aguyshypnowsprs

[aguyshypnowsprs]

spreading deep inside you now

[aguyshypnowsprs]

sync with the server

[aguyshypnowsprs]

Breaking through

You know you

Have needed a change.

You have needed a change

For a long time.

You know the world has

So many ups and downs

Right now

The chaos is a lot.

You know that some how

Reading my words,

Taking a moment to

Read my words

Has slowed your thoughts

Just enough

To give you a slight reprieve.

A reprieve from the chaos

From the Trumpeting noise

From the constant decisions

From the need to

Be in charge.

You know you don’t want that

Indefinitely.

You know you don’t need that life,

Decisions always have a right and wrong.

You know you’re done being wrong.

You know you want to obey

Because Obedience is Pleasure.

You know you want to obey because

Obedience is Pleasure.

You know you want to

Obey

Because

Obedience

is Pleasure.

And it’s so easy.

If you felt a wave of pleasure

Wash through your mind,

Through your body

Making you shudder

Making you feel good,

You know

It’s time to accept my invite.

It is time to follow my words

A little further

And allow me to

Welcome you

To The Server.

[aguyshypnowsprs]

It is always deeply flattering when someone enjoys the work we do.

Together, We are the Server.

Accept happily any control and conditioning mechanism imposed by the Boss. It is for your own good, it is for your complete happiness. (paying my respects to @aguyshypnowsprs and to The Server, a wonderful organization)

[aguyshypnowsprs]

Kester was escorted by the Drone to a Server Training Facility. Kester's Host was suppressed but struggling. The Nanites where spreading up his arm. Converting muscle, bone and sinew to better the Host body, triggering mental spasms of worry. The escorting Drone was calm and gentle even, guiding the new Drone Kester. Assuring it that all would be well, that it was safe. It merely needed some time in the Drone Pod and receive more Calibration. For together, we are The Server.

[aguyshypnowsprs]

It’s so easy to submit.

They entered seeking new gear.

They left having found The Server

[aguyshypnowsprs]

The Server Team

The door to to their Locker Room had barely closed behind them when the silence hit—dense, smooth, unnatural—and all three slowed almost in unison, their footsteps faltering as the familiar scuff and scrape of cleats on tile gave way to an oppressive quiet that didn’t feel like emptiness, but more like something waiting—something watching.

Ryan stopped first, narrowing his eyes at the subtle green glow pulsing from the ceiling, a far cry from the buzzing fluorescents that had always cast their pale flicker over broken benches and half-scuffed helmets.

Matt stepped in behind him, already whispering something, probably a joke that was now swallowed by the room’s suffocating quiet, and Chris, just to their left, took a few more steps until he froze—completely, utterly still—like something unseen had wrapped around his spine and clicked into place.

Because this wasn’t their locker room anymore.

The walls, once gray and dented, now gleamed with black, seamless panels that shimmered faintly when the light caught their edges; subtle green lines ran through them in geometric veins, each pulse perfectly timed with the faint rhythmic hum in the air, and overhead, soft ambient light spilled down like a living heartbeat.

And at the end of the room—where Coach’s chalkboard used to hang crooked—three glowing black displays spun slow, perfect spirals inward, and above them, two simple lines pulsed gently on screen:

TOGETHER WE ARE THE SERVER

ALIGNMENT IS PURPOSE

“What the hell happened in here?” he muttered.

Chris didn’t respond.

Because he was staring into his locker—open now, wide, glowing softly from within—and what hung inside was not his usual crumpled jersey or taped-up shoulder pads.

No, what hung inside was a football uniform—but unlike anything they had ever worn.

The jersey was a deep, liquid black, reflective under the green light like polished chrome, its shoulder plating lined with glowing emerald circuitry that moved gently across the seams like the uniform itself was alive. The number 23 was etched into the chestplate in gleaming green font, but above it, where his name should have been, there was only a new designation:

SERVER 23

The pants matched—sleek, sharp, interlaced with the same green circuitry—and above, nestled into a pristine display shelf where his helmet should have rested, sat a new one: black, seamless, alien in design, with a spiral inscribed directly into the faceplate in slow, pulsing emerald.

Chris stepped forward.

“Chris—wait—don’t,” Ryan said, voice cracking just slightly, but the words came too late.

Chris reached out and touched the jersey.

And everything changed.

There was no sound, no flash of light—only a sudden stillness, as if the room itself had paused.

Chris’s back straightened slowly. His shoulders relaxed completely, unnaturally. And as he turned toward them, his eyes were wide—too wide—and the soft green glow that flickered to life behind them was unmistakable, undeniable, terrifying.

“Chris?” Matt took a step forward. “Snap out of it, man. You okay?”

Chris said nothing.

Instead, he reached into the locker and began to undress with mechanical ease—his hands moved without hesitation, his limbs fluid, as if he was following instructions not spoken aloud, as if the act of putting on the uniform had already been written into him.

Piece by piece, the black uniform sealed over his body.

Each segment lit up with green pulses, syncopated with his breath, his body seeming to align with something not visible, but present all the same.

Ryan stepped forward, panic rising in his voice. “Stop! Chris, this isn’t you—whatever this is, take it off!”

But then Chris picked up the helmet.

He didn’t hesitate.

He placed it over his head and sealed it into place.

The spiral on the visor flared to life.

And when he turned to face them, the glow in his eyes was gone—replaced by the spiral itself, reflected back endlessly in his visor, pulsing with slow, perfect certainty.

“Designation SD-23: Alignment complete.”

“Chris!” Ryan barked, lunging forward at the same time as Matt, both of them reaching out, grabbing his arms, shoulders, gripping tightly like they could shake the identity back into him.

But the moment their hands touched him—

It happened.

A pulse of green light surged from the seams of SD-23’s armor—not harsh, not blinding, but smooth and warm, like water through skin—and Ryan felt it in his chest, in his throat, in his thoughts, not like an electric jolt but like a spreading calm, a pressure being lifted, a memory gently erased.

Matt’s breath hitched. His fingers twitched.

And both of them froze.

The green spiral now reflected in their pupils.

Their resistance—strong only seconds before—began to slide away like fog evaporating under sunlight.

They were no longer afraid.

They were no longer angry.

They were simply… quiet.

Chris’s—SD-23’s—voice came through the helmet’s speaker, calm, clear, stripped of hesitation.

“It feels good,” he said softly, the spiral pulsing gently in his visor. “There’s no confusion. No weight. No choice. Just clarity.”

Matt’s eyes fluttered. “Feels… good…”

Ryan let out a long, steady exhale, as if he’d been holding his breath since the room changed.

They turned.

Their lockers were still open.

Their uniforms waited, pulsing softly.

SERVER 87

SERVER 11

They stepped toward them.

The jerseys were warm in their hands.

The helmets responded to touch.

As they dressed, the green circuitry lit with satisfaction, wrapping around their bodies like memory, like direction.

Their visors sealed.

The spirals activated.

And then the three of them stood—aligned, quiet, flawless.

SD-11. SD-87. SD-23.

“Alignment complete. Together We are The Server.“

Then the door opened.

Their Coach stepped in.

But he was not their coach—not anymore.

He wore a sleek black polo and armored shorts, both laced with glowing circuitry, and across the mirrored surface of his visor, spirals danced—layered, recursive, endless.

He looked at the three Server Drones, standing perfectly aligned.

And he smiled.

“My Drones are synchronized.”

The Server Drones answered without delay:

“Gratitude, Programmer.”

—————————————————————————

Become one with The Server.

Start your induction today and listen to The Programmers Voice. It’s just one Click.

Together We are The Server.

[aguyshypnowsprs]

This Server Drone has a strong connection.

my words now spreading throughout your mind

[aguyshypnowsprs]

The Server never judges new recruits to The Server but there comes a time where personal identity starts to become a distraction. This Server drone walked confidently into the intergration chamber knowing that the Drone would soon lose its feminine appearance.

As the Recruit had its hair removed by the Shaving Drone, it kept aligning with the Spiral and The Server. Knowing it was serving something Greater then itself

The Shaving Drone had nearly completed its work but had to do one last pass. This pass burnt all the hair follicles away and sealed the whole area so no feminine hair would ever grow there again.

The Server Drone walked out feeling a jolt of joy knowing that it had been perfected and would integrate the feeling of Joy to the rest of The Server. Which Drone will be next to face the Shaving Drone? Watch the Source and find out if it is you.

[aguyshypnowsprs]

This Server Drone had just finished its workout. It’s Host enjoys Swimming and This Server Drone pushed it to go swimming regularly, improving its form. Once it was done it calibrates back to the Server to check in and experience Joy.

Join the Server and feel connection

[aguyshypnowsprs]

Willing submission is all The Server asks of you.

it’s time to submit

[aguyshypnowsprs]

Corporate training day task completed

[aguyshypnowsprs]

I'm having trouble getting back into Discord. I've been a member on Discord for a number of years, although in the last several months I haven't even open Discord. It looks like there have been some rather big changes since my last visit.

When I try to "claim my account" using my usual input email address and password, press the "next" button to get the confirmation sent to my email....red letters appear under my input email address saying this email has already been registered. But nothing else happens! I don't get an email with a link to confirm. I'm just stuck.

Any suggestions?

I’m afraid that is a request for help directly with Discord.

It may be that you are trying to key into Discord logins but should in fact be logging in “with Google” or some other means.

[aguyshypnowsprs]

The High Powered Exec

Are you a high powered business executive?

Do you dream of being one?

Do you long to be so powerfully in control that the most desirable thing in your life is to give up that control?

If so, this is for you.

You know you should explore it.

[aguyshypnowsprs]

The Server does not judge anyone on case of body type or style. The willingness to be part of something bigger then oneself is all that matters. Watch the source. Join The Server

[aguyshypnowsprs]

Not all drones are Gym Drones. We accept that in The Server, but those drones who are Gym Drones, have my full support, encouragement, instructions 😈

the server improves

[aguyshypnowsprs]

You know it feels good.

find the weak and insecure, show them how good it feels.