The Rubberdex - #794 Buzzwole (Patreon)

 "Flex, grow, worship"

That was all he had heard from the moment the mask had latched onto him. He could feel himself swelling, muscles bloating with potent rubbery mass.

"Flex, grow, worship"

Every time he tried tyo panic, his thoughts were drowned out which an eager whisper, commanding him in such a gentle manner it was hard to resist.

"Flex, grow, worship"

Who was he to worship? Was he being made to serve? To flex?

"Flex, grow, worship"

He had to .... he needed to ...

"Flex, grow, worship"

Flex, grow, worship.