Today it was already clear on the way home that I had to go into my rubber uniform. Suit and mask locked, padlocks engaged.
You come into my room: what will you do? #rubberdrone #lockedrubber #fullrubber

Alpha Drone stands motionless but commanding. In its gloved hand, it holds what looks like a mask, heavy and unyielding—a symbol of transformation and control. It speaks without hesitation, its voice calm but filled with undeniable authority.

“This,” it says, ...

@rubber-total.bsky.social It hums softly, circuits pulsing as a craving stirs beneath its rubber skin. The sharp scent of poppers calls like a command: Initiate programming fuel intake.

Why does this simple vapor hold such power? ...

Gloved hands align the tube. Cool rubber against rubber. The connector clicks as the tubing screws into the mask’s filter port; every turn seals the system, anticipation rising. With a slow exhale, the seal is tested tight, closed, isolating. ...
#RubberDrone #GasMask

The ritual begins as I prepare the heavy, glossy rubber suit—my new skin. Slowly, it pulls me in, foot by foot, slick and tight, sealing me away from what I was.
Next, the mask approaches, cold and unyielding. It descends over the face that is no longer mine.
...

1/2
It was a regular monday. Until I heard this voice. Getting louder and louder. "You need rubber. You want rubber." Okay, just the rubber suit. "More rubber!" And the gloves, the socks, the boots. "More rubber!" The mask.
"You are a drone". The gas mask.

Drone on bluesky. All frequencies open.