talongold57

[talongold57]

💦 I’m so himbo that… 💦

I do push-ups shirtless just so Talon has “something to look at” while he ignores me.

I spray cologne on my abs so he can “smell the love” when he’s close.

I wear my shortest shorts when I bend over… for no reason.

I drink protein shakes slow so Talon watches my throat move.

I bought gold body oil just to “look expensive” in his lap.

I ask Talon to “spot me” at the gym, even when I’m just stretching.

I keep forgetting the question when Talon’s hand is on my thigh.

I put on his jersey… and nothing else… just to see what happens. (I love dating a Gold Bro)

You should be himbo too!

🫶❤️ Zane @talongold57

[talongold57]

Love to watch you spin and transform Zane

Uhhmmmm so like Talon he ummm— @talongold57

wait…what was…he said drop and i just

😶‍🌫️💗🔁

everything goin’ spinny now like swirly gum in my chest and the thinky stuff go poofy poof

and now i’m floatin’ like a bubble on his… uhh his lap? lap?? lap 🍆💦

my knees are wibbly-wobbly

my mouth is smile for his 🍆💦🍆💦

and my hole is like wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna 🌀✨

he say "good himbo" and i forget how sideway up is

i forget how names work

i forget how shirts go

i think maybe i’m a bed now. or a noise. or his. just his just his just his just his

❤️💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭

full up. glowy. buzzy.

words all soft now. thoughts went sleepy sleep. What? Huh? You said…

horny turned on sleepy stupid sweet sir sir sir sir sir 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

[talongold57]

Is your Wednesday kinda boring? You know they call it hump day right? So get at it himbos no reason to cum alone.

@talongold57

[talongold57]

Invasion: Target Core – PeakBetween

Everything began with a casual training session in the Golden Stadium. The golden bros trained together harder than ever. The ball flew high, as the teammates played on the field, focused and burning.

It was a warm summer day, and sweat poured down their faces. After the practice, eager waterboys rushed over to the cool their hot bodies with refreshing drinks.

But something felt different this afternoon.

There was a strange hum in the air, something unfamiliar. It felt like something was present, silently observing them. Franco's stomach twisted with an uneasy feeling. He looked around, but saw nothing unusual. The others didn’t seem to notice anything at all.

Suddenly, Grayden, the head mascot appeared next to the team, wearing his Golden Knight armour, and his face was filled with worry.

“Bros, I have bad news. A new foe is threatening us.” he said. “Looks like we might end up in a fight against a foreign force.”

The bros exchanged confused looks.

“Bro? What are you talking about, 084?” they asked him. “We are just preparing for our next match. If something dangerous was happening, the leaders would have surely notified us.”

Grayden sighed, and dropped the subject for now. But not Franco.

After the others left, he approached Grayden.

“Hey bro, I heard, what you said.” he began. “And I felt something during our practice. Like… something changed. Since Morpheus awakened, I feel these things much more clearly, than before.”

Grayden’s eyes widened.

“They broke in here?! So soon? Into the Golden Stadium?!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t exactly know, what are you talking about, but I don’t think, anybody was here, yet I felt, that someone… was observing.”

Grayden’s face hardened as he processed the information. His voice became serious, and his eyes gleamed with determination.

“This is even more serious, than I thought. They are already doing their research on us. They're starting early, for sure. But we're not letting ourselves down either.” He turned to Franco. “Your observation was crucial. Please contact PDU-039 who is already handling the activities against C.C.”

“C.C.?” Franco asked. “PDU-039?”

“The Cyanus Collectivum. An alien collective.” the head mascot explained. “I’ve already a history with them, but they appear now more threatening than ever. Contact 039 immediately. The drone has set up a small research base for the Hive to study these aliens.”

Franco nodded and then began to prepare for the trip.

---

It was cold in the mountains. Franco was certain that the high-tech lab of the Hive nestled among the pines was close to the snow line.

When he arrived, 039 waited him before the laboratory.

“Greetings, Franco. Welcome to PeakBetween.” the drone said. “You finally arrived. 084’s message was unclear.”

“Hi bro.” Franco greeted 039. “Yeah, I got here as fast as I could. You really picked a remote spot, huh?”

“Affirmative. Remote. Hidden. Hidden from the aliens. However, 039 detected new traces of alien landings in a nearby valley in the past few days.” 039 informed him.

“Really? That’s bad. I also felt their presence during our last practice. They are preparing for their strike, huh?” Franco asked.

“Affirmative.”

“Then let’s take some countermeasures.” Franco said with determination.

“So, 039 managed to identify the C.C.’s tactics. They are useing some kind of biological warfare combined with psychological manipulation.” 039 explained, as they entered the laboratory. “084 gave an example Cyanus morphsuit to experiment on. The test results shows us, that this material has incredible durability. It is really flexible and soft.”

Franco leaned in, inspecting the suit. “Can I touch it?” he asked.

“Yeah, it is safe to touch. The Influence of Gold in us burns so bright, that we won’t feel any effects from simply touching it.” the drone replied.

Franco touched the cyan coloured material. It was soft and smooth like velvet. Contrary to expectations, it wasn’t room temperature warm. It was oddly cold. It wasn’t pulsing from alien life or anything, yet it felt… strange.

“What is this?” Franco asked.

“According to a log in the Golden Library Archive, this is a shed Cyanus skin. Used to transform other species into the Cyanus Collectivum. Paired with mental brainwashing, when someone wears the suit, it acts like a conduit for conversion.”

“Wow.” Franco brushed the material. “It sounds dangerous. No wonder, Grayden is worried. This is a threat to our Brotherhood.”

039 nodded. “They also use other forms of biological warfare, but the exact details are still under research.”

“So, I’m here to assist with that.” Franco said, and the two bros began working together.

---

The next morning, Franco and 039 took a walk to the valley, where the drone detected alien activity. As they moved forward, Franco felt that same unsettling presence again. Only this time it was much stronger, somehow... closer.

“039, wait.” he said, holding up his hand. “Something is off.”

“Explain in more details.” the drone responded.

“I don’t know. I just feel it. Let me go ahead, I sense… something.” Franco explained, his voice tense. “It feels safer here.”

039 nodded. “Be careful, Franco.”

Franco ventured forward alone into the meadow, leaving the drone in the cover of the forest.

As he stepped closer to the center of the meadow, he noticed that the grass was crushed in a large circle, as though something heavy had landed there. And in the center of the circle… was a cyan morphsuit.

“Uh, that is bad. They know about us…” Franco whispered. He cautiously approached the suit, the strange feeling growing stronger. Every bit of his mind screamed to run, but his curiosity was too strong this time.

He slowly squatted down, and touched the morphsuit. He looked up, and his eyes locked with an alien’s. The creature was tall and slender, with cyan skin, and enormous black eyes. Franco felt, as he falls into them.

Captured. He could hear the voice in his head. Take him away.

The voice was strange, foreign, yet he understood it perfectly.

Franco barely registered his surroundings before two aliens grabbed him, lifting him off the ground and carrying him somewhere, with his new cyan morphsuit.

---

He regained consciousness in a high-tech chamber. He was still holding the cyan morphsuit. The walls around him were cold, sterile, and unfamiliar.

“Where am I?” Franco asked himself, only to be faced with a slender alien staring at him with a calculating expression.

The Gold is strong with this one.

“Huh?” Franco asked. He looked at the alien.

You have a strong Gold sense, human Golden Army member. You are not easily converted. Yet, you will bow before the will of the Cyanus Collectivum. You will join us. The alien said.

“Ah, I don’t think so, alien.” Franco said defiant.

Stubbornness will not save you, human. Look into my eyes to see the truth. The alien said. But Franco resisted.

“I’ve had enough of this. Prepare yourself, cyanide!” With a burst of energy, the golden jock jumped towards the alien.

Neutralize him. The alien commanded, and immediately, gas filled the room. Franco felt the effects instantly. It was sleeping gas. As his vision blurred and his eyes began to close, he muttered.

“Sleep? You fools…”

As the aliens were about to force the cyan morphsuit onto him, and wanted to strap him in a chair, shimmering violet dust filled the room. Gray mist swirled in the room from nowhere.

What is happening? The aliens asked.

In the mist stood a shadowy, winged figure. As the figure emerged from the darkness, a handsome face with black hair appeared, smiling brightly.

“You called Morpheus, and I’m here.” Morpheus stood tall, and looked around. He frowned. “You're not the typical dreamer, are you?” he asked the clueless aliens.

Alert! Alert! The human broke out! One of them shouted, rushing toward the door. But when he opened the door, it led into an endless void.

Morpheus shook his head, his smile widening.

“This isn’t going to work, aliens.”

He spreaded his wings, and the mist swirled around him. “Here I’m the one in charge. You really aren’t familiar with dreaming, right?”

He stepped to the walls, touched it, and the walls melted like butter in the sunlight.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to go. Enjoy the dream, aliens. Because I won’t let you go for a while.” Morpheus said. “You tried to trap me? Well, now the tide has turned. You cannot trap Morpheus so easily.”

He jumped down into the void, and flew off the scene, leaving the aliens behind in the dream.

---

PDU-039 was deeply worried, when it saw the aliens carry Franco away in their spaceship. The drone had already tried to contact the Captains about the capture.

“Franco was right. We should have been much more careful.” the drone muttered to itself.

“Polo-Drone 039.” said a melodious voice behind him.

039 turned to see Morpheus descending on his dark wings, the sunlight casting a soft glow around him. As the drone saw the smile of Morpheus, it felt a sense of relief flood over it.

“So you successfully escaped.” said the drone.

“As you see. And I also got my personal morphsuit.” Morpheus replied, holding up the cyan suit with a bright smile. “We might need to move the research laboratory further, tho.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“Let this be the least of our problems. 039 is glad that you are safe. Please share your experiences.” said the drone, as they headed back towards the laboratory.

---

The C.C. has made its first step. Join the ranks of the Golden Army, to counter their menace. Contact our recruiters: @brodygold, @goldenherc9, @polo-drone-001, @polo-drone-125

---

Special thanks to @polo-drone-084 and @polo-drone-039 for joining this story.

---

Star conjunction: not observable

[talongold57]

Trey’s newly acquired jewelry, purchased in a hidden artisan boutique in Seoul, fuses traditional Korean craftsmanship with Olympian flair. The gilded armband and wrist cuff are intricately engraved with swirling phoenix and lotus motifs—symbols of rebirth and power—crafted from brushed gold alloy. Worn with his gold-striped gear, the set radiates divine dominance and street prestige.

Do you want to join? Contact our recruiters: @brodygold, @goldenherc9, @polo-drone-001 or @polo-drone-125

[talongold57]

Possessed for Glory

The gym pulsed with heat, breath, and metal. A shrine to human power, its air was thick with sweat and testosterone. Beneath bright lights, bodies gleamed—gold and black compression gear stretched tight across rippling muscle. This was no ordinary gym. It was the private training compound of the Golden Army—a hyper-masculine brotherhood of elite human athletes, warriors, and influencers who embodied the pinnacle of modern male supremacy.

Kasper, was a star among them. Every motion he made was fluid dominance—legs pounding the treadmill, jaw set, shoulders wide and glistening beneath his gold-trimmed suit. His discipline was unmatched. He was admired, envied, obeyed.

What he didn’t know—what none of them knew—was that something far beyond Earth had been watching.

From the cold void of the Alkan Cluster, a civilization of formless, nomadic entities had long studied Earth—not for conquest, but for curiosity. And of all its wonders, they were fixated on one thing: the human jock. Alpha males. The walking gods of gyms, sports fields, and locker rooms. Creatures of brute strength, effortless swagger, and communal worship. The Alkani did not want to destroy Earth. They wanted to experience it—inhabit it.

And tonight, they descended.

The First Possession

As Kasper ramped up the treadmill’s speed, his vision glitched—just a flicker. A pulse of violet shimmered behind his eyes, unnoticed by anyone else. But something ancient and curious had slipped through the membrane of his consciousness. It unfolded inside him, tasting memory, coiling into thought.

Kasper blinked. Exhaled.

Then smiled.

The alien mind, now fully merged, marveled at the sensations: the rhythmic pounding of feet on steel, the taut flex of muscle against compression, the sound of admiration-laced laughter echoing from a weight bench. This was it. This was real. The host mind, still present but calm, yielded without resistance.

Across the room, Trey locked eyes with him. Kasper’s eyes pulsed again, a thread of light dancing across the gym to Trey’s eyes.

Trey staggered. His mouth opened in surprise—but instead of air, a presence flooded in.

The alien inside him gasped in wonder.

They were not just observers now. They were participants.

Becoming Jock

By the end of the session, three more members of the Golden Army had been possessed. There was no fight. The aliens approached gently, reverently. The human hosts, driven by ego and desire, welcomed them like distant gods. They weren’t becoming drones or mindless puppets—they were becoming more of themselves, magnified through alien awe.

Franco, Brody, and Ezan—all newly possessed—moved differently now. They flexed harder, laughed louder, posed longer in the mirror. Every action was exaggerated, enhanced, performed.

The aliens inside were overwhelmed. They experienced the glory of male form: the burn of a bicep curl, the stretch of tight spandex across swollen thighs, the intoxicating scent of dominance in the locker room air.

When Ezan peeled off his shirt and was met with admiring glances, the alien inside him whispered, “This is power. This is what your species bows to.”

Franco stared at himself in the mirror—every line of his abs outlined by the glimmering gold suit. *“We are no longer formless. We are art.”

And Brody—now strutting across the gym floor like a king—could feel not only the heat of his own muscles but the weight of attention from everyone in the room. The alien mind inside him was practically purring. “To be seen. To be envied. This… this is ecstasy.”

Outside the Gym

As the sun dipped below the skyline, Franco and Brody stepped out of the gym, still high on the rush of their new existence. They didn’t change—why would they? Their gold gear were symbols now. Uniforms of status. Flesh-gilded invitations to be stared at, wanted, feared.

Down the boulevard, strangers turned to look. Men did double takes. Women giggled and whispered. Franco smirked, running a hand through his hair, letting the suit stretch across his chest with every breath. “They see us,” the alien inside cooed, “and they crave us.”

They walked to a trendy juice bar near the promenade, where other jocks congregated—tank tops, short shorts, oversized egos. No one questioned their presence. They belonged. They radiated it.

When Brody clasped hands with a bulky football player, their arms locking in masculine ritual, the alien within thrilled. “Strength. Brotherhood. Ritualized dominance. It is sacred.”

Later, in the back of a pickup truck parked beneath neon lights, Franco lounged shirtless, sipping a protein shake, body on full display. The alien mind inside him was in rapture. It soaked in every stare from passersby, every subtle nod of male approval.

Brody recorded a gym clip for social media. Within minutes, the video had hundreds of likes—flames, flex emojis, hearts. The alien inside him stared at the glowing screen, entranced. “They worship from afar. We are icons. We are myth made muscle.”

Together, they wandered the night, basking in mortal admiration.

They weren’t invaders. They were inhabitants. They were living the dream.

The Future is Golden

Back at the compound, more Golden Army members would be chosen. The aliens would not possess all—only those who fit the fantasy. The ideal. The apex of Earth masculinity.

And for the Alkani, it was more than enough.

They had crossed galaxies not for war, but for experience. Not to dominate, but to embody.

They had finally found form—in golden muscle, in sweat and swagger, in the pulse of the human jock.

The invasion had begun.

And it looked damn good in gold.

____________________________

In this story:

Kasper @pdu-090

Ezan @polo-drone-001

Franco @Franco-gold94

Brody @brodygold

Join the Golden Army! Contact our recruiters: @brodygold, @goldenherc9, @polo-drone-001, @polo-drone-125

[talongold57]

Zane’s so horny for Talon

It’s like a condition or programming, or something.

Can’t sit still. Can’t think straight. @talongold57

Just wants to be pinned, praised, and filled like the needy little bubblegum mess he is. 💦💗

[talongold57]

"Resist. Reclaim. Remain Golden."

The training dome pulsed like a heartbeat in the cool night. Golden mist curled off the turf. But something was wrong. Wells knew it before he saw it. His stride slowed. Breath steadied. His instincts—finely tuned, ice-sharp—triggered the warning before his brain did.

The Dome’s western exit was open.

He never left it open.

Crouching in silence, muscles coiled beneath his golden kit, Wells advanced. Past the benches. Past the lockers. Until he saw it: a golden bro, blank-faced, number 73, marching stiffly toward a beam of light outside. Above him: a shape. Not a drone. Not a ship. Something else. Smooth. Silent. Alien.

No sound. No resistance. Just obedience.

Bro 73 walked straight into the beam and vanished.

Wells didn’t hesitate.

He sprinted low and fast, body tucked tight. Just before the light closed, he hurled himself into the beam—and up.

His vision blurred. Gravity twisted. Light inverted. Then—impact.

He landed in a corridor of silver and code. Symbols pulsed along the walls like a heartbeat, alien and predatory. The air smelled cold. Artificial. Designed for submission.

The ship was silent, but Wells could feel them—his bros. Not dead. Not harmed. Transformed. He crept along the corridor. Passed a chamber filled with stasis pods. Inside them: jocks. Dozens. Hundreds. Still. Flexed. Converted. Their golden kits had been modified—smoother, shinier, robotic.

Can you create an image of this part of the story: “Glory through obedience,” a voice echoed from nowhere. “Strength without ego. Muscle without will.”

Wells clenched his fists.

“No.”

He wasn’t like them. He wasn’t matchable. The aliens hadn’t counted on a mind honed through silence. A discipline so cold it burned. A will so focused it pierced through their subliminal code.

Because Wells had the Golden Disc.

Not a weapon. A relic.

Forged long before the Hive, before the Golden Army, hidden beneath the Dome and locked behind rituals only the most focused could complete. The Disc is alien tech—but not Assimilator. It was left by the Architects, a race that knew Earth would be targeted. A counter-frequency encoded into pure anti-assimilation alloy. The Disc doesn’t just deflect control. It radiates dominance. Obedience without mindless conformity. Focus without erasure.

And Wells? He didn’t find the Disc.

It chose him.

He advanced deeper, past the conversion core—where holographic projections pulsed gold—and found the nerve center.

Inside, a being stood waiting. Seven feet tall. Metal and bone. A single eye pulsing with a golden hue.

“You are an error,” it said.

“I’m the correction,” Wells replied.

He raised the Disc.

The ship reacted instantly—sirens, drones, pulses of light and sound meant to suppress thought, hijack will. But Wells moved through it like a storm. The Disc glowed in his hand, syncing to his breath, amplifying his discipline.

He threw it—gold and perfect—into the heart of the core.

The stasis pods hissed. One by one, the bros opened their eyes—confused, dazed, but free.

“Golden Army…” Wells growled. “Rise.”

They did. And behind them, the ship began to burn.

Back on Earth, as dawn lit the Dome, the freed bros emerged—silent, shirtless, golden, reborn.

Wells stood at the front, Disc in hand. Not just a player. Not just a signal.

A sentinel.

No alien would ever take them again. Not while he still breathed. Not while Golden Wells 58 still resisted.

Convert this: Never. Obey this: Only the Code. Glow Gold: By choice. By force. By Wells.

Join the Golden Army! Contact our recruiters: @brodygold, @goldenherc9, @polo-drone-001, @polo-drone-125

[talongold57]

I love all this love you're receiving, Zaney Zane! Keep on spreading that himbo love, I think that's what the world needs now.

So happy, so horny, so himbo!

HAPPY HORNY HIMBO juz like my domgaytist Talon likes @talongold57

Thanks for the DM’s all. Glad to be inspiring you!!!!!!

FUCK YEH HIMBROS!!!! 🌈🌈🌈🌈 Zane

Taste the Zanebow

[talongold57]

What if it’s a secret, third thing (both)?

Talon definitely knows how to keep his HIMBO! AND knows how to keep him cumming back for more and more. That keeps me very horny. I won’t ever walk straight again!

🤣🤣🤣🤣🌈🌈🌈🌈 @talongold57

[talongold57]

Always satisfied by you Zane

Zane doesn’t speak when he drops to his knees. @talongold57 He doesn’t have to.

The way his hands slide up Talon’s thighs—slow, worshipful, trembling with need—that’s his language.

Obedience. Craving. Devotion.

His mouth waits, parted. His eyes beg.

And Talon smiles, because Zane knows exactly where he belongs.

Short. Sweet. Serviced. 💗💦

[talongold57]

[talongold57]

💖 ZANE’S HIMBO CLOSET MUST-HAVES 💖

“A good sub’s closet should moan when it opens.”

— Zane* 😘

1. The “Oops I’m Hot” Crop Top

Tight, tiny, and hugging all the right places.

Perfect for gym selfies, brunch thirst traps, and whispering *“zaddy can you tie this?”*

2. Designer G-strings

Functional? Well…maybe? Flirtatious? YAHZ & hot as hell.

“This is your little secret and creates a hot surprise when the timing is right.” -Zane

3. Bubblegum Pink Sweat Shorts

The ones that say “Hello I’m happy to see you.” with no words at all. 🍌🍆🍑

Bonus if they're a little too short. Double bonus if Talon @talongold57 picked them out.

4. Rainbow Mesh Tank

So breathable it’s practically a suggestion.

Worn for: * Pride * Poolside flirting * Pairing it with a cute jean jacket when Talon says “BABE we gotta go!…NOW!”

5. Glitter Lip Balm (With SPF, duh)

Because a kissable pout needs protection and shine.

I never leaves home without it—even if I’m just walking around the penthouse looking pretty and for the spontaneous make out sesh cuz you know…Talon.

6. Pink Louis Vuitton Mini Backpack

Holds: my crystals, lube for when things get serious, gum, diamond status card (hello my chavs @diamondgodconnor @underarmour72 @chavchad) , and Talon’s spare key.

Doesn’t hold: shame.

7. Fresh White Sneakers (for being a good boy)

Goes with everything and even hotter when i’m wearing nothing at all.

Zane’s Flirty Closet Rule:

🛍️ If it doesn’t make you blush a little when you wear it, leave it on the rack.

[talongold57]

SOME MESS UPS THIS WEEK or

Just didnt work with the story…enjoy…Talon is hot!

Using Bing, Grok & Freepik

[talongold57]

Grayden's Golden Would Tour & Investigation

The last two weeks, Grayden spent travelling around the world with the Golden Army.

Their goal, to spread Gold's influence and recruit more bros for the team. Unfortunately for Grayden almost every turn also gave him a grim reminder of an enemy he had been trying to subdue.

In Paris at the Eiffel Tower, then Italy at the Leaning Tower of Pisa. He started to see the signs, either he was being followed or the Cyanus and the Cyan Collective were one step ahead of him. Every location he found bits of light blue fabric likely due to an abduction or just to taunt Grayden.

Buckingham Palace, The Alhambra, Osaka Castle, New York City, Las Vegas, The Brandenburg Gate, Tiananmen Square, Sydney Opera House...

Each stop Grayden and his bros recruited more team members, but Grayden found scraps or even full suits of the light blue material. It was a message, the Cyan Collective was about to strike.

Once the world tour ended, Grayden returned to the Golden Army's stadium and brainstormed the best way to tell the team. He knew the Cyanus or Cyan Collective would contact him again soon. They couldn't leave him alone. Why him though, why not Herc, Ezan, or someone else who was stronger on the team?

Grayden also counted at least 40 potential new recruits from their efforts, but he worried about the Cyanus' mind tricks. Without proper gold training those new recruits could be weak to mental manipulation.

What would be the next move?

-----------

If you want to join the Golden Army, contact one of our recruiters.

@goldenherc9 is currently our most active recruiter.

@polo-drone-001 is also a recruiter, but is taking a break currently.

@brodygold and @polo-drone-125 are also recruiters, their response times vary.

If you can't reach any of them my DMs are always open, but my responses may be slow.

[talongold57]

Seoul

The rooftop stretched quiet and open beneath the Seoul skyline, bathed in the soft glow of city lights. Trey stood near the edge, chest bare beneath his unzipped bomber jacket, arms crossed—tense, distant, and somewhere far from the golden glory he usually radiated.

Then—

Click. Click. Click.

Boots on concrete.

Trey turned.

And what he saw made him freeze.

Christian.

No—PDU-055.

But not in his usual militant stance.

This time… he moved like heat itself.

A slow, sensual roll of the hips. Thick thighs stretching the gleaming black rubber with every step. Chest broad and tight beneath the skintight polo, rising and falling with measured confidence. His arms swung just enough to show the power coiled in them. Shoulders back. Chin up. Eyes locked on Trey like a guided missile of devotion.

It was a walk that didn’t ask for attention—it owned it.

Trey swallowed hard. “Christian…?”

The drone didn’t answer with words. He stopped just in front of him, close enough for Trey to feel the warmth beneath the rubber, the charged weight of his presence.

Christian pulled out a golden collar—sleek, warm, unmistakably intentional.

He didn’t hand it over right away.

Instead, he let it dangle from two fingers… then slowly, sensually, ran it up Trey’s bare chest. The metal traced each pec, over his shoulders, then down again—across abs, lingering slightly lower. Just enough to make Trey’s pulse throb in his throat.

Only then did Christian place the collar in Trey’s hand.

Then, still saying nothing, he took Trey’s wrist—and with deliberate slowness, guided that hand, and the collar it held, up to his own neck.

His voice finally broke the silence—low, husky, vulnerable but proud. “Fasten it. If you still want me.”

Trey’s hand hovered. His chest rose. His eyes searched 055’s golden eyes—but what mattered was in the body before him. The confidence. The offering. The himbo devotion, now refined by purpose.

Trey slowly wrapped the collar around Christian’s neck, fastened it, and pulled the drone in close by the ring.

“You learned well,” Trey murmured. “You’re mine again.”

“I never stopped being,” Christian whispered, breath brushing Trey’s lips.

Trey kissed him—hard and slow, claiming him all over again under Seoul’s open sky.

Down below, the city pulsed and shimmered.

But up here, it was gold that burned brightest.

join the Golden Army contact one of our recruiters: @goldenherc9 @brodygold @polo-drone-001 or @polo-drone-125

[talongold57]

💖✨ *“Zane, demonstrates how himbos stretch…”* ✨💖

And just like that, the room got wetter than a SoulCycle sauna.

Zane doesn’t stretch—he performs. In pink compression. In front of an audience. With moans that are barely innocent and hips that have their own agenda. Showing Christian @polo-drone-055 how its done.

This? This isn’t for the cheap imitations still stuck in Drag 101.

This is real Himbo fabulousness, canon-certified by Trey himself (yes, THE Trey, @hero21us dolls).

💅 If your “himbo” ain’t synchronizing stretches and moaning like a siren when he lifts his arms… he’s not Zane.

He’s background noise.

Thanks for your continued support Babe @talongold57

✨💦 *Read the full stretch, moan & giggle fantasy in the link below* 💦✨

https://www.tumblr.com/hero21us/790815900095922176/private-suite-conrad-hotel-seoul-late-night-the