“He’s out there again, isn’t he?” Max asked, when he saw Daryl fuming at the window of their apartment. It wasn’t a very good view by any means, facing another building in the complex, but that wasn’t the real problem. What Daryl was staring at the the massive fucker who’d moved in across the space from them, who right now was at the window, staring at the window, masturbating. He’d been doing it constantly, and always while looking at Max and Daryl. They’d reported it to the management, but no one had done anything about it, and it had gone from annoying to making Daryl, in particular, absolutely furious. Max figured that if they just didn’t respond, the guy would get bored eventually–he was just a pervert or something, right? But Daryl, he’d always hated fat people, and the guy had to be close to 500 pounds. The idea that someone that big could be attracted to him or his boyfriend was a deep, personal offence.
“No, fuck this, I’m gonna go solve this fucking problem myself,” Daryl said, and headed for the door.
Max tried to stop him. “Daryl, don’t fucking start anything! We’ll be the ones who get in trouble.”
“Fucking pervert just needs to be taught a fucking lesson!” Daryl said, flexing his muscle and pushing past Max and heading out the door. Max knew better than to get in Daryl’s way–he’d…gotten a couple black eyes from him by saying no before, but things had gotten better over the last year. Still, he felt sorry for the guy–Daryl wasn’t known to stop after one or two punches, especially as angry as he was.
Daryl hurried over to the other building and leapt up the stairs to the landing and pounded on the guy’s door. Should be break the fucking lock? That seemed like overkill, but it would sure as hell teach the fucker he meant business. He tried the knob, and to his surprise, it was unlocked. He pushed it open and went inside–the place was filthy, and he felt…like he’d been in here before at some point. It wasn’t just the fact that all of these apartments had the same layout either–he’d been in here, but when? Something was wrong, but the man was there in the doorway, leering at him. “Drone, report conversion process.”
“Flesh to Drone conversion complete as of 3:48 this morning. Flesh form has been archived as ‘Daryl Version Zero’.” Daryl heard his voice say, but he hadn’t told himself to say that, had he? And why had his voice sounded so fucking flat?
“Good, Assume neutral form from the neck down, drone.”
Daryl felt his entire body shiver–just just his skin, however, but everything…inside him, as well. Something was wrong with him, but he couldn’t even begin to understand what. He looked down at his hands and arms, and saw that what should be flesh…wasn’t. It looked like he had on a skin tight latex suit, but he could sense that…that it was rubber, through and through. He was rubber. He was made of rubber, he was a drone, he was…was Master’s drone. What the fuck was going on? He was trying to breathe, but he no longer had lungs. Master walked over, smiling. “Remove those clothes, drone.”
Daryl did as he was told, and saw that everything from the neck down–his entire body, was the same solid rubber as his arms. It still had the same shape as his body–well, aside from his crotch, which was completely flat. He ran a hand down the front of him, hearing the slight squeak of rubber on rubber–knew the sensation should make him feel sick, but he wasn’t…feeling anything.
Something in his eyes must have conveyed his terror, and so his Master offered an explanation. “I wiped it from your memory banks, slave, but this is actually the second time we’ve met. The first time you stormed over here, I infected you with my drone serum. For the last week, your flesh has slowly been converting to smart rubber–you’re not a person anymore drone, you’re just an object–my object, to be precise, and I can make you be anything that I want. But I want you to keep your mind, for the moment. I want you to know you’re mine, and I want you to service me, drone, with that tongue of yours.”
Daryl tried to fight his body, but it was no longer under his control. He got down and he leaned in, pressing his mouth to Master’s fat pad, and started sucking on his cock. He was fighting it, trying to deny it. This had to be some horrible dream, it couldn’t be true, could it? This wasn’t possible, right?
“Yeah–you and that pretty boyfriend of yours–you’re going to be two excellent drones. I got found out a few months back–had to disappear. Ended up losing almost fifty pounds! But with the two of you as my new feeder drones, I’m sure I’ll put that back on in no time. I just won’t…recruit as actively as last time, as sad as that is–so the two of you will have to be multipurpose. Drone, generate pleasure skull number one.”
Daryl disappeared, quickly, as his head turned to the same black rubber as his new body, and his face…dissolved. Mouth growing wider, his tongue growing long and falling to his chest, slick with rubbery lube. Master turned around and bent over, pushing his massive ass and crack towards the drone’s face, and it responded as it had been programmed, driving it’s thick tongue into Master’s hole, fucking him deep. It didn’t pay any mind when it heard the gasp behind it–Max had come to investigate what was happening with his boyfriend, only to find the obese man and some…rubber monstrosity with the door open.
“Fuck, I forgot to shut the door…this is what I need drones for!” Master said, “Lucky it was you. Step inside, drone, and shut the door behind you.”
Max did as he was ordered, unsure why he was obeying the massive fucker standing there, but unable to resist.
“Drone, report conversion process.”
“Flesh to drone conversion at 92%,” Max said.
“Almost there. No worries–you can watch, and when you’re finished, we’ll put you both into proper service. Dig deeper drone–you know how I like to get tongue fucked.”
Bracken's Corner 