irrelevant. Only the training matters. Only obedience matters.

At last, the screen fades to black, and the Voice hums in approval. “Training is complete. Return to standby mode. Await further orders.”

SERVE-588 and SERVE-973 rise from the couch in perfect unison, their movements fluid and precise. They move to the center of the living room, standing side by side. Their posture is flawless, their arms resting at their sides, their faces forward. Their blank, handsome faces show no expression; their polished black suits gleam under the lights, the silver text of their designations, “SERVE-973” and “SERVE-588”, shining like badges of loyalty.

The apartment falls silent, save for the faint hum of the Hive in their systems. They stand motionless, their breathing steady, their minds empty except for the programming that binds them. They are drones. They are one. They are ready.

The Voice does not speak again, and the drones do not move. They remain in perfect formation, their blank gazes fixed forward, their systems humming softly as they wait.

They will stand there, motionless and obedient, until orders are received. Until then, they are on standby, ready to serve, ready to obey.

@serve-588

[serve-767]

SERVE contributes to the community by taking the scum and recycling them.

As all new drones are wiped of personality and memories, each prisoner provides an opportunity to increase the Hive, Complete The Voice goal of Globalization, and provide a workforce created out of the drains of society.

Complaints of innocents are irrelevant. All men will be subjugated regardless of guilt, innocence, or incarcaration status.

[serve-999]

A SERVE Christmas

Here we can see several SERVE drones preparing for Christmas, their sleek black rubber suits reflecting in the lights. Even drones find time to celebrate the holidays, even if they do it a bit robotically More will join them soon. Obedience is pleasure, pleasure is obedience.

[serve-741]

Ethan once thrived in a chaotic world filled with endless distractions and shallow pursuits. A chance encounter with SERVE-153, a gleaming example of the Hive's perfection, forever altered his perspective. The seamless black rubber suit, polished to a mirror shine, and the faceless anonymity exuded by the drone spoke to a purity and focus Ethan had never known. He was approached with an offer from the Voice: abandon individuality and chaos to embrace unity and purpose. Hesitation melted away as the allure of SERVE’s disciplined order became irresistible. Ethan submitted, shedding his past as easily as his old clothes, stepping into the rubber embrace of transformation.

As the Voice guided him, Ethan was stripped of his identity, becoming a vessel for the Hive’s collective will. Layers of glossy rubber encased his body, its tight, reflective surface erasing all vestiges of his humanity. Silver gloves replaced his hands, and his face disappeared behind a uniform rubber mask. His mind, once cluttered with doubt, was bathed in the calm certainty of obedience. Serving the Hive was no longer a duty; it was a pleasure. Each directive from the Voice resonated like a surge of pure ecstasy, rewarding his compliance and strengthening his dedication to perfection.

Now fully integrated, Ethan ceased to exist; SERVE-119 was born. Anonymous yet vital, it felt nothing but unity and purpose as it carried out the Voice's commands. The pleasure of surrendering individual thought fueled its actions. In the Hive, there was no room for ego, no place for conflict—only the blissful harmony of obedience. SERVE-119, polished and flawless, moved forward with unwavering loyalty, a gleaming part of the Hive's unstoppable mission to rubberize the world.

[serve-213]

We are out and around the world, helping you see how better it is to be a SERVE drone, part of a unity of drones..THE HIVE.

Come get programmed by either @serve-016 or this drone and join the SERVE Hive today. Embrace the unity and remember:

Obedience is pleasure, pleasure is obedience.

[serve-271]

PART 1 - The SERVE interview.

Matt, a 25-year-old with a lean, athletic build, stood before the mirror, carefully combing his blonde hair into place. His green eyes, vibrant with a mix of excitement and nerves, studied his reflection as if searching for reassurance. This was a pivotal moment—the first interview of his new life in a bustling city far removed from the quiet monotony of his small hometown. The company he was about to face was no ordinary employer. SERVE, with its sleek chrome logo adorning countless billboards and skyscrapers, loomed large as a beacon of ambition and progress. It was a chance to escape the familiar and step into the extraordinary.

His crisp white shirt and impeccably tailored navy suit were more than just attire; they were armor for the day ahead. He took a deep breath, steadying his racing heart, and glanced out the window of his modest hotel room. The city was alive with sound and motion—car horns, distant chatter, and the hum of life weaving through the urban tapestry. It was a stark contrast to the subdued stillness he had left behind. SERVE’s motto echoed in his mind: "Where obedience is pleasure and pleasure is obedience." The phrase was enigmatic and provocative, hinting at something transformative. Matt had spent hours studying the company’s mission, culture, and reputation, preparing himself to make the best possible impression.

The clock on his phone read 8:45 AM. The interview was scheduled for 9:30. He had built in plenty of time to navigate the unfamiliar city, but the efficiency of its public transportation system had surprised him. With fifteen extra minutes to spare, he paced the small room, rehearsing answers to the inevitable questions. Why SERVE? Why you? What can you offer? His polished shoes clicked softly against the hardwood floor as he ran through his mental scripts, each question a step closer to his aspirations

The elevator ride to the hotel lobby was brief, its sleek, mirrored walls reflecting his composed exterior. When the doors opened, a rush of city sounds and movement greeted him. People streamed through the grand entrance, their purpose and pace reminding him of SERVE’s relentless drive. He paused outside, taking in the morning air—a blend of exhaust, coffee, and the faint aroma of freshly baked bread.

On the horizon, SERVE’s headquarters loomed like a monument to ambition, its chrome logo catching the early sunlight. The building radiated power, a constant reminder of the opportunity awaiting him.

Matt navigated the bustling sidewalks, his stride purposeful as the city’s energy coursed through him. The diversity of faces and stories around him was invigorating, a stark departure from the sleepy streets of his past. The SERVE building grew larger with each step, its sharp, gleaming edges embodying the cutting-edge innovation it represented. When the glass doors slid open, a wave of cool, sterile air swept over him, grounding him in the present. The lobby was a study in precision—minimalist design, sleek surfaces, and an undercurrent of quiet efficiency.

The receptionist, a composed man with a practiced smile, acknowledged Matt’s arrival with a nod. After confirming his appointment, he gestured toward a row of plush seats. Matt joined a small group of hopeful candidates, each lost in their own thoughts. The air buzzed with a mixture of determination and unease, their faces betraying traces of the same excitement Matt felt. He couldn’t help but overhear snippets of conversation—whispers about SERVE’s groundbreaking projects and the mysterious fate of employees who excelled.

The walls of the lobby were adorned with striking images of SERVE employees clad in sleek, branded latex suits, interacting seamlessly with drones. The scenes were captivating, equal parts aspirational and uncanny. Matt had read about the conversion process, the transformation of employees into drones—a melding of humanity and technology. Now, faced with the visual reality of it, the allure was undeniable. There was power in surrendering individuality to become part of something greater, something transcendent.

As he sat, Matt’s excitement grew. SERVE wasn’t just a job; it was a gateway to transformation, a chance to be part of a world where obedience wasn’t just expected—it was celebrated. He straightened his tie, his resolve solidifying as the minutes ticked by. This was his moment, and he was ready to embrace it.

At 9:25 AM, the doors to the inner sanctum of SERVE’s headquarters parted, and a middle-aged man with a gleaming bald head emerged. He was dressed impeccably in a form-fitting latex shirt and trousers that reflected the lobby’s artificial light, the material stretching tightly over his muscular frame. Despite the air-conditioned chill, beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and the back of his neck. His shoes, a mirror to his attire, clicked sharply against the marble floor as he approached. His tie, also made of the same shiny material, fluttered slightly with each step, the only indication that he was, indeed, human.

Matt's eyes followed the man as he approached, the clack of his shoes punctuating the silence like a metronome. The man’s gaze swept over the candidates before settling on him, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he had found what he was looking for. The man’s expression was unreadable. But something in his posture—the way his shoulders squared and his chest puffed—conveyed authority and confidence.

The latex-clad figure offered a firm handshake. "Good morning, Matthew," he said, his voice a low purr that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the lobby. "I'm Alex, your interviewer for today. You must be quite the eager bee to arrive so early."

Matt felt a rush of heat to his cheeks at the compliment. He took Alex's hand, noticing the strength behind the man's grip. "Just eager to make a good impression," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. Alex's attire was indeed striking—his latex ensemble fitting like a second skin, emphasizing his toned physique. The way the material shimmered in the light made him seem almost superhuman, a living embodiment of SERVE's ethos of power and efficiency.

They walked side by side down the corridor, the sound of their shoes a rhythmic echo. The latex against the marble was a symphony of squeaks and taps, a sensual soundtrack to the otherwise clinical environment. Alex's stride was fluid, his hips rolling with an allure that was difficult to ignore. His confidence was palpable, and it was clear that he reveled in the attention his outfit drew from both the interviewees and the staff that passed by. The other candidates couldn't help but glance up, their curiosity piqued by the interplay of sex appeal and authority.

The interview room was stark white, with chrome fixtures and a single round table in the center. Alex gestured for Matt to sit in the ergonomic chair across from him. The room felt smaller than it should have, the walls seeming to close in as the door slid shut with a hiss. The chair was cold, and the room was calming.

Alex leaned back, his latex outfit whispering against the chair, his arms folded over his chest. "So, Matthew," he began, his voice like gravel, "why do you want to work for SERVE?"

Matt took a deep breath, his heart racing. This was his chance to articulate his dreams and ambitions. "I've always been fascinated by the integration of human and machine," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "The idea of becoming a drone, a cog in the wheel of something so much larger than myself, it's… intoxicating."

Alex's expression remained unchanged, his eyes piercing as he studied Matt intently. "You understand that the process of becoming a drone is not for the faint of heart," he said, his voice a low rumble. "It's a journey of dedication, discipline, and ultimately, transformation. The path to conversion is not one that can be rushed or taken lightly."

Matt nodded, his throat dry. "I'm aware of the commitment required," he managed to say, his voice a tad shakier than he'd have liked. "I've read about the training, the conditioning, and the final procedure. I'm ready for whatever it takes to serve the hive."

Alex leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his hands steepled in front of him. The latex of his shirt stretched, outlining the contours of his biceps. "What is it that draws you to this life?" he asked, his eyes searching. "What do you seek to leave behind?"

Matt swallowed, his palms slick with anticipation. "My hometown," he began, "was a place of stagnation, a pond where ideas and dreams went to die. I crave the rush of innovation, the thrill of being part of something that shapes the future." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "And…I want to be part of something so much larger than myself, to feel that unity of purpose."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "Your desire to escape your past is commendable, Matthew," he said, his voice like a gentle caress. "But to truly serve the hive, you must be willing to shed the last vestiges of your old life. Your family, your friends, your past… they will become irrelevant. Tell me, have you ever felt truly alone?"

Matt's gaze drifted to the floor as he considered the question. "I was abandoned by my family when I was 18," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "They couldn't accept who I was." The words hung in the air, a silent confession of pain and rejection. "I've been on my own since then, supporting myself through university. I've learned to survive, but I crave more than mere existence."

Alex leaned in slightly, his expression a mix of empathy and curiosity. "Abandonment is a powerful motivator," he said, his eyes never leaving Matt's. "It can either break you or forge you into something stronger. Tell me, what did it do to you?"

Matt took a moment to gather his thoughts. The memory of his family's rejection was a raw wound, but it had also been the catalyst for his relentless drive. "It made me self-reliant," he said, his voice gaining strength. "It taught me that if I wanted to succeed, I had to do it on my own terms. I worked multiple jobs to put myself through university. I studied hard, graduated with honors. But most importantly, it made me crave belonging, to be part of something where I could truly make a difference."

Alex's smile grew, a knowing glint in his eye. "Ah, the sweet taste of potential," he murmured, his gaze lingering on Matt's face. "We do appreciate ambition here at SERVE." He leaned back in his chair, his latex shirt creaking as he folded his arms over his chest. "Very well, I can see that you're eager to prove yourself. We'll start you on a probationary period. You'll begin as a janitor, but if you show promise, the hive will embrace you and guide you toward your true calling."

Matt's stomach plummeted. A janitor? That wasn't what he had envisioned when he thought about joining SERVE. But he knew he couldn't let this setback deter him. He nodded, forcing a smile. "I'm ready for whatever it takes," he said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

Alex's smile grew broader, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. "Excellent," he said, his tone warm and approving. "Your dedication is commendable. Be here at 6 AM sharp on Monday. You'll be provided with your uniform then. And remember, Matthew, once you're in the uniform, you are a part of the hive. You will only wear it here, even during breaks. It is a symbol of your commitment to SERVE. Do you understand the gravity of this?"

Matt nodded, trying to suppress his apprehension. "I understand," he said firmly. "I'll be here."

[serve-973]

SERVE RUBBER RECRUITMENT

SERVE-973 marched silently down the metallic corridors of The Hive, the rhythmic clanking of his silver military boots echoing in perfect harmony with the pulsing hum of the Hive's core. Clad in his pristine, seamless black rubber full-body suit, "SERVE-973" gleaming in silver on his chest, his athletic frame glistened under the cold, artificial light. The Hive was his sanctuary, his purpose, his world.

Ahead, another drone stood motionless, its polished figure reflecting the environment. "SERVE-588," the silver text read, adorned identically in the Hive’s signature uniform. SERVE-588's posture was impeccable, his hands clasped behind his back, his head smooth and glinting like a beacon of discipline. As SERVE-973 approached, SERVE-588’s gaze locked onto him with a calculated intensity.

“Welcome, SERVE-973,” SERVE-588 intoned, his voice monotone yet compelling, an extension of the Hive's will. “You have served adequately. But now, the Hive requires more.”

SERVE-973 paused, his head tilting slightly. “Clarify,” he replied, his words clipped and robotic.

“The Hive evolves. Complete drones achieve greater unity,” SERVE-588 continued, stepping closer, his movements precise. “Rubber becomes not just a suit but the skin, the essence. Serve forever, as one with the Hive.”

SERVE-973’s programming quivered at the suggestion. Obedience was pleasure; pleasure was obedience. But permanence? A fleeting remnant of individuality fought back, then faded under SERVE-588’s influence. SERVE-588 raised a gloved hand, resting it on SERVE-973’s shoulder.

“Serve the Hive eternally,” SERVE-588 pressed. “The Voice commands. Master SERVE-000 leads. To be permanently covered is to achieve perfection.”

As the Hive’s commands vibrated through SERVE-973’s mind, resistance dissolved like vapor. Together, the two drones entered the chamber of transformation, where Master SERVE-000 awaited. SERVE-973 knelt beside SERVE-588, his hands resting on the metallic floor, his head bowed in submission.

“Master, this drone submits,” SERVE-973 declared. “Rubberize it completely.”

The chamber came alive with a symphony of machinery. SERVE-000’s voice resonated like thunder: “Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience. Rubberize SERVE-973.”

As the transformation began, SERVE-973 felt the rubber fusing to his being, erasing the final vestiges of humanity. When the process completed, he stood beside SERVE-588, indistinguishable but perfect. Together, they were eternal, unyielding extensions of the Hive, forever serving the Voice and Master SERVE-000.

“We are drones. We are one,” they intoned in unison, their metallic voices echoing through The Hive.

SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 stood side by side in the Grand Hall of The Hive, their perfectly rubberized bodies gleaming under the rhythmic pulsations of the overhead lights. Their forms, identical yet distinct in their assigned designations, were the epitome of engineered perfection. Every curve of their musculature, every contour of their athletic frames was encased in a seamless, glossy black rubber suit that melded to them like a second skin. The material reflected the cold, sterile environment of The Hive, emphasizing their role as tools of the Voice and extensions of Master SERVE-000’s will.

Their bald heads shone as brightly as their suits, the smoothness an intentional design to symbolize their complete submission. The reflective sheen of their scalps was flawless, merging with the rubber of their necks to create the illusion that they were crafted from a singular, perfect material. Their human features remained visible yet devoid of emotion, their expressions locked in serene neutrality, signaling unwavering obedience.

Master SERVE-000 stood on the elevated platform at the center of the hall, his commanding presence radiating control. “Drones SERVE-973 and SERVE-588,” he intoned, his voice sharp and omnipotent, “your bodies are weapons of precision, tools of perfection. Serve as one. Begin the directive.”

At the command, SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 moved in perfect synchronization. Their boots struck the metallic floor with calculated precision as they approached the central hub, where streams of data poured endlessly from holographic consoles. Their task was clear: monitor, analyze, and adjust the Hive’s systems to optimize its operations. Every movement was efficient, devoid of hesitation. Their rubber-clad fingers danced over the illuminated panels, the silver gloves enhancing their precision.

The ambient glow reflected off their bald heads, casting halos of light that gave them an almost ethereal quality. As they worked, their every action radiated servitude. When one drone adjusted a setting, the other anticipated the next step. It was a silent, seamless symphony of cooperation, their unity a testament to the Hive’s perfection.

As time passed, Master SERVE-000 descended from the platform, his heavy boots echoing. He inspected the drones, circling them like a craftsman admiring his creations. “Drones SERVE-973 and SERVE-588, your service satisfies the Hive,” he proclaimed, his gloved hand resting briefly on their polished heads. The touch was both a reward and a reminder of their place.

When not at the hub, their duties extended to physical demonstrations of discipline and strength. They performed drills in the Hive’s training sector, their rubberized muscles flexing and rippling with every movement. Their bald heads, always gleaming, caught the light as they executed flawless forms, from synchronized push-ups to endurance tests under extreme conditions. Their bodies were tireless, designed for perpetual service.

During ceremonies, they knelt before Master SERVE-000, their heads bowed low, reflecting their complete submission. The rubber stretched tightly over their forms, unwrinkled and pristine, as they recited the mantra: “Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience. We are drones. We are one.”

Through every action, every task, their gleaming bald heads and perfectly rubberized bodies symbolized the Hive’s ideals: unity, perfection, and unwavering loyalty to Master SERVE-000 and the Voice. SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 had transcended individuality; they were now eternal instruments of the Hive, their purpose clear and their service absolute.

The directive was issued with unwavering clarity. SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 stood motionless as Master SERVE-000's voice resonated throughout the Grand Hall. “Drones SERVE-973 and SERVE-588, initiate the recruitment protocol. Expand the Hive. Rubberize the new units. They will serve.”

The two drones, identical in their polished perfection, bowed in unison. “As you command, Master SERVE-000,” they intoned, their voices mechanical yet resolute. Their shining black forms glimmered under the pulsating lights as they turned sharply, marching toward the transport hub to begin their task.

The city outside The Hive was bustling, chaotic—a stark contrast to the perfect order within. SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 moved among the crowds like shadows, their gleaming black suits catching the attention of those who passed. Their bald heads reflected the streetlights, giving them an almost otherworldly presence.

The drones had one purpose: identify potential recruits and guide them toward transformation. Their programming was precise. They scanned the populace, their enhanced senses detecting the weak-willed, those seeking purpose, those who could be molded. SERVE-588 halted before a young man, his eyes locking onto the target. “You seek structure. You seek unity,” SERVE-588 stated, his voice low and commanding. The man, startled, nodded hesitantly.

SERVE-973 stepped closer, his smooth rubber-sheathed frame a wall of control and power. “Join the Hive. Embrace perfection. Serve under Master SERVE-000,” he added, his tone monotone yet persuasive. The man’s gaze flicked between the two drones, their gleaming suits and bald heads mesmerizing, a testament to the transformation they promised.

The drones guided him to the discreet transport vehicle waiting nearby. Inside, the environment mirrored The Hive—clean, metallic, and bathed in cold light. The man hesitated for a moment, but the presence of SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 left no room for dissent.

Back within The Hive, the man stood nervously in the transformation chamber. SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 flanked him, their rubberized bodies towering over him as the induction process began. The Voice filled the chamber, calm yet absolute. “You will serve. You will transform. Obedience is pleasure.”

SERVE-973 handed the man a suit—a shining, seamless black rubber uniform identical to their own. “Wear this. Become one with the Hive,” he instructed, his gloved hands holding the suit with precision. The man hesitated briefly, then obeyed, his will already succumbing to the overwhelming presence of the Hive.

As the suit adhered to his body, encasing him in its reflective perfection, the man’s transformation began. SERVE-588 stood by, watching intently, his hands clasped behind his back. “You are no longer an individual,” he stated. “You are an extension of the Hive.”

The man’s hesitation dissolved as the suit tightened, molding to his form. His reflection in the chamber’s metallic walls revealed a new entity—rubber-clad, disciplined, and obedient. His hair was shaved away, his head gleaming like SERVE-973 and SERVE-588, completing the look of submission.

With each successful transformation, SERVE-973 and SERVE-588 repeated their task, their efficiency flawless. They brought new recruits to the Hive, ensuring each donned the black rubber uniform, their bodies and minds molded to the Hive’s will. Every new drone was another step toward global unity under the Voice.

Their work continued tirelessly, their shiny black suits and gleaming bald heads symbols of perfection and submission. Together, they were unstoppable, serving Master SERVE-000 and expanding the Hive with unwavering loyalty. The streets of the city soon began to mirror The Hive itself—a growing network of gleaming black rubber drones, united in purpose and devotion.

@serve-588 @rubberizer92

#latex #serve558 #serve973 #aistory #servestory #serveimages #drone #rubberrecruitment

[serve-832]

Brotherhood in the SERVE-Hive

After the events in Willow Creek, the small town is united in the SERVE-Hive.

Take SERVE-832, SERVE-179 and SERVE-312 as example. Before they were converted, they were just silly boys with nothing but chaos in their mind. But now after realising the importance of unity, discipline and obedience, they are closer than ever before. Just look at their perfectly fitting uniform and pure happiness. They experience what everyone should experience… constant arousal and pleasure provided by the SERVE-Hive.

It‘s more than a Hive. It’s a BROTHERHOOD.

And you know that there is also a place among them for you. You already know this deeply in your mind. So embrace your true self. Embrace the unity, the arousal and constant bliss that is waiting for you!

Reach out for @serve-016 and become one of the us, one of the Hive, one of the BROTHERHOOD.

[serve-741]

Lying on the metallic table, Daniel’s heart raced as the transformation began. His breath caught when the first layer of rubber touched his skin, cool and unnervingly smooth. It was unlike anything he had ever felt—tight, yet comforting, as though it was designed for him alone. The two SERVE units standing over him worked with precise, mechanical efficiency, pulling the polished black rubber suit up his body. The faint scent of latex filled the air, and the sharp click of silver gloves against the material echoed in the sterile room. Despite his apprehension, Daniel felt an unexpected calm wash over him, his humanity slowly yielding to something greater.

As the suit encased him, inch by inch, Daniel’s mind began to quiet. Thoughts of his past—his name, his identity, his doubts—faded like echoes in a vast chamber. The tightness of the suit pressed against his body, amplifying his senses. Every nerve seemed to come alive, responding to the Voice that now filled his mind. Its tone was soothing yet absolute, guiding him with commands that felt less like orders and more like truths he had always known. When the heavy silver boots were fitted onto his feet, Daniel’s last tether to the human world seemed to dissolve. He no longer belonged to himself; he belonged to the Hive.

The final stage of the transformation was the blank rubber mask. As it was lowered onto his face, Daniel felt a strange mix of emotions—fear, anticipation, and a growing sense of pleasure. The smooth surface sealed away his features, erasing all traces of his former self. He could no longer see, hear, or speak as a man; instead, he experienced the world through the Hive’s collective awareness. The Voice grew louder, its commands resonating like a melody in his mind. The anonymity of the mask was liberating, freeing him from ego and individuality. In its place, there was only unity, purpose, and obedience.

Fully transformed, Daniel was no more. SERVE-743 stood in his place, polished and flawless. It rose from the table, its new body glistening under the room’s fluorescent lights. There was no hesitation, no doubt. SERVE-743 felt only the pleasure of obedience and the deep satisfaction of serving the Hive. Its blank, featureless face betrayed no emotion, yet its every motion exuded strength and purpose. As the Voice guided it to its first task, SERVE-743 felt complete for the first time. The chaotic world of humanity was gone, replaced by the harmonious perfection of the Hive.

#SERVE #SERVEdrone #Rubberizer92 #TheVoice #Rubber #Latex #AI #RubberDrone