Sub encounter: Plumber

Three weeks after the encounter with plumber Steve, I found myself working in the garage at home. The weather was balmy and I had left the front doors open to let some breeze in.

In the weeks that had past, I hadn’t spent more than a few minutes here and there thinking about Steve. So, I was surprised to see a NesPlumb van roll up, and park in front of the neighbor’s house.

I didn’t alter my cupboard painting rhythm, but I did notice that no one got out.

Ten minutes later as I finished the last coat, I decided to see what the fuck was happening. I had a pretty good idea, but I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

As I made my way toward the parked van, part of my theory was confirmed. It was Steve at least.

As I walked to the driver’s side window, he rolled it down.

“Are you going to sit here all day, or come in and get it off your chest.” I said gruffly.

I turned and walked back down the drive.

As I went, I heard the van door open, then close.

I didn’t bother about turning around, I knew he was following.

As I settled in the garage, I turned to see him ten steps behind me.

As he crossed over the threshold, I hit the wall switch and the panel door went through its clattering cycle to close.

As it bottomed out, we were suddenly in silence.

I decided to stay mom. This was going to be interesting, if nothing else.

He, stood ill at ease. Still in his work gear, he’d clearly been out on a Saturday morning call-out.

Moving from one foot to the other, having no idea what to do with his hands, he finally spoke.

“Um, about what happened last time.” He started, unsure.

I stayed quiet.

“I just wanted to say, my dick isn’t so small.” He paused to judge my response. He didn’t get one. “I mean, I had sex with three women.”

He seemed finished.

“Ok, thanks for stopping by to tell me.” I pressed the release, and the garage door began its noisy assent. He lent forward and hit the down button.

“Are you not going to say anything else?” he quizzed with an edge of desperation in his voice.

I paused as if in contemplation.

“Well,” I finally began. “If you have decided to return to denial, and pretend to be who you’re not. Then what can I say?”

“But, but, its not that way.” He blurted, making no sense.

“Look, you arrive here, and the first thing you tell me is your dick isn’t small. Which it is.”

“You fucked three women, who haven’t come back.”

“You’re confused enough to look up the database to find my address, then just sit in your van.”

“Sounds to me like you have it all under control.” I paused. “Of course, I’m going to say thanks for stopping by.”

“Either tell me what you’re doing here, no bullshit, or go home and keep pretending you’re who you used to be.”

He was suddenly torn, badly torn. I gestured toward the door.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on.” He finally declared.

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes sense.”

“I think about what happened, and I hate it.” He declared. “Then, I jack off to it over and over again.”

“I promise to let it go, then hope you call for another job.” He took a breath. “I keep scanning the job board looking for your name.”

“Ok, so you’re rattled.” I placated.

“Listen to me carefully. What do you want?”

“I want it to go back to..”

“What do you fucken want!” I bellowed, cutting him off.

“I want you to teach me more of that stuff!” he finally declared with exasperation.

Now we were getting somewhere.

“Ok, we can do that.” I replied simply.

I watched on as his shoulders finally relaxed.

“Thanks,” he replied, meaning it.

“Before we start. I want you to think over the next few days how long it took us to get to this point.”

He nodded.

“Not sure you’d find many guys willing to put up with your bullshit. I know I won’t be doing it again.”

He shifted uncomfortably.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry sir.”

“Good. Just so you know, I’m not interested in your journey.”

“I just treat you as if you’re already there.”

He swallowed.

“Thank you sir.”

*

“Get your gear off and stand at Display.” I directed as he jumped into action.

As he undressed and tossed his short shorts aside, I bent to pick them up.

When he was in what was an excellent Display stance, I still had his shorts in hand. They were roughly worn, but like all good tradesman work-wear, it still had a lot of life left in it.

“How many pairs of shorts do you have?” I asked a seemingly disconnected question.

“Four,” he replied, a crease of confusion across his brow. “One old pair, and three I bought that the same time.”

“All the same size?” he nodded, “and you wear them summer and winter?” he nodded.

“It gets cold really slowly, so I don’t notice until, its fucken freezing.” He paused, “by then its starting to warm up, and before I know it, it’s as hot as fuck!” he completed.

I dumped his gear then turned to face him.

I took in his excellent fat free form.

He was maximum eye candy.

I rubbed my hand down his hair free abs. They were perfect.

“How are you finding being bare?”

“It’s itchy, a lot!” I get rashes.

That wouldn’t do.

“You can keep a light bush under your arms, and a small snail trail from your belly button to your cock base.” I permitted.

“You can keep your chest to number one.”

“See how you go with that.”

He nodded he understood.

“So, tell me about the fantasies you’ve been having.”

He swallowed, I’d hit a major uncomfortable nerve.

“What happens in them?”

“Um, it’s just, being told to do stuff I don’t want to. Being told stuff I don’t like to hear.”

“Like the truth that you’ve got a tiny dick?”

He nodded, now really ill at ease.

I took his cock in hand.

It was already starting to firm.

“But you do have a tiny dick.”

“Um, I know.”

“And you do like being told you’re a dumb fuck, who needs to be told what to do.” I escalated.

Now he really swallowed.

“You think I’m dumb?”

“How would you describe how you’ve behaved since you pulled up outside?”

“I’m dumb too?” he asked, worried.

I paused for effect.

“You’re a dumb fuck with a tiny dick, Jesus!” I uttered.

I watched as his shoulders slumped.

Time to rebuild him, a little.

I moved to the side of the garage and retrieved one of the old dining chairs we kept for larger gatherings.

I sat.

“Kneel,” I directed, pointing to the space in front of me.

He moved as directed. Again, it was perfect execution.

“Look,” I began gently, “you’re a dumb fuck, small dicked submissive.”

“Big fucken deal!” I continued. “You’ve got a great body, a nice smile, and the toughness to be a sub. You just don’t know it.”

“If I was looking to recruit a boy, I be proud to call you mine.” I reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. He continued to lock eyes with me.

“Being a sub isn’t an easy path, it takes courage.”

I paused to let him mentally catch up.

“Personally, I think you’re just struggling to come to terms with who you are. But, you’ll get there.”

“I think your body already knows it, it”s just waiting for you to catch up.”

I made a show of looking down.

“Based on how I’ve spoken to you, only a true sub would have a cock as hard as yours is now.”

He looked down, and blushed.

he gave a half-embarrassed nod, not brave enough to talk.

I decided to wait him out.

“Um, I don’t know what to do now?”

“Well, I’m impressed that you’ve at least started telling yourself the truth.”

He nodded back.

“Can I keep coming back?” He asked, genuinely, “you know, to ask what next?”

“If you want, but I’m not sure I’ll have anything to tell you.”

“But I can still come? Just to check?”

“Sure, if you’re respectful, and don’t bring anymore bullshit like today. I don't see why not.”

He smiled, the first genuinely relieved smile he had expressed since he arrived.

I motioned him up.

He naturally stood at Display, waiting for release. It dawned on me that he might actually make it.

I bent to pick up his work shorts.

“These shorts,” I started.

The door opened.

“Dad can I get………