Sub encounter: Plumber

As the time ticked by 9.30am the next morning, I noticed on the front security camera, Steve had pulled up. I wandered down to the garage, and popped the door, as he made his way up the drive. As directed, he wore the tightest work shorts I thought he could have possibly fit into. As he suggested they would be, they were barely more than rags. Stained, torn with holes revealing what were probably briefs. He looked as hot as fuck!

"Boy" I greeted as he made his way towards the center of the space. I lowered the door.

"Morning Sir." he responded, as he began to shuck his gear.

When done he stood at Display.

"How is the hair management?" I asked, as I motioned for him to stand in front of me.

With my foot, I gently nudged his legs to an extra wide stance.

"Much better with your suggestions sir, thank you."

At that moment, James entered from the house door.

Dressed in his gridiron trunks, he held his helmet and jersey under his arm, as he struggled to get his crutch laces tightened.

"Hey Dad," he said, looking up from his task. 'Hey boy," he added, seeing Steve.

"Son," I greeted back.

"Sir," replied Steve.

He finished his effort, but continued to stand shirtless.

"Where are subs S and C?" he asked. Apparently, he'd taken to shortening their labels.

"Your mother has them cleaning, they'll be in here at ten." He nodded.

"It's going to take some time to adjust," he suggested, resting back against the bench, clearly up for a chat.

"For all of us," I agreed.

"I think for a start, we'll need to make sure we're consistent with how we speak." I continued.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll show you," I looked around and found a random length of wood trim, I’d been using to line the cupboard I had built. I flick tapped the arm long length, against Steve's bare balls.

The strike wasn't vicious, but enough to be uncomfortable. Steve flinched, but remained in stance. He let out a little whimper.

"Steve here has a tiny package."

I tapped him again, a little bit less force, but another whimper. I smiled a tad.

"It wouldn't matter if he had a bigger pack," I continued, tapping him again. "We, his betters, will always describe him as hung tiny."

I tapped him again.

"It's a matter of reinforcing his inferior self-image." I added. "Follow?"

"Ok," he confirmed, "but what's the ball torture got to do with it?"

"Nothing, this is me just entertaining myself, as we chat." I tapped the boy again.

James laughed out loud, shaking his head, grinning.

"It's not just about how we talk around subs, it's about how we behave." I tapped again, another whimper.

"While I'm stinging Steve, I'm not hurting him badly. The thing is, he and I know, I could," I continued.

"The learning for the sub is that he's 'allowing' the ball strikes, even enjoying them. In any man’s world, that’s the act of a dumb fuck. Like I said, good reinforcement of his true self."

James nodded, getting it.

"Steve is coming along well, he's on his way to understanding his own inner worth, is based on how well he services the men around him." I tapped one last time, making it a little more aggressive. Steve winced and sort of half turned at his waist. I place the trim back on the bench, ignoring him.

"Boys C and S will travel the same path," I summarised, "we just have to support their journey."

"How we talk and act," James confirmed, as I nodded.

"Hey, I better get going, coach gets stressed if we're late." James looked up at the dusty wall clock. I opened the door.

He jogged out, and jumped in his car.

Suddenly it was just Steve and me.

"Sir, may I speak?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Thank you for allowing me to hear those words sir," he said.

"Well, they weren't for you, but if you gained benefit, no problem."

"Sir, may I suck you?" he asked.

I looked up at the clock, we had time.

"Why?" I asked, to see what would come of the question.

"Sir, since I pleasured you yesterday, I can't stop thinking of doing it again" he paused, "I mean it's all I can think of!"

"Boy, that's good use of your little brain, if you find yourself thinking about anything else, discipline yourself to come back to being a sub."

"Yes sir, thank you sir."

He lowered himself to his knees.

*

When he arrived at his appropriate height, he stared forward, then up.

"Sir, may I?"

I nodded. He reached up and gently lowered my jeans.

My cock bounced free; this morning's chat, had firmed me nicely.

"Sir, you have a beautiful cock," he said, as if on auto pilot.

I glanced down and saw that he himself was rock hard, and dripping with pre-cum.

I didn’t expect he would be stupid enough to touch himself, he'd moved past that.

With a wide-open jaw, he took a third of my length. He closed his lips around my meat as we both moved closer to heaven. His mouth was a joy to my cock. I placed my hands on his head and let them flow back and forward with the rhythm and depth he set.

Oddly, I found myself thinking I'd have to get around to doing something with his hair. It was un-boy like.

I regained focus, as my cock began to press to the top of his throat. He was pushing himself to take me deeper. I'd already decided, I was going to let him set the pace of his development, there was no rush. For longer and longer moments, he was holding me as deep as he could. It was causing him to gag a little, but not too severe. None the less, it had a nice effect on my cock head. I grew harder, I knew I'd be cumming shortly.

I firmed my grip on his head, alerting him to my pending load. He held still, vacuuming my knob. I released, grunting and groaning in pure pleasure. Again, my cum dripped out the sides of his mouth.

*

When the twins arrived through the door, I was leaning back against the bench. dick still out and wet. Steve had remained in place, licking his lips.

The boys looked us up and down, then assumed Display, to await instruction.

It was good they didn't presume to speak.

They were dressed in some old board shorts that fitted them years ago. Jane and I had pulled them aside as we cleared their wardrobes last night. They were way too tight, which was the point. They had their new work-style camel-colored boots and white socks. I liked the look.

"You can lose the tee shirts," I directed, as I hitched my jeans, and motioned for Steve to stand.

"You can put your shorts back on," I directed Steve, "don’t make the same mistake of wearing briefs though. Not unless you want another ball beating."

"Yes sir, sorry sir," he replied, now understanding where the torture had come from.

"Sir, said Chris, Ma'am said we would be needing our collars, even though we were out of the house, she said to ask you."

I hadn’t thought about it, but it made sense.

"Yes boy, leave them on." I confirmed. "Let’s go," I instructed, as I glanced at the clock. 10.02.

"Steve, you’ll be driving."

"Yes sir.

*

As we pulled into the car park, I let Steve make a call on where to settle. Three minutes later, the four of us were standing in the aisles of the largest fetish and kink warehouse in the state. The rich smell of leather hung heavy in the air. I looked up towards the signage, indicating the different product ranges.

"Our appointment with a Fitter is at eleven fifteen." I informed, after I pulled to a stop in front of the collars. "In the meantime, let's get your throats sorted." 

 The range of options were astonishingly huge. We could have gone for three-pound metal, through to pathetic string like creations. In the end I chose an inch wide black leather, with a neat chrome buckle. The stitching and softness were excellent.

"These are your 'everyday' collars, for around the house, that type of thing."  I said. The three of them were admiring themselves in the nearby mirrors.

"Thank you, sir," they chorused.

I chose three more, similar in style, but with colored edging and occasional metal inserts.

"These are for when you're on public show, they're like your best wear." They nodded.  

Lastly, I grabbed three utilitarian units. Plain, thicker leather, two inches tall with equally plain buckles. "These last ones are for your grunt work," I informed, deciding not to explain. They left their first ones in place as we moved on.

As we sat in an upstairs area, waiting for our Fitter appointment, I mentally reviewed what we'd covered. The boys had three collars and a leash, two pairs of leather short shorts and a set of chest straps. I was impressed with our efficiency. We just had to get their wrist and ankle bands.

*

"Simon?" a woman arriving at the top of the stairs asked.

"Yes" I acknowledged.

"Great to meet you, I’m Janette. I'll be fitting your units here today."

She was a beautiful, large busted woman. The boys would be embarrassed, I smiled to myself.

"Thank you," I replied, "I haven't done this for many years, I appreciate your help."

"Not at all, the world of accessorising Fuck Toys hasn’t changed much since the Romans," she declared with fantastic bluntness, I like her already.  She welcomed us into what looked like a more exclusive showroom.

"Ok, your Units can put their clothing over there," she pointed to the floor near the wall.

I nodded to the boys who immediately began stripping.

"They can leave their collars on; you've made good choices."

"Now if they could line up across here, we'll get started," the boys moved as directed and stood in firm Displays. I was pleased.

"Right, well they're all under-cooked as far as package size goes, aren't they."

"They're subs, what are you going to do," I lamented as she nodded.

"All new to cock cages?" she asked, I nodded.

"Ok, in that case, let's start with plastic, and have you move to metal as soon as you can."

"Sounds good." I agreed.

She started with Chris, calling him forward then manhandling his cock and balls to get the sizing right. As could be expected, he started to stiffen.

She quickly pinched the base of his balls, causing him to yelp.

"Stay soft boy, or I’ll crush your nuts."

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am," he pleaded in full panic.

Seven minutes later he was fully encased in plastic, his future metal cage in his left hand.

Sam, and finally Steve followed the same path.

Next, she fitted them with what could be best described, as hardened leather, cod pieces. Strapped on with American jock elastic banding, they left the arse bare.

"I've chosen the cod size to match their packages," she informed, "as you can see, it emphasises how small these guys are, in the junk department. These are good for wearing in public, where you need to demonstrate you absolutely own these units."

I nodded; she had an excellent eye.   

"The last thing we need to cover is your requested butt plugs, and oral gear."

I nodded, as we moved to the plugs on display at the end of the room.

She had the guys wait in what she called 'quiet pods', while she privately detailed to me the features and benefits. Via some intense discussion, I think we settled on the models that were best going to deliver the needed outcomes. Either way, I’d know pretty quickly the results.

Calling the guys out of the silenced pods I had them arrange themselves as directed.

As each adopted a wide stance, and bent at the waist. Janette moved along behind, and with a gloved finger, entered each arse hole presented. Clearly uncomfortable, the boys did the best they could, while being finger fucked. She called out the measure for each. As expected, Chris and Sam were the same length.

*

“When it comes to butt plugs, or didoes,” I explained, as Steve returned us to the house, “you never use any that are bigger than your thumb. Stretching your arse is your owners’ privilege, you have zero say.”

Back in the garage, I had them lay out all their gear.

“This gear is all yours, take care of it. You paid for it,” I informed. “I’ll take a little from your allowances, until you’re in credit.” They all nodded.

In the last week, we had set up for Steve’s pay to be credited to an account he had no access to. It was important that he was constantly poor, just like the twins, just like all subs.

“Now Steve, you can do as you want with being caged. Your future owner, probably won’t be too flexible.”

“You pair will stay locked until next Sunday,” I said, facing Chris and Sam.

“I will be too, Sir,” declared Steve, jumping in.

“Good boy.” I praised. “I’ll hold all three keys then.”

“So, you have your plugs.” I gestured, “They stay in 24/7, except when you need to go, are showering, etc. They’ll get your arse used of being expanded.”

They nodded, each holding up their black three-inch-long partially bulged invader.

“Sir, these aren’t even as thick as out thumbs.” Chris quizzed.

“You’ll build up over time, but not too big,” I ordered. “Get your lube, load up now.”

They set about inserting their expanders. It was great to watch. 

What they didn’t know, was that each was a custom length. Each tip would come to rest on, or next to their prostrate. The act of walking, bending or even moving on a chair was going to stimulate.

“The last thing is your ball gag or throat trainer.” I said, leaning across to hold up Sam’s. “I know you’re desperate to learn head, but these will make your throats sore, so sore you’ll hardly be able to swallow.”

“I want your word, you won’t use them more than three times a week, for the first little while.”

They all pledged.

*

“You better get going Steve,” I suggested, you have dirty work to do.

I watched him leave, his arms full of gear. he walked back to the car in just his cage and boots. He was coming along nicely.

The twins stood nearby, holding their now usual Display. I widened their feet.

“Sir,” Sam asked, as the door sealed shut. “May we suck you?”

“We know we’re moving away from, just being your children,” added Chris, looking at Sam, “we feel it more and more, we’re getting dumber.”

“Describe that.” I directed, interested.

“We just think about being used, serving men, being owned subs,” Sam started, “I mean all the time!”

“No other topics matter anymore,” continued Chris, “our brains are shrinking.”

“They’re not shrinking,” I corrected, “they’re just re-ordering, shutting down what’s not important.”

“The reason subs get dumber, is they end up with only a narrow part of their minds being useful.”

“But, it’s the parts that really matter,” I assured, “the parts related to, being the best fuck toys, for example.”

I pressed both of them to the floor.

“You know what rimming is boy?” I asked Sam.

“Yes sir, yes sir, may I?” I nodded as he sprang to life, scooting behind me, getting to work.

I took Chris’s head in my hands and pressed my cock to his begging mouth.

I was in heaven from both sides.