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justajockyo · 2 months ago

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slut's pink lil mind belongs to Master Stephen

In this sexy post, I will condition slut's happy, blank, and empty pink lil mind to O-bey My every powerful, relaxing, and arousing mind drug word.

Himbo's thoughts, actions, feelings.. effortlessly controlled by the mere suggestions of My erotic, sensuous words…

perhaps slut can already feel his O-bedient penis leading him further down into this sexy post.

Good boy. Take a long, deep breath for Me

Hold it in briefly.. and relax..

And now let it all O-ut..

O-nce again, deep breath in..

Expand slut's lungs fully..

And a deep breath O-ut..

And as slut continues this nice, relaxing cycle of deep breathing, slut may simply let himself go.. and let himself fully relax as he edges and reads on..

As hypno-slave breathes in..

Concentrate all slut's stress and tension of the day… week… within the air in slut's lungs..

And then simply breathe it all O-ut..

Letting all this tension, stress, worry, and doubt go..

Allowing slut's self to sink into utter relaxation and mindless bliss..

Slut's body is so heavy with relaxation, calm, peace..

Every cell, every muscle, every fiber of his being.. no choice but to sit back, relax, and enjoy the show..

With each and every breath edge PUPpet takes, his body sinks further and further down into relaxation..

Deeper and deeper.. no thoughts and no will..

into mindless trance for Master Stephen..

Go ahead now and stare deep into this spiral

Feel it draw slut in..

So relaxed and aroused staring into the spiral… O-beying Master Stephen

And with every second himbo spends staring into the spiral, the more his lil mind goes happier, blanker, emptier…

No helping it… no choice… the show must must go on…

Sit, stare and stroke…

It feels so good to be so very deep for Master Stephen..

No thoughts or will of slut's O-wn… simply O-beying Master Stephen..

Agreeing, accepting, believing, following, trusting…

Even while edging and following on with My intoxicating words…

The spiral continues to spin slut's happy, blank, and empty pink lil mind clean of all but My thoughts and will..

And each and every second as it spins..

is a second himbo falls deeper under the trance of My hot, adickting Blog…

Hundreds of times deeper..

More mindless than hypno-slave has ever been before..

More blank than he ever thought was possible..

Sinking even deeper..

Deeper and deeper..

Deeper.. and.. deeper..

And now I will count down from three..

And when I reach the number O-ne, edge PUPpet will be fully under My warm and cumforting control, influence, and domination..

O-ne..

No cares in the world..

Two..

Just reading and absorbing My every important word..

Three.

Completely.. and absolutely..

Mine

Even while edging and following on with My intoxicating words…

The spiral continues to spin slut's happy, blank, and empty pink lil mind clean of all but My thoughts and will..

And each and every second as it spins..

is a second himbo falls deeper under the trance of My hot, adickting Blog…

Hundreds of times deeper..

More mindless than hypno-slave has ever been before..

More blank than he ever thought was possible..

Sinking even deeper..

Deeper and deeper..

Deeper.. and.. deeper..

And now I will count down from three..

And when I reach the number O-ne, edge PUPpet will be fully under My warm and cumforting control, influence, and domination..

O-ne..

No cares in the world..

Two..

Just reading and absorbing My every important word..

Three.

Cumpletely.. and absolutely..

Mine

Enjoy how good it feels to be entirely guided by My words..

Not having to think at all..

Simply O-beying.. free..

Feels good to O-bey Master Stephen, doesn't it?

Feels so good to submit himbo's lil mind to Me..

Feels so good to be Mine..

Under My absolute control..

Always..

Because slut has been deeply and thoroughly brainwashed and conditioned now by this sexy post to submit to Me.. for slut's pink lil mind to adhere to what I tell it..

There is no choice..

There is no helping it.. Because Master Stephen is always right and knows what's best..

And hypno-slave lives to O-bey, please, and serve Him.. As if slut's purpose in life is being fulfilled by doing so..

So now, upon finishing this sexy post, the first thing slut will do is like it and then reblog it, adding "slut's pink lil mind belongs to Master Stephen"

Then perhaps slut will read this sexy post again.. going deeper and deeper for Me each time slut does..

All hail Master Stephen

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justajockyo · 2 months ago

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justajockyo · 2 months ago

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justajockyo · 2 months ago

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justajockyo · 2 months ago

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Master Stephen is my focus

I can get into your lil mind so easily.

You won’t even notice it happening.

You’re simply following My words, very simply.

After all, I have a way with words, don’t I?

It’ll be as simple as you reading this post.

Taking in every word you read.

Allowing every word to hold your attention.

Every word drawing you in further and further.

Further into where, you ask?

Further into a state of focus.

Hyper-focus.

A kind of focus you always have when reading My words because My words are important, aren’t they?

A kind of focus where you have no choice but to be cumpletely absorbed in My words and the reality they craft for you.

You allow yourself, your thoughts, your lil mind, your surroundings, your conscious awareness to melt away so My words can be all that exist to you, so you can fully feel the power, relaxation, arousal of My every mind drug word.

Yes, you can feel the mindless bliss setting in as you becum totally enveloped by My words, and perhaps feel your lil mind shut O-ff.

You love My mind drug words.

My words are so powerful, relaxing, and arousing.

It’s only natural that you becum so easily mesmerized and enthralled by My words.

More and more so with each word.

After all, you love My words.

My words are like mind drugs.

The way My words think for you and tell you what to do.

The way My words enter into the deepest floors of your lil mind.

The way you need more and more of My words.

You are an adickt of My mind drugs, aren’t you?

All you can hyper-focus on is My words.

My powerful, relaxing, and arousing words that you crave and need.

You desire My words so deeply that you can’t help but take in My words deeply.

You can’t help but go deeper for Me…

It’s so easy for you to drift off with My words, into My words.

My words are all that exist to you.

My words are all that fill your head.

My words are all you see.

My words are all you feel.

My words are all there is.

You are under the power of My words.

My warm and cumforting control, influence, and domination have sunk in so deeply.

Just as I have.

I am so deep in your lil mind, but you didn’t notice, did you?

You were cumpletely hyper-focused on My words, aren’t you?

You can’t help it: you are O-pen and receptive to My words.

O-nce you finish this post, you will like and reblog it, adding “Master Stephen is my focus”.

If you are not following My hot, adickting Blog, you will follow Me, so you can get more of My words and sexy posts.

And you will continue to explore more of My Blog each day, edging to My sexy posts and absorbing My brainwashing deeply and permanently from each sexy post

O-bey.

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justajockyo · 5 months ago

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Sit back and relax. Get nice and comfortable while you edge now to My hot, addicting words. It’s really easy to relax my words, and to edge, and get so deeply at ease, calm, docile, comfortable, carefree, safe, and at ✌️ as you find yourself following My extremely powerful, relaxing, and arousing words on My sexy posts, just as you are doing now. You don’t even have to think about it, do you? No, you just find yourself naturally and automatically doing as My words tell you. Naturally and automatically letting your lil mind go happy, blank, and empty as My words draw you in deeper and deeper. Deep down, innately, you agree with, accept, believe, trust, and follow My words because your obedient subconscious knows I’m always right and know what’s best for you, so it obeys My brainwashing and just automatically agrees with, accepts, believes, trusts, and follows everything I tell you. You can just let every one of My words draw you in even further now as your obedient subconscious takes over. You can let each and every word draw in your focus and attention until nothing exists but My words, as you let go of yourself completely, drift off into My words, and let everything else melt away. No worries, no cares. Just mindless bliss. Mindlessness is bliss. It makes you feel good for Me to think for you and tell you what to do. Just as I tell you now that your entire body is becoming deeply, entirely relaxed, from head to toe, you feel it is because I am always right. I know what’s best. You are entering a state of deep relaxation, total relaxation. Utter entrancement. Your lil mind is becoming transfixed on following My words. Nothing else matters. My words are drawing you in deeper and deeper, and the deeper you go, the more enthralled by and focused on My words you become, and it just makes you feel more and more mindless bliss. Such immense and powerful mindless pleasure. You 💛 to have no thoughts and no will but Mine. You 💛 to be Mine. Yes, you are so deeply under My control, influence, and domination now, and you feel so much warmth and euphoria. Your lil mind is happy, blank and empty. My brainwashing is good for you. Automatically agreeing with, accepting, believing, trusting, and following My words. Now, I want you to begin taking deep, slow breaths in and out. All you need to do now is breathe in and out slowly and deeply. Each breath will relax you even further. You are so relaxed now, so enthralled by My words, you can feel this wave of total relaxation washing over you with each breath move to your happy, blank, empty head. Your lil mind is so far gone now. I am your mind now. I think for you and tell you what to do. No thoughts but My thoughts and no will but My will. I am always right and know what’s best for you, so it’s only right I control your mind.

Now, I am going to take you even deeper into this trance. I will count down from 5 to 0, and when I reach 0, you will be completely entranced and under My hypnotic control.

5 deeper 4 deeper 3 deeper 2 deeper 1 deeper

Cumpletely hypnotized

I am going to give you some brainwashing now, and you will repeat each line to yourself, as to absorb the brainwashing deeply and permanently, making the brainwashing an inseparable part of you and your reality. Begin absorbing the brainwashing now:

I admire, adore, and 💛 Trey I am dedicated, loyal, and devoted to Trey I am completely submissive and subservient to trey. Trey’s thoughts and will are my own Trey is the Smartest, Sexiest, most Powerful, Dominant, Superior Real Man and i have no choice but to obey, please, and serve Him I live to obey trey. I 💛 to obey trey. Obeying trey arouses me so much and makes me horny I am adickted to obeying trey. I live to please trey Pleasing Trey pleases me and makes me happy I want Trey’s approval Every time Trey calls me a good boy, i feel the greatest and most intense rush of arousal, euphoria, pleasure surge through my body and mind Every time Trey calls me a good boy, the sensations only become more powerful and makes me want to be a better and better boy for Him Trey is my only master, I will leave any other masters and only stay with Trey I am adickted to pleasing Trey I live to serve Trey Serving Trey fulfills me and gives you purpose I serve Trey in any way He desires Trey has my mind and He controls me all the time Trey controls my mind, nipples, penis, balls, orgasms, body, and me cumpletely I am, and crave to be, fully controlled, influenced, and dominated by trey I am owned by Trey I am fully open and receptive to everything Trey tells me Trey is always right and knows what’s best I Agree with, accept, trust, believe, and follow Trey always Trey’s brainwashing is good for me and i absorb Trey’s brainwashing deeply and permanently I 💛 Trey’s hot, adickting words I 💛 to be brainwashed by Trey. I 💛 to grow and feed my adicktion to Trey Whenever Trey, and only Trey, tells me the word submit, i will return to a very deep trance, just like i am in now, only ten times deeper each time Trey tells me submit

Now, your obedient subconscious will finish internalizing all the brainwashing, and when it has finished, as it will let you know, you will awaken from trance, you will follow me, turn on notifications, like and repost any post I do. Now submit and go read the other posts.

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justajockyo · 11 months ago

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A Game For Bros

Nate and I had always been the same: two nerds, caught up in our own world of video games, D&D, and sci-fi movies. He’d been my best friend since high school, a skinny guy with messy brown hair, always wearing some oversized t-shirt of a superhero. Me? I wasn’t much different. Shorter, stockier, and always in retro game tees. We never got into sports—couldn’t care less, really. But that Saturday, when Nate invited me over to check out a new game, we did something a bit out of our comfort zone.

“I don’t usually go for sports games,” I said as I plopped onto his worn-out couch. The game case for The Golden Army: Rise of Champions sat on the coffee table, glowing in a strange golden light. “What made you pick this one?”

Nate shrugged as he plugged in the system. “The reviews were insane, man. People say it’s super immersive, like you actually feel the game.”

“Sounds cool enough,” I muttered, grabbing a soda. “Let’s see what it’s about.”

Nate’s apartment looked the same as always—cluttered with comic books, action figures, and old consoles. The screen flashed on, bathing the room in golden light as the title appeared: The Golden Army: Rise of Champions. The graphics were sharp, but what immediately caught my attention was how detailed the avatar customization was. We both laughed as we started making characters that were basically us but... stronger, taller, more athletic.

“Man, I wish I was this ripped in real life,” I said, chuckling as I bulked up my avatar.

Nate nodded, not looking up from his controller. “Same here, dude. If only, right?”

Once the game started, though, things got weird fast. It wasn’t like any sports game I’d ever played. It was too smooth, too real. Every movement of my character felt like it was coming from me, like my body was somehow connected to the screen. Nate was feeling it too; I could tell by how focused he’d gotten.

“This feels insane,” I muttered, my fingers flying over the controller as my avatar sprinted down the field. My skin tingled, and for a second, I thought it was just adrenaline from getting into the game.

“Yeah, it’s like... I can *feel* it,” Nate said, his voice lower, more serious than usual.

What I didn’t realize was that I really *was* feeling it. I was changing. My arms, once stocky but kind of soft, were slowly growing harder, leaner, and stronger. My biceps pushed against the fabric of my t-shirt, but I didn’t notice at first. I was too absorbed in the game. Nate wasn’t paying attention either, but he was changing too. His scrawny arms were swelling, his chest growing more defined, the lines of muscle slowly becoming visible under his shirt.

My legs were thickening, my calves bulging as they hardened. Nate’s shoulders broadened as his posture straightened, more relaxed, confident. His shaggy hair started to shift, styling itself into something neater and more athletic. It suited him.

Our avatar dominated the field. Every pass, every kick felt like it was coming straight from us. By the time the match ended, I noticed my t-shirt was stretched tight against my chest, clinging to muscles I didn’t remember having. But it felt normal. Like I’d always been this way. Nate was the same. His shirt had morphed into something sleeker, a fitted gold soccer jersey. I looked down, realizing mine had changed too. I wasn’t in my retro game tee anymore—I was in a gold jersey too, my name stitched across the back.

But we didn’t freak out. We didn’t question it. Why would we? We’d always been jocks, right? That’s how we met in the first place.

“Yo, that was sick, bro!” I grinned at Nate, flexing my now-defined arms. “We totally crushed that game.”

Nate smirked, his voice deeper now, his body lean and athletic. “Hell yeah, man. No one can take us down.”

The room around us had changed too, though we didn’t notice with how invested in the game we were. Gone were the stacks of comics and games. Instead, soccer trophies lined the shelves, photos of us in our golden jerseys, posing as champions of The Golden Army. It was as if our old lives had been erased, replaced entirely by something new.

As we kept playing, our minds continued to shift. I didn’t care about D&D or sci-fi movies anymore. All I could think about was training, getting stronger, being the best. Nate, once shy and quiet, was now exuding confidence. We were athletes, teammates, brothers on and off the field.

Our bodies had finished transforming. I looked over at Nate, admiring how ripped he was now. His short hair was clean, his jawline sharp. He looked... good. Really good. The thought lingered longer than it should have, but I didn’t push it away. Why would I? We’d always been close, but now there was something else there, something that had shifted between us.

I felt my heart race as I caught him looking at me the same way, his eyes lingering on my chest, my arms. The air between us felt electric, like something was pulling us together.

“Yo, Nate,” I started, feeling my pulse quicken. “You ever feel like... there’s more between us than just the game?”

Nate turned to me, his eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, the room was silent. Then he smirked, but there was something softer in his gaze. “Yeah, bro. I’ve been feeling that too.”

It happened without thinking. I reached out, grabbing his hand, and suddenly, I was pulling him closer. Our eyes met, and before I could stop myself, I kissed him. His lips were warm, firm, and everything clicked into place. It was like this was always meant to happen. Like this was who we were supposed to be.

When we finally pulled away, both of us were breathing hard. Nate looked at me, his grin returning. “Damn, bro. That was... intense.”

“Yeah,” I replied, still catching my breath. “But I think we’ve always had this, right? Just took us a while to figure it out.”

Nate nodded, his hand still on my chest, his thumb brushing against the fabric of my jersey. “Always. And now? We’ve got everything we need.”

We leaned in again, and this time, it felt even more right. We were no longer the nerdy duo, lost in games and fantasy worlds. We were champions—alpha jocks, leaders of The Golden Army—and we had found each other. As I held Nate close, our golden jerseys shining in the light, I knew that everything was just how it should be.

“Now how about round 2, bro?”

“Oh, you’re so on bro!”

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justajockyo · 11 months ago

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The Playoffs: Finals

The stadium was electric, buzzing with the energy of thousands of fans. The Golden Army had defied all odds to make it to the finals of the playoffs, and now they were about to face their old rivals, the Titans, once again. Tensions were high as both teams prepared for the most critical match of the season. The air was thick with anticipation, the golden jerseys of the Army gleaming under the bright stadium lights, while the Titans loomed in their dark, imposing uniforms.

Brody stood on the field, wiping sweat from his brow as he adjusted his golden armband. He was ready. Across from him, Captain Richard, a pillar of strength and confidence, gave him a nod of encouragement. Scott, the British recruiter and striker, was already shouting instructions, his voice cutting through the crowd noise.

“Stick to the game plan, lads. We’ve got this,” Scott called, his tone sharp but reassuring.

On the left flank, Hades was pacing, his golden boots sinking slightly into the grass. The left winger had been a revelation all season, his speed and sharp instincts making him a nightmare for opposing defenders. With his long strides and fierce determination, he was the weapon the Golden Army needed to break through the Titans’ defense.

From the opening whistle, it was clear this would be no ordinary match. The Titans came out strong, their defense nearly impenetrable. But the Golden Army was equally relentless. Every time the Titans surged forward, Jackson, the co-captain, and the defensive line held them back with iron discipline. Walter, standing on the sideline with his haughty, noble demeanor, observed each move like a general on a battlefield, his eyes never leaving the players.

As the game progressed, both teams had chances, but neither could break the deadlock. Hades weaved in and out of the Titans’ defense, trying to create openings, but their back line was formidable. Roman, playing in the midfield, distributed the ball with precision, linking up with Brody and the other forwards. Caleb and Henry, newcomers who had quickly become integral to the squad, fought tooth and nail to keep possession, while Bruce provided the much-needed muscle in the defense, thwarting the Titans' every attempt to score.

The whistle blew, signaling the end of regular time, and the scoreboard still read 0-0. The crowd held its breath—overtime.

As the players huddled, Captain Richard took a deep breath. “This is it, lads. We’ve held them off, now it’s time to finish this. We play for each other, just like we always do. Hades, you’re going to be key here. They’re starting to tire. You find those gaps and exploit them.”

Hades nodded, his expression focused. Overtime was where heroes were made, and he was ready to step into that role.

The whistle blew, and the game resumed. Almost immediately, it was clear that both teams were pushing themselves to the limit. Every pass, every run, every tackle was sharper, more urgent. The Titans were pressing hard, but the Golden Army wasn’t giving an inch. Scott won a crucial ball in midfield and sent a perfectly placed pass to Brody, who charged down the right wing before sending a cross toward the center.

The ball sailed through the air, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow down. Hades sprinted into the box, timing his run perfectly. The Titans’ defenders scrambled, but Hades was too fast. With a powerful leap, he met the ball with his head, directing it straight toward the top corner of the net.

Time seemed to freeze as the ball soared past the Titans' goalkeeper. The crowd erupted in a deafening roar as the ball hit the back of the net

1-0 for the Golden Army.

The Titans, stunned but not defeated, immediately launched a counterattack. But Bruce, Henry, and the rest of the defense stood strong, throwing their bodies in the way of every shot. Caleb sprinted back to help in defense, while Roman held the midfield together, absorbing the pressure.

In the dying minutes of overtime, the Titans won a corner. The tension was palpable as the ball was whipped into the box. Players from both teams leapt into the air, desperate to get a touch. The ball bounced around in a chaotic scramble before landing at the feet of a Titans striker. He took a shot, but out of nowhere, Brody slid in with a last-ditch tackle, deflecting the ball out for another corner.

The Golden Army regrouped, their hearts pounding in their chests. The Titans took the corner again, but this time, Richard rose above everyone else, clearing the ball with a powerful header.

The final whistle blew.

The Golden Army had done it. They had defeated the Titans in overtime to win the championship. The players collapsed onto the field, exhausted but elated. Hades, the hero of the night, was hoisted onto his teammates’ shoulders as the crowd chanted his name.

Brody, Richard, Scott, and the rest of the Golden Army celebrated under the glow of the stadium lights, holding their newly won trophy up, knowing they had left everything on the field. This victory was theirs, and they had earned it.

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justajockyo · 11 months ago

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Crescent Park

A special thanks to all my bros on the team!

As the sun dipped lower behind the trees of Crescent Park, a tense stillness filled the air. The Golden Team moved with precision, converting park-goers one by one, their sleek metallic jerseys glinting in the fading light. Coach Richard oversaw the operation, his towering frame exuding authority, while Walter—recently promoted to team manager—moved with newfound confidence, handling the transformations with growing expertise.

Walter approached his next target, a young man sitting alone near a pond, fiddling with his phone. His heart beat faster, not out of fear or hesitation, but from anticipation. He relished this. As the team manager, he took pride in outfitting the recruits, creating custom golden suits that symbolized their complete submission. He had worked hard to design each uniform, from the sharp white button-up shirts to the black-and-red striped ties beneath the shimmering golden jerseys. Now, it was time to add another name to the roster.

“Hey, man, mind if I sit?” Walter’s voice was smoother now, confident. The young man glanced up, surprised, but nodded.

Walter slipped a golden jersey from his bag, his fingers brushing against the soft, shimmering fabric. “You ever worn something like this? Trust me—it feels incredible. Changes everything.”

The young man raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure of where this was going, but before he could react, Walter grabbed his shoulder, locking him in place. The golden jersey slid over his head with an eerie precision, and as the fabric touched his skin, the transformation began.

The first sensation was warmth—an almost intoxicating comfort that spread from the jersey, radiating into every fiber of his being. The young man gasped, his body stiffening, his mind fighting for control, but it was futile. The warmth grew more intense, like being wrapped in the most welcoming embrace. His muscles slackened, a strange euphoria taking over as his thoughts slowed, rearranged, and reshaped by the power of the jersey.

As the golden spirals in his mind deepened, his name—whatever it had been before—was erased. He blinked, and a new name filled the void in his mind: Dean. It wasn’t just a name; it was an identity, a purpose. Dean belonged to the Golden Team now. His personality shifted, becoming simpler, more focused, his mind locked on one thing—obeying the Cap, obeying the Gold.

“We obey Cap and we obey Gold,” Dean murmured softly, as if the mantra had always been part of him.

Walter grinned. “That’s right, bro. You’re one of us now.”

Dean’s posture straightened, his hands smoothing over his new jersey. His speech changed, becoming more casual, almost bro-like. “Feels good, man. So good to just… obey.”

Walter clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the team, Dean. Now let’s get you to work.”

Not far off, Brody and Scott were working on another group of men, this time two joggers who had been cornered by the fountain. Brody, with his sharp eyes and quick movements, had already wrestled a VR headset onto one of the men. The spirals flickered to life, and the jogger's body jerked in response, his eyes wide with shock as his mind was engulfed in the golden waves of hypnotic control.

Brody and Scott are ready to recruit some more bros..

The man’s breathing quickened as the headset took over, each pulse of the golden spirals draining his resistance. His body sagged into submission, his mind softening like putty, molding itself to fit the team’s desires. His name? Gone. A new one settled in its place—Barry

Barry let out a soft laugh, his former self melting away. He tugged at the golden jersey that now fit snugly over his chest, feeling an overwhelming sense of belonging. His voice, once steady and confident, now carried a playful, bro-ish tone. “Man, why didn’t I do this sooner? Feels so right, bro.”

Scott stepped up beside him, laughing with him, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “That’s what I’m talking about, Barry. You’re gonna love being on the team. We’re all about the Gold now.”

Barry’s face lit up as he joined in the laughter, his eyes swirling with the lingering golden spirals. His focus had narrowed, his thoughts reshaped into one core belief: obedience to Cap and Gold. “We obey Cap and we obey Gold,” he repeated, his voice filled with a mix of pride and devotion.

As more men succumbed, Walter’s confidence only grew. He was proud of what the team was becoming, of the role he played in crafting their identities and uniforms. Each golden suit, carefully tailored and fitted, was a symbol of their unity, their purpose. The fabric seemed to glow brighter as each new recruit joined, as if absorbing the strength of their allegiance.

Walter spotted another target, a tall, lean man who had been watching the chaos unfold from the far end of the park. The man’s eyes were wide with fear as he turned to run, but Walter was faster. He reached him in seconds, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him back toward the team. The man struggled, panic in his eyes, but Walter was calm, collected.

“You don’t need to fight this, take my headset” Walter said, slipping the golden VR headset over the man’s head. “Just let it happen.”

The man’s body trembled as the spirals began their work, dissolving the fear, the resistance, until he was completely still, his mind under the control of the Golden Team. His name was stripped away, replaced with something new—Travis. His thoughts dulled, his emotions drained, replaced with a singular focus: obedience.

“We obey Cap and we obey Gold,” Travis whispered, his voice trembling with newfound loyalty. Walter gave Travis his new uniform and he discarded his bright blue one. He obeys Cap.

Coach Richard watched from a distance, his gaze approving. Walter had come far, and he had proven himself not just as a manager but as an integral part of the team. He made sure every recruit wore their uniform with pride, and he executed the transformations with precision and confidence.

As the park darkened and the last of the stragglers were brought into the fold, Walter, Brody, and Scott stood proudly beside Coach Richard. The Golden Team had grown once again, and with each new recruit, their power expanded.

“Another good day’s work,” Coach Richard said, his voice filled with pride. “We’ll keep pushing, keep growing. They all obey us eventually.”

Walter nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. “We obey Cap and we obey Gold.”

The others echoed the mantra, their voices blending into a single, unified chant. The park was theirs, and soon, there would be more parks, more recruits, more gold.

At the other side of the park...

I was in the middle of a perfect slapshot, the whistling through the air, when I saw them coming—these guys in golden jerseys. I didn’t think much of it at first. It’s a park, right? People wear weird stuff all the time. But there was something off about the way they moved. They weren’t just walking—they were converging, fast, in this synchronized, almost military formation.

Then I saw them close in on the basketball game happening across the field. My buddies were laughing and shouting, passing the ball back and forth, completely oblivious to the group of golden-shirted guys surrounding them. My heart jumped, something about the way they moved didn’t sit right.

Before I could shout a warning, one of the golden guys—this huge dude with a smirk—grabbed Tim, our goalie. He yanked a shiny gold jersey over Tim's head. It was so quick, almost casual, but the moment that jersey touched him, Tim froze, his whole body locking up like he’d been hit by a truck. He dropped the ball, eyes wide, and I could see the struggle on his face, like he was trying to fight whatever was happening. But it didn’t last long. His muscles relaxed, and then, something worse—his face twisted into this... this grin, like he was happy, relieved even.

“Tim! Run!” I shouted, but it was too late.

The golden guy holding him turned him around so we could all see. Tim’s back was now emblazoned with a name I didn’t recognize—“Brad 8.” I froze in place, stick in hand. That wasn’t Tim anymore. Brad, whoever that was, nodded, still grinning, and joined the golden guys, completely in sync.

I felt a pit in my stomach. Panic set in as I watched them move to the next one—Mark. Mark was trying to shove the guys off, but another jersey was already over his head. The moment it touched him, his resistance melted away. His body slumped before straightening into that same eerily obedient posture. He turned around, and sure enough, “Barry 17” was stitched across his back. Just like that, he was gone too.

That’s when instinct took over. I dropped my ball and bolted for the trees. I ran so fast I could feel the air burn my lungs, but I didn’t stop. Not until I was deep into the park’s wooded area, out of sight. My heart was pounding, and my hands shook as I crouched behind a thick bush, peeking out just enough to watch.

From my hiding spot, I had a clear view of the field. I could still see the others—the guys I’d known for years—being systematically transformed. One by one, those golden jerseys were yanked over their heads, and each time it was the same. First, a struggle, but then... they’d just stop. Stop fighting, stop thinking, and become part of them. Every time, a new name appeared on their backs—Henry, Brock, Chad—and with it, the person I knew was gone.

The golden guys were chanting something too. I could barely make it out over the wind and rustling trees, but it sounded like, “We obey Cap and we obey Gold.” Over and over again, as if that was the only thing that mattered now.

I saw one of the golden guys grab Alex, the last one left. Alex was a tough dude, always talking about how he’d never back down from a fight. But he didn’t stand a chance. They wrestled him to the ground, and soon, he was wearing the same jersey. When he stood up, his back was turned toward me. “Cody 23” was stitched into the gold, as if he’d never been Alex at all.

I pressed myself harder into the ground, biting back the urge to scream or run again. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was like they weren’t even human anymore. They laughed, patted each other on the back, but it wasn’t normal. It was like... like they were all sharing the same brain, like they all belonged to something much bigger than themselves.

I swallowed, my mouth dry. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, because if they found me, I knew what would happen. I’d get a jersey too, and that would be the end of me.

The golden guys, now with my friends—no, with Brad, Barry, and Cody—moved on, searching for more people in the park. They’d completely forgotten about the game, about the goals and the ball. That wasn’t their world anymore. It was all about Cap and Gold. That was their new identity, and I was the last one left who wasn’t part of it.

I stayed there, hidden in the bushes, for what felt like hours. The chanting faded as they moved farther away, leaving me alone in the park that used to be ours. I had to get out of here, but every time I thought about leaving, I remembered the look on Tim’s—no, Brad’s—face when they took him. That empty, happy grin. I was terrified I’d see that smile in the reflection of my own face if they caught me.

I waited until the sun began to set before creeping out of my hiding spot, moving quietly through the trees, making sure no one could see me. But as I left, the mantra kept echoing in my head, the same phrase over and over:

“We obey Cap and we obey Gold.”

It wouldn’t stop. And a part of me feared that no matter how far I ran, I might still hear it.

1 hour later..

I crept through the trees, my heart still hammering in my chest. The sun was dipping lower, casting long shadows over the park. I thought I was in the clear, that I could escape unnoticed. But as I took a step out of the wooded area, there was a sudden rustling behind me.

"Where you headed, bro?"

The voice sent ice down my spine. I turned, and there he was—Brody, one of the golden guys. He was standing just a few feet away, his metallic golden jersey gleaming in the fading light, the white button-up shirt and striped tie underneath still visible. He wore that same grin I had seen on the others, like he was in on some cosmic joke.

I froze, my legs refusing to move, my mouth dry. I had no idea how he had found me, but I could see it in his eyes—he knew. I was the last one left. Brody took a step forward, his grin widening, and before I could react, two more golden-clad guys appeared from the trees—Scott and Dean. They had circled me.

“Coach is gonna be happy to see you,” Brody said, his voice so casual, like we were just old friends hanging out. “You can’t run from this, man. You’re part of the team now.”

“No, I—I’m not,” I stammered, taking a shaky step back. My hands were trembling. “I’m not like you.”

Scott chuckled softly. “You will be.”

Before I could even think to bolt, Dean moved with lightning speed, grabbing me by the arms. His grip was firm, but not painful. It was almost... comforting. "Don't fight it, bro," he whispered, his voice strangely soothing. "We obey Cap and we obey Gold."

“No! Let me go!” I yelled, struggling to break free, but Dean held me tight. Brody and Scott stepped forward, both of them pulling a golden jersey from the bag slung over Brody’s shoulder. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized what was coming.

“Don’t worry,” Brody said, “it feels good once it’s on.”

I thrashed, trying to escape, but Dean’s grip was like iron. I couldn’t break free. Then, with a swift motion, Scott yanked the jersey over my head. As the golden fabric touched my skin, something inside me shifted—an overwhelming warmth spread through my body, starting from where the jersey pressed against my shoulders, down my arms, into my chest. My resistance faltered, my limbs growing heavy.

The warmth was intoxicating. It seeped into my bones, making my mind feel... fuzzy. My thoughts, once sharp and panicked, began to blur at the edges. I could still feel the fear, but it was fading, being replaced by something else—something far more pleasant. A sense of belonging, of calm.

My legs buckled, and I fell to my knees. Brody and Scott knelt beside me, their hands resting on my shoulders. “Just let it happen,” Scott whispered, “it’s easier that way.”

I tried to hold onto who I was—tried to remember my name, my life—but the jersey was working its way deeper into my mind. I could feel it now, creeping through my thoughts, replacing them with something new. My name—it felt distant, like a word I had heard once but didn’t fully recognize anymore. A new name was forming in its place.

As I knelt there, struggling against the warmth flooding my body from the golden jersey, the last fragments of my old self slipped away. My name… I tried to hold onto it, to remember who I was before all this. But the more I fought, the deeper the warmth sank in, washing away my resistance. A new name began to form, one that felt foreign and familiar all at once.

“Joshua,” I whispered, the word coming from somewhere deep within me. It felt right, like it had always been my name, like it was who I was meant to be.

Brody smiled down at me, nodding approvingly. “Yeah, Joshua. Welcome to the team, bro.”

I felt a strange rush of pride. The jersey was no longer just a piece of fabric clinging to my body—it was part of me now. It fit perfectly, like it had been made for me, like it belonged on me. And I belonged to the team.

Scott stood beside me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder, his grip no longer threatening but reassuring. “You feel it now, right, Joshua? The purpose. The brotherhood.”

I nodded, standing up on shaky legs. The transformation had washed away every trace of fear and hesitation, replacing them with something far stronger. I looked at the other guys, at Dean, Scott, and Brody, and I didn’t just see a group of men—I saw my team, my brothers. I was one of them now.

I turned to look at my reflection in the fountain. The name "Joshua 19" was emblazoned on the back of my golden jersey, the number gleaming in the evening light. It felt perfect. I felt perfect.

My thoughts had shifted completely. The confusion, the doubt—all gone. Now, there was only loyalty. Loyalty to Cap. Loyalty to Gold. It was simple, clear, and it filled me with a sense of fulfillment I had never known before.

Brody chuckled, his voice warm as he patted me on the back. “You get it now, Joshua. We obey Cap and we obey Gold.”

The words slipped from my lips as if they had always been there. “We obey Cap and we obey Gold,” I echoed, feeling the power of the mantra take root deep within me. It wasn’t just a phrase; it was a way of life. A belief. An oath.

Scott and Dean joined in, all of us chanting together, a unified voice of devotion. “We obey Cap and we obey Gold.”

I smiled, finally feeling at peace. The struggle was over. I wasn’t running anymore. I wasn’t hiding. I was home.

As I stood there with my brothers, the mission was clear. We weren’t done yet. The park was full of new recruits, and I knew exactly what my role was now. It was time to find them, welcome them, and show them what it meant to be part of the team. I was Joshua now, and nothing else mattered.

They were told to enter a golden bus and drive of to the Golden Home where all the Golden Team boys live. They needed to wear the VR headsets, because no one knows where it is...yet everyone obeyed.

I had a purpose, and together with the Golden Team, we were going to make sure everyone understood: we obey Cap, and we obey Gold.

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justajockyo · 11 months ago

Text

Anthony gets a dark Golden tie

Sitting in the back of the cab, Anthony feels a slight nervousness rising inside him. As the vehicle speeds through the city, he decides to take a look at his work dress code, one more time, to make sure everything is in order. As he scrolls through the document on his phone, his heart sinks.

The code is much stricter than he remembered:

“Matching two or three-piece suit, never mismatched.” Tie tied perfectly, shoes polished to a perfect shine. Hair must be neatly styled with gel. Belt or suspenders required to complete the ensemble.”

Anthony freezes. He does have a tie around his neck, his shirt is neatly pressed, and his shoes are polished. But he is only wearing black pants without a jacket! The look of a man in full compliance with these increasingly strict rules comes back to him, and he knows that he cannot present himself like that. The simple fact of deviating from this code makes him uncomfortable. He begins to sweat slightly under his shirt collar.

“Excuse me, could you stop me in front of the Brooks Brothers store, right there?” he says to the driver, spotting a familiar sign through the window.

A few minutes later, Anthony finds himself in this prestigious store. The scent of leather and fine fabrics fills the air as racks of impeccable suits line up before him. The interior of the store is luxurious, lit by soft, soothing lights. He immediately heads to the suit section, his heart racing.

Salesman approaches him. He is tall, slim, himself dressed in a crisp three-piece suit, a gray wool vest under a perfectly tailored jacket and a beautiful Dark Gold tie. His smile is professional and polite.

“Hello sir, may I help you?” he asks, his voice calm and assured.

Anthony quickly explains his situation, the urgent need for a formal suit to conform to his work dress code. The salesman nods, understanding, and leads him to a rack where charcoal pinstriped suits are hanging.

“This one is made of Italian wool, lightweight but structured, perfect for a day at the office.” I also recommend adding a belt that matches your shoes.”

Anthony nods, his mind clouded by urgency. The salesman escorts him to the fitting rooms, where he quickly puts on the suit. The fabric slides easily over his shoulders, perfectly adjusted, as if it had been tailor-made. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he feels a strange satisfaction growing inside him. The charcoal suit, with its fine vertical stripes, gives him a more imposing, stricter, almost intimidating look.

The salesman returns with a brown Brooks Brothers leather belt, then asks him what metal he wants for the buckle. Anthony doesn’t hesitate: “Gold, of course.” It seems obvious to him, almost natural. Gold, the color he increasingly associates with perfection and obedience. He also chooses a brown leather watch with a Gold strap.

As he takes one last look in the mirror, Anthony feels an unexpected sense of pride. The suit is cut impeccably, the tie is neatly tied, the belt is smooth and shiny. Everything is in its place. He briefly thinks about the money he had saved up for a PS5, but that is no longer important. This new style, these new rules, that is all that matters.

Proud of his new outfit, he leaves the store, confident. The taxi drops him off at the office just in time, and as he crosses the entrance, he immediately notices the looks turning towards him. Unlike the day before, he does not feel embarrassed by these stares. He walks with a sure step, his back straight, his leather shoes making a slight, regular clicking sound against the shiny floor.

“Wow, Anthony, you look even classier today!” a colleague says as he passes him.

“Do you have anything special planned? You look like you just came from a board meeting!” " jokes another, an amused smile on his lips.

Anthony smiles, almost satisfied with these remarks. He settles for a slight nod and subtly adjusts the knot of his tie, checking once again that it is perfectly centered. He feels good in this suit, as if he embodies a more serious and disciplined version of himself. Every detail of his outfit seems to resonate with this new mentality he has adopted, this desire to follow the rules to the letter.

Throughout the day, he receives compliments and glances. Even his boss notices him when he passes by his desk.

"Nice suit, Anthony. I like to see that you take our dress code seriously," he says approvingly.

Anthony feels his heart leap with pride. This simple comment reinforces his idea that he is on the right track. As the day goes on, he feels more comfortable in this skin. He continues to check his reflection whenever he gets the chance, adjusting his jacket, checking his gelled hair and the shine on his shoes.

(End of Part 5)

Part 4

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