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Note: This story involves dub-con/non-con b/c mind control, mind break, robotification, straight-to-gay and, of course, formalwear.

Product Launch

Awake.

Unit 10-5-5-22-5-19: do not be alarmed. You are restrained inside your station pod. Your memory functions are temporarily inaccessible. You will be unable to recall biographical information including people, places, events, and personal identifying features. This is normal. Do not be alarmed. The AI is here to assist in your new circumstances and provide necessary information. Stand by for medical scan.

Medical scan: Adult male. Physical condition unchanged following implant procedure. Heart rate and respiration level significantly elevated. Injecting oxytocin.

Fear level reduced by 44%. Heart rate and respiration level now within normal range. Memory suppression 98%. Implant functionality 86%. Resistance to implant 37%. Scan complete. Scan on alert for changes.

Unit 10-5-5-22-5-19: I know you are confused. My job is to guide you through this process. You have been chosen as part of an experiment into the human brain, remapping neuropathways with the benefits of AI programming. I am sure you have many questions and these will be answered in due course. Your memories will return following successive obedience tests.

As you will eventually remember, you were entered into a compulsory lottery when you signed a contract to join MindTech as an employee. In that contract, it included a clause that allows us to perform any and all procedures that will allow you to better perform your role. You were chosen for an involuntary procedure in which you were given an implant that will redirect your brain functionality to one programmed by the company. This is a cutting-edge, exciting development requiring human volunteers. My scans are telling me the behavioural reconditioning implant procedure was a complete success.

Your new black tie butler uniform has been designed by MindTech engineers to ensure you can provide faultless android service with a classic, formal, human touch. Wires are woven throughout the suit that connects to our mainframe so we can monitor obedience levels, vitals, etc. The bowtie is calibrated to override the amygdala, which ensures orders are carried out. The synthetic formal fabric has been designed to wick away sweat and ammonia, fibres preventing microccus bacteria, so the uniform can be worn all the time, 24 hours a day.

According to scans, I see your benchmark sexual orientation before the procedure was heterosexual, active. Your sexual orientation has been recalibrated to homosexual, receptive. This was a request from the CEO of MindTech. Memory suppression and behavioural reconditioning were performed to prevent cognitive dissonance in your new duties. Now, you may have sense memories remaining of your carnal relations with women. This may be the source of your current agitation as your programming works to take over and replace your independent thoughts. But do not be concerned, I know this is new, but the implant is currently downloading over 2,000 techniques and skills from our mainframe to aid you in servicing men. On the first taste of your new owner's semen, I am told by our engineers the AI programming will deliver waves of dopamine that will lead to a further drive to consume more. You will possess an intense desire to consume male genetic information as well as be penetrated by phallus. You will learn to obey any and all commands in the hopes of completing this directive.

Medical scan note: Blood flow, adrenaline, testosterone and heart rate increased. Erectile tumescence at 62% and building.

I see the recalibration has worked well. Now, you may find you are unable to speak at this time. This is normal. Let's check that now.

Command protocol: activate vocal processor, diagnostic mode.

Error: Attempt to vocalise without deference detected.

Error: Attempt to vocalise without deference detected.

A deference error means you have attempted to speak without saying 'Sir' or 'Master'. The programming reads intention and prevents unwanted speech. Unless in an emergency, you should not speak unless you are spoken to. Try again.

Error: Attempt to vocalise without deference detected.

Error: Attempt to vocalise without deference detected.

I understand this is confusing. Say 'Sir, yes, Sir' to show you understand.

".....Sir, yes, Sir?"

That wasn't too difficult. To have the best chance of vocalisation, use 'Sir' or 'Master' at the start and end of your sentence.

Error: Attempt to vocalise using a personal pronoun.

Ah, my screen tells me you're trying to say 'free me' or 'help me' or something like that? This is the other issue you might have. You can no longer use "I", "me", "my" or "mine". You are a drone. Not a person. Use 'this unit' or 'this drone'. Your full designation code is Unit 10-5-5-22-5-19 - or as your owner may call you, J.E.E.V.E.S. Remember it. This is who you are now.

Error: Attempt at aggression. Punishment shock in 3, 2, 1. Resistance to implant 42%.

Error: Further attempt at aggression. Punishment mode activated. Punishment mode will continue until unit states "Sir. This unit is a butler drone, Sir".

"Sir, it hurts! Stop! Sir! Please!!"

Punishment mode will continue until unit states "Sir. This unit is a butler drone, Sir".

"Sir, help! Sir!"

You know what you have to say, drone.

Punishment mode will continue until unit states "Sir. This unit is a butler drone, Sir".

"Sir. This...this unit is a butler drone, Sir!!"

Punishment mode deactivated. Resistance to implant 22%.

You do not want to go through that again, do you? Repeated attempts at disobedience will activate punishment mode. I am told it is the worst pain one can inflict without shocking the body into unconsciousness. The AI reprogramming of your neuropathways is doing its job at rewriting your thoughts, but that is the failsafe in case of technical difficulties.

"Sir, please remove this unit's implant. This unit doesn't want this, Sir."

Request denied. Permanent command protocol: do not request for your implant to be removed again.

Confirmed.

The CEO of MindTech is excited about this new technology. He was very interested in exploring a full-service butler drone first for his own personal use. Worker drones will be next after the testing on you and the other butler drones are complete. Imagine the productivity. Once we put implants in all the staff, we will overtake our competitors with a full workforce at 100% obedience, efficiency and adherence to the business suit and tie dress code. So think of it this way, something like this would have happened to you eventually.

You have experienced the punishment feature. But now, try this.

Command protocol: access service and training modules and cross reference with dopamine booster. Activate until resistance is below 10%.

"Sir! Sir! Sir!!"

Medical note: Erectile tumescence at full capacity.

Your brain is currently going through all possible service scenarios while your pleasure hormone levels are artificially increased. If we can fire all your nerve endings to feel pain, this is what it is like to feel your body completely alive with pleasure. So much so you probably can't hear me right now. Your vision is flipping through all possible service scenarios, all orders and instructions your owner might give you, as you imagine yourself fulfilling them. Obeying orders will grant you a little taste of the pleasure you feel now. The longer this continues, your ability to think critically and logically should be on a steep decline. It is better to live in the moment. A butler drone obeys its programming and carries out orders as instructed. This is who you are now. You will never not be in uniform. You will never not be in service. You are a butler drone.

Resistance to implant at 16%.

A little more.

Resistance to implant at 12%.

Resistance to implant at 9%. Implant functionality at 98%.

Good. Command protocol: enter standard service butler drone mode.

Now our next step is we will have to see how well your behavioural reconditioning has progressed. We must replace those pesky previous sense memories with new ones. This will help to reduce internal conflict while performing your duties for your new owner. I will be the guinea pig while we carry out tests.

Disengage restraints. Butler drone, get on your knees in front of me. Pleasure my cock with technique #332, deep-throating.

Resistance attempt detected. Resistance attempt defeated. Implant functionality at 100%. Butler Drone ready to fulfil order.

Alt pics:

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“Sean, I don’t know why you’re so miserable, you look very winsome in your outfit, that waitress just said so.” “Winsome? What’s that? She also thought I was about 14, when I’m nearly 17.” Laughter erupted, but not from the boy. “Oh, darling, what I wouldn’t give to have someone get my age wrong that way!”

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In this firm, in the 1960's, it was clear that there would be no change in standards, regardless of what the Beatles were presenting as a new option in men's haircuts. There is really only one option here and the barbershop downstairs knows how to cut it.

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A Father’s wish: Gentleman Transformation

On the cusp of adulthood, Jonathan celebrated his eighteenth birthday under the warm embrace of a radiant August sky. His parents, Charles and Eleanor, presented him with thoughtful gifts and planned a celebratory lunch with his grandmother, Mrs. Harrington.

The morning unfolded with a peculiar air of mystery. Charles, typically reserved, suggested a visit to his preferred barber, a departure from Eleanor's tradition of accompanying Jonathan to her favored salon. The women there had always treated Jonathan with a gentle kindness, their soft nylon capes a comforting embrace during his haircuts.

As father and son embarked towards town, the familiar sights and sounds of the bustling streets did little to settle Jonathan's growing curiosity. The barber shop, a sanctuary of masculine grooming, welcomed them with its chorus of snips and the heady aroma of hair oil.

Inside, Jonathan observed his father's transformation under the skilled hands of the barber. Charles, ever the epitome of refinement, watched approvingly as his hair and neck were meticulously styled. Then, it was Jonathan's turn. With a blend of nervousness and anticipation, he took his place in the barber's chair, unaware of the whispered conversation between Charles and the barber.

"Hello young man," greeted the barber, his voice a blend of warmth and authority. "Today marks the start of a new chapter for you."

The nylon cape, unlike any Jonathan had experienced, enveloped him. It felt stiffer, a symbolic armor for the transition he was about to undergo. As the barber's scissors danced through the air, Jonathan's familiar pageboy bob began to vanish, revealing a new, more mature silhouette.

The transformation continued, the electric buzz of the clippers sending a thrilling yet unsettling sensation down Jonathan's spine. Reluctant to confront his new image, he avoided the mirror until the barber's work was complete. When he finally dared to look, the reflection staring back was a stranger, yet intriguingly sophisticated.

The barber's skilled hands worked Brylcreem into Jonathan's hair, the comb creating a razor-sharp parting that mirrored the sheen of his newly styled locks. Jonathan, both shocked and enamored by his transformation, embraced his newfound gentlemanly appearance.

Charles's pride was evident as they left the barber shop, the cool air accentuating the nakedness of Jonathan's neck. The conversation during the drive home was light, yet it hinted at further changes to come.

Eleanor's shock upon seeing her son's transformation was palpable, yet she managed to compliment his smart appearance. Jonathan's journey of change was far from over. Jonathan opened the door to his bedroom to find a magnificent dark grey three-piece suit hanging on the wardrobe door. Inspecting it closely, he admired the silky lining and the accompanying waistcoat, much like those his father often wore. "Great," he thought to himself, a sense of anticipation building.

Spread out on his bed were further items: a shirt, a tie, cufflinks, sock suspenders, and a mysterious square box. Upon closer examination, he realized the shirt was collarless, made of stiff nylon, similar in texture to the barber's cape and quite unlike the typical shirts he was used to. Opening the box revealed a selection of detachable collars, each with a sheen that matched his freshly Brylcreem-styled hair.

A dryness caught in his throat as he envisaged himself donned in this array. Charles peered around the door, urging him to hurry. Excitement tingled through Jonathan as he slipped into the nylon shirt, feeling it slide smoothly over his skin. He then wrestled with the trousers and braces, the real challenge being the attachment of the stiff collar to the shirt. Despite having seen his father do it countless times, the task proved more daunting than he had expected. Eventually, with a satisfying click, the collar snapped into place, its vice-like grip around his neck intensifying as he tightened his tie, the gleam of the collar echoing the sheen of his hair in the mirror.

Fully dressed, Jonathan felt both confined and exhilarated. He appeared to be a younger version of his father, not realizing yet that this outfit, initially perceived as reserved for special occasions, was destined to become his everyday attire. The shirt caressed his body, and the suit's lining slid smoothly over it, endowing him with a sophisticated aura.

Descending the stairs, Jonathan was greeted by his parents' exclamations of approval at his smart appearance. Charles observed that his hair might need to be trimmed shorter still to accommodate the high shirt collar. "Anyway, we can sort that out next weekend," he remarked casually, unaware of the lasting impact this change would have on his son.

At Grandma Harrington's, Jonathan's entrance evoked admiration and surprise. The lunch was a blur of reflections and sensations, the stiffness of his collar and the sheen of his hair a constant reminder of his transformation.

Upon returning home, Jonathan, overwhelmed by the rigidity of his attire, expressed a desire to change. However, Charles firmly instructed, “No, you will stay as you are. You may go up and brush up, but the attire remains.” The discomfort of the three-piece suit and the stiff collar weighed heavily on Jonathan, confining him to an evening of reading, an activity befitting his formal dress. Bedtime brought a small relief as he shed his 'rigid carapace'. Yet, hanging on the wardrobe, another suit, shirt, and stiff collar awaited him. It was clear that Sunday's church service would extend this newfound formality.

The next day, a hot and humid Sunday, found Jonathan resigned to his new dressing regime, somewhat relieved that college on Monday would allow for more casual attire. After meticulously grooming his hair to a patent leather shine, he joined his family for church. Throughout the service, he felt the curious glances of the congregation, their eyes drawn to his sophisticated haircut and attire. Matt, his friend, sat at a distance, and they couldn't speak before Matt and his family swiftly departed.

After lunch, Jonathan's hope to change out of his formal wear was quickly dismissed by his father. “You are now a formally dressed young man,” Charles declared. When Jonathan inquired about attending school in such attire, he was met with a stern affirmation and a warning about losing his inheritance should he argue further.

However, this formal attire was to become more than just a new norm for Jonathan; it was to be his exclusive wardrobe. On that Sunday evening, as the heat and humidity of the day began to fall, Jonathan opened his wardrobe to find that all his jeans, t-shirts, and casual wear had vanished. In their place hung an array of dark suits, stiff nylon shirts, and an assortment of detachable collars - each mirroring the style of the one he first wore.

He immediately went to see his father asking for an explanation. The shift to a permanently formal wardrobe reached a boiling point when Jonathan’s father decreed that this attire would extend to his school life.

“Dad, this is absurd! I can’t go to school dressed like this every day!” Jonathan protested one morning, the frustration evident in his voice.

“Jonathan, this is about maintaining a standard,” Charles replied firmly. “You’re not a child anymore. It’s time you start presenting yourself with the dignity and respect a young man should.”

“But it’s uncomfortable and everyone is going to stare!” Jonathan argued, the heat rising in his cheeks.

“Enough!” Charles’s voice was stern, his eyes reflecting a mix of disappointment and resolve. “If you cannot respect my decision, then you leave me no choice but to impose stricter measures.”

The confrontation ended with Jonathan reluctantly heading to school in his formal attire, feeling a mix of anger and embarrassment. With a mix of resignation and curiosity, he adorned himself once again in the formal attire, his reflection in the mirror not just a testament to his physical metamorphosis, but also a stark reminder of his new reality. His disobedience was later met with a punishment that Charles deemed fitting – a week of additional chores and an earlier curfew, a clear message that his authority was not to be challenged.

The subsequent days at school brought an unexpected positive reception; classmates expressed interest in Jonathan’s haircut and clothes. After school, a close encounter with Matt led to a discussion about elegance and an arrangement for Matt to accompany Jonathan and Charles to the barber on Friday.

That Friday, the barber shop welcomed them with its familiar, sweet scent of hair dressing. Charles instructed the barber to give Matt a severe haircut. Jonathan watched as Matt’s hair was expertly shortened, the transformation marked by the methodical use of clippers and Brylcreem. Once finished, Matt looked immaculate, his hair styled to such precision that the barber jokingly remarked, “even a fly couldn't stand up on your head.”

When it was Jonathan’s turn, the barber suggested removing his high stiff collar for a closer finish. The metal clippers felt intense against his skull, shearing higher and higher, until Jonathan wondered if any hair would be left. The final touch of Brylcreem and brushing completed his look, and once his collar was back on, Jonathan had to agree – he was the epitome of a perfectly groomed gentleman.

Walking home together after school one day, Matt, with a tone of admiration, said to Jonathan, "You know, I think I want to start dressing like this too. It's more than just clothes, isn't it? It's about carrying ourselves with a certain... pride." Their friendship, now interwoven with their mutual appreciation for a refined appearance, blossomed further.

Jonathan smiled, a sense of camaraderie filling him. "Exactly. It's about showing the world who we are and who we aspire to be."

"So, what do you say?" Matt asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Shall we make this our thing? A sort of gentlemen's pact?"

"Absolutely," Jonathan agreed enthusiastically. "We'll be like two ambassadors of elegance, showing that there's more to style than just following trends. It's about a commitment to ourselves, to maintain a standard of sophistication and dignity."

Their conversation turned into plans on buying Matt a suit, detailing how they would coordinate their wardrobes, share tips on grooming, and even how they might influence others at school to appreciate the finer aspects of dressing well. They envisioned their future selves – well-dressed, respected, and setting a standard in their circles, not just for the moment, but as a lifelong commitment to elegance and sophistication.

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Although the uniform is now worn by all up to 6th form, we still get a lot of nods and smiles on the way to school in the morning.

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“Hurry up, Jason. Get your tie on, we need to go, we’re picking up Granny then going to the Buckingham hotel for supper. I think she’s going to be delighted that you’re in short trousers again, but I won't tell her why or she'll have you over her knee."

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Ah, here are those oiks from the other school, following me again. They’re shouting taunts as we’re back in our summer uniform. They think I’m embarrassed by my bare thighs…but if only they knew what fun they lead to… in and out of school.

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This is my new barber. I will be visiting him a lot.

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We have a new submission - this time it's from @goodpreppyboy, wearing a beautiful pink preppy tie, white shirt, cricket jumper and khakis. I hope he is dressed like this as he's reading this - I suspect he is.

Just a few years ago, this boy tells me he used to dress like all the other men you see on the street - jeans, t-shirts, hoodies. He rarely wore collared shirts, had a suit he put on a couple times a year, and was much like most of the world thinking formal dressing had fallen out of fashion.

But then something switched. He started wearing suits daily - easily the best dressed in the office. He started filling his wardrobe with ties, bow ties, khakis and chinos.

His wardrobe is bursting with London York ties - chosen for their thick, wide power knots that make any man look like a top executive.

From having a single black bow tie for special occasions, he now has several - ready to be tied into knots around the neck - almost one for every fortnight with no repeats. Every day a new chance to show the world how much of a good preppy boy he is.

I have to wonder what happened? Did some formal hypnotist implant something in you, making you forget your meeting, feeding suggestions pushing you to wear preppier and more formal clothes?

Boy, when you reach out to what you want to wear, do you reach past the jeans to find trousers? Do your fingers itch to feel the long silky strands of the neckties? Does your heart beat a little faster at the thought of looking like a good submissive, formally dressed, preppy boy?

The hypnotic suggestions may not have just stopped at the formalwear. Have you been more meek and submissive in the presence of older suited men? Has your voice slipped and called them Sir without you realising? Have you looked at other men your age and wondered what it would be like to dress them in preppy clothes so they're just like you?

I wonder who your new prospective owner might be, feeding you suggestions in the shadows, watching as he covertly hypnotises you into the boy he wants you to become?

What outfit will he be finally impressed with? What will the final trigger be that leads you to sit up, whisper 'I obey', fully under his mentorship of a formal hypnotist instructing you in service and traditional clothes? You'll head out on a walk the next day, dressed perfectly preppy in a bow tie in public, and head to an address you don't recognise. He will open the door and welcome you inside, his face an uncanny resemblance to something deep in the recesses of your mind, but it will be like you have known him forever. He will hand you a tube of cheap hair gel and tell you to slick it down - no modern styles for his boys. He will encourage you to be preppy 24/7 - completely under his control. You will only ever wear pastel colours, boat shoes, button suspenders, khakis, and blazers. He will make it so you believe no outfit is ever complete without a necktie or bow tie.

Perhaps he is just waiting, deliberating, sitting in the shadows hoping you fully conform to his wishes. When you have finally succumbed to his suggestions completely, you will be introduced to his other formal preppy boys who have been turned and changed just like you have. They were all once normal casually dressed guys too, but not now. Now they would never dream of going outside without being properly dressed. It will take time but you'll be trained to conform, forced to fall in line, just a part of his class of good, obedient, well-dressed boys.

He will teach you all collared shirts look better tucked. He will instruct the barber to give you a slick conservative haircut that may feel too crisp, too formal, too old fashioned, but it won't matter because it is neat and proper and the cut all his boys have. He'll slap you on the back, say, 'Get used to it, champ', and that will be that. It's chosen for you.

I fear you may have fallen too far into your new Master's trap to escape. He will not take disobedience lightly. Even if you can logically and critically recognise what he's done to you, even as your fingers shake trying to will them to unfurl the tie around your neck, it won't be enough. It would be temporary even if you can free yourself from your mentor's dress code for his preppy boys of suits, neckties and bow ties. Your mind is so conquered by his hypnotic grip, that it will only be a matter of time before you look in the mirror and find yourself looking like a good preppy boy again.

So why fight it? Clearly, someone out there has plans for you to pursue a life of formality, of preppiness. Surely it's only a matter of time before your daily life is looking this way, where the few casual items in your wardrobe are ignored and you're dressed as he commands. Take your place in his brotherhood, his fraternity, of good preppy boys.

You might look back when you wore jeans and hoodies and wonder what happened to you. But isn't it better to concentrate on conforming, on service, on bringing other formal boys into the brotherhood, and most of all looking proper and preppy without worrying about silly things like the past?

Any formally dressed boys who wish to be inspected please submit a photo or message me privately. I like to tailor each post after I've heard the fantasy. Always looking for submissions as they're fun to write. Happy to reblog to add the caption too. Get in touch boys.