Handy Handy Men

James arrives 
His story Part one of one

James came on board, a fortnight after we placed the advert. He'd previously been working as a subcontractor, and said he was tired of the unreliable income. At thirty-six, he'd been in building since he was sixteen, starting as an apprentice himself.

The work clearly suited him, he had retained a fat free physique. His muscled build, wasn't anything like Josh or Jamie, but it did betray his daily need to lift and work with heavy loads. 

For the first week, I worked side by side with him. After we got him uniformed, we labored every day, on-site. I made sure he got to see the entire portfolio of jobs we had running. As a key part of the team, I had to know how he ticked, I also wanted him to get to know me.

He was quiet and more contemplative than I initially expected. Whereas Jamie, and occasionally Josh could talk someone’s ear off. James seemed content to observe, then offer commentary.

He was firm with the men, his air of authority giving them confidence, he knew what he was doing.

He was going to fit right in. 

The last day of his first week, I had his 'to be' apprentices attend the site we visited. While working, the trio spent the better part of their eight hours exchanging information. Initially, work was the only topic discussed. When this waned, personal details and questions began to dot the conversation. I tended to stay out of the way, none of them were going to have me, nearby every day.

In week two, as Josh and Jamie prepared to begin their new roles, I wanted to mark the event, as an important point in their life journey. I asked them to come into the office first thing. 

As they stood loosely in front of myself, James, Jarrod and Chris. I told them to lose their polos.

They did, showing off their heavily bulked frames, and their sensational six packs. I stepped forward and congratulated each with a firm handshake. As I did, I passed them a new shirt.

They held it up, scanning the fronts. For anyone casually looking, everything appeared to be the same as their former uniform. The only actual change, was the small italic text, which sat below their names.

'Apprentice', it stated simply. As I had expected, it made all the difference. They examined the word as if it was an optical illusion. Then they dragged the shirts down, nodding in acknowledgement of the effort, and wordlessly declaring they fitted the roles.

*

It was time for them to get on with their week. They looked at James.

"You boys can head over to Bowdens and pick up the timber," he said. "I'll see you on site."

"Thanks Boss," they acknowledged, as they turned and made their way down stairs." 

Jarrod and Chris followed them out, closing the door behind them.          

I looked to see James studying me.

“You’re Head of Building,” I said, easily. “You may as well speak to me plainly.”

I watched as he drew breath.

"If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say you have those boys ball banded."

"What would give you that impression?" I asked, curious.

“I assume they’re not carrying their lunches down their shorts,” he smiled.

I grinned back, but didn’t give him anything to work with.

"They hero worship you," he continued, "but, with an interaction of disciplined structure."

"They know their place," he added, “hence, I suspect their banded.”

I stood and went to the door.

"Jarrod, can you ask the J-bros to come back up here." He nodded, and trotted towards the stairs.

We waited in an easy silence.

Four minutes later Jamie, then Josh returned, shutting the door behind them.

They looked at me wondering what was up.

"Given how close you’ll be working with James, I'm going to be upfront," I said with care. "This knowledge circle though, won't be getting any bigger." I added.

"Display," I commanded.

They instantly stripped and stood rock solid. Zero hesitation or concern.

I moved before them, and took their balls in hand.

"Whos?"

"Yours Sir, they chorused.

“For how long?”

“Until you hand them back Sir,” answered Josh, speaking for both of them.

“And we fuck?”

“All the time Sir,” chipped in Jamie.

"Very good," I praised, dropping their nuts. "Ok, back to it."  

They pulled up their short shorts, and made their way back to finish loading.

I was happy that the event was so inconsequential, to them.

As the door closed behind them, I stayed in place, resting on the desk

“Impressive,” James complemented. “You own them?”

“For all intent and purpose, yes,” I responded, “there’s a lengthy back story.”

“Usually is,” he replied, sanguine.  

“So, given banding is relatively rare, what’s your exposure?” I asked.

He stood straighter, I wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

Then, hooking his thumbs into his shorts, he pushed them to his ankles, collecting his briefs on the way.

I took in the view. He pulled his polo over his head, then stepped out of his shorts properly.

He had his own six pack. Not as defined as the boys, but real and present.

He stood in a wide stance Display. His ball sack banded in what looked like a rough, home-made steel loop. It had a weird lock, partially embedded into the front.

I reached forward and took his nuts in hand. He didn’t flinch. He was used of this type of handling.

I was conscious, that what happened next was going to alter our relationship.

I realized, having his balls in my palm, had already done that.

I stood and pushed my own jeans to my thighs.

“Get to work Boy,” I commanded, as I sat back to the desk.

He got to his knees, considered my thickening cock for a moment, then went to work.

He was skilled, moving to deep throat, within a minute of working my meat.

I noted him tweaking his own cock, as he sucked on mine.

I nudged his hand away with my booted foot.

I rested the toe of my steel cap, against the base of his banded sack.  

“You don’t touch yourself Boy.” I directed, “I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot.”

“Yes Sir,” he vocalized, muffled around my meat, dropping his hands.

Within minutes I was ready to blow, an unexpected start to the week. Not that I was complaining.

As I neared, I held his head, letting him know what was coming, literally. I blew, he swallowed.

As I regained composure, he stayed in place on his knees.

“Suit up,” I directed, as I stood and moved to sit behind the desk.

He redressed, then stood at a reasonable Display.

“Finish your day by five thirty,” I directed, “we’ll catch a meal at the pub.”

“Will I be returning home after the meal Sir?” he asked.

“Your home, yes.”

He left to get on with it.

*

Well, that was unexpected, I considered, as I reclined. Not unmanageable, but definitely left of center. 

My entire Building Division were ball ringed! Sounded like some gay porn writer’s fiction pulp. I smiled to myself, shelved the event, and turned to face the shift.

Why the fuck was there an Account Warning flashing in the banking app?

Within half an hour, the day’s plans had been turned on their heads.

When I managed to stabilise the situation, I dispatched Jarrod and Chris, cash in hand.

They attended every worksite, sat with every employee.

*

As I rested at the pub table, I contemplated the past eight hours. I didn’t want to repeat that, I decided.

The dining area was quiet, but it was only five thirty, so to be expected.

I had arrived early, wanting some alone time.

What to think about James and his ringed balls? I pondered.

I decided, if nothing else, it would be a welcome distraction.

Ten minutes later the man arrived.

“Sir,” he greeted.

“Let’s stick with Boss,” I suggested, “except for when you’re in full Boy mode.”

He nodded, as I gestured towards the seat.

Beers in hand, and snacks on the way, I got down to business.

“Banded?” I simply questioned. He nodded, I stayed quiet.

“Back when I was in business for myself, I was contracted to build a house, out near the university.”

“Nice part of town,” I suggested. He agreed.

“Anyway, I fucked up the foundations,” he continued, “it was the engineer really, but as head contractor, it fell on me.”

I nodded, following.

“I was headed down, going to lose the business without question. Would probably lose my license, and home.”

“For failed foundations?” I quizzed.

“Against the build value,” he clarified. That would do it, I thought.

“Desperate,” he continued, “I met with the client.”

“He laid it out, brutally!” he declared.

“He took full business ownership, then debt loaded me to my max credit.”

“I was fucked, and would be for years!”

I nodded, encouraging him to keep going.

“Then he pulls out a band, explains my future.”

“At the time I couldn’t believe it, but everything he predicted, has unfolded.”

“So, he owns your nuts?” I asked.

“Just as you described for your boys, he may as well own all of me.” He paused, “but yes, at its base, he owns these.” He gestured down towards his crutch.

“The business?” I asked.

“He closed it down within nine months, unprofitable.”

“Just last year, I finally cleared the debt,” he finished.

“How long have you been ringed?” I asked.

“Seven years,” he replied. “No sunset,” he added, answering what was my next question; if he was ever going to have his orbs back.

“Having him in control, seems so normal now.” He continued,

“Can I tell you the truth?” he asked, almost rhetorically, I nodded, “I take a fair bit of comfort from it.”

I looked at him quizzically.

“I’m not that smart, he helps me make better decisions.”

“And he fucks you?” I dived in.

“Not so much now, but daily at the start,” he put his head down, “almost lost the wife over it.”

“So, you’re straight?”

He nodded.

“Never so much as, jacked-off with mates in my teenage years.”

“So why has the fucking reduced, you’re still trim?”

“I’m not allowed to be more than ninety kilograms, unless it’s all muscle,” he advised, explaining his six-pack.

“But, my owner is older. In the last few years his health is deteriorating.” He hung his head, “I have my instructions.”

“Instructions?” I asked, curious, “what do you mean?”

“My owner is never going to hand me back my balls. He’s told me so.”

I was transfixed.

“I have to find a new owner,” he said simply, before locking eyes with me.

“You’re the first Boy owner, I’ve found in fifteen months of hard looking,” he declared.

“Ok,” I replied, cautiously, “and?”

He visibly took a deep breath.

“Will you take me on?” he asked, “as my owner.”

My turn to get some air.

“You showed me how you operate,” he said, “I know my boss will be relieved to hand me to you.”

Our snacks arrived, thank fuck for that!

*

“Let me ask some questions,” I stalled, while I got my brain into action.

“Do you want to be owned?” I asked.

“Not a choice I have.” He responded.

“You know that I am an ‘active’ owner?”

“Yes Sir,” he replied, “I would gain from that,” he assured.

“So, your wife is on board?”

“Truth is Sir,” he continued, “since we’ve had two sons, we don’t have sex often. Maybe once, twice a year.”

“We’re ‘in trust’ now, more than ‘in love’,” he advised, without any emotional drama. It was good to see.

I almost asked if the sons were his, or his master’s, before catching my tongue.

“The wife occasionally goes out on the town, and fucks other guys.”

“It’s a good stress release for her, and me.” He added.

“Ok,” I declared, “let me give it some thought.”

He nodded, the topic closed.

Later we ate, talked shop, and generally spoke as if workmates.

It was a great stress relief for a shit day.

As we finished up, and made our way out to our trucks, I handed him my card with the house address penned on the back.

*

At three the next afternoon, James knocked on my front door.

He came in and immediately stripped. I showed him where to stow his gear and handed him one of Josh’s spare leather collars. It wasn’t such a tight fit, but it looked good.

When we arrived in the kitchen, I quickly set about getting his ‘Display’ perfect. He picked it up quickly, and knew I’d be holding him to account. It was actually a pleasure to deal with a mostly trained Boy. I wasn’t teaching him anything new, just the standards I expected.

I examined in depth, his rough arse ball band. If I took him on, he’d be upgraded within a week.

“How long since you’ve been fucked?” I asked bluntly.

“Many months Sir,” he responded.

“Ok, and you’ve prepped?”

“Yes Sir, just before I left to come here.”

“Good,” I praised. “When did you last jack-off?”

“Last week, Sir. I do my best to hold off ‘pleasuring myself’, as much as I can.”

“Well, you can dump that shit idea.” I corrected, “you can empty your balls, any time you want.” I added, “but, never with me, unless I tell you so.” He nodded.

That would be a hard mentality for him to adjust to. I didn’t really care, if he did or didn’t.

I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t fucked up in the head over basic male body functions.

Some Owners were weird.

We ran through some other staples, like never stretching his arse, or letting his body hair get beyond a #1 cut. I was confident he had it pretty well under control. It was looking like he was going to be an easy pick up.

“What’s your purpose?” I asked out of the blue, testing him.

“As a Boy, to be the best possible fuck for any real man that needs servicing,” he answered, without hesitation.

That hadn’t been learnt by rote, he believed it. Not a small feat for a straight man. I admired.

“And your needs when you’re doing this servicing?” I asked.

He studied me carefully.

“If I’m being used Sir,” he answered cautiously, “it’s about being the best hole I can be, nothing is about me.”

I nodded, it wasn’t a trap.

It was confirmation I was dealing with a fully trained sex unit, who knew his place.

I would be taking him on after all.

*

We moved upstairs to my bedroom.

With skill, he stripped, and worshiped me all the while. I wasn’t really into that, but it was something different.

I pushed him to all fours on the bed top, spreading his knees wide.

His hairless rosebud lay before me.

I placed my lubed knob at his hole and began to fuck my new toy.

He was right, he hadn’t been fucked in a long time. He was magnificently tight.

I pulled in and out to the halfway point, enjoying my dick skin being pulled and pushed.

He was vocal, I liked vocal.

I pushed all the way in, and rested in the deep. His body’s warmth nurtured my length.

I set about a comprehensive fuck. Filling his hole twenty minutes later.

*

As I recovered laying on the sheets, he reoriented himself to return to all fours. This time, he set about sucking my toes, then my feet, as he made his way up my body.

By the time he reached my cock, I was hard again. I had him get to his haunches and fuck himself on my pole. He was vocal again. Very nice.

*

We fucked more through the night, and twice more before he left at one in the afternoon the next day.

He’d be at work tomorrow. He didn’t need virgin recover time.

As we ate breakfast, I detailed the rules of engagement.

He was never to play with his apprentices. He was never to play in front of them.

Ultimately, I didn’t care if they found out he was banded, or even if I owned him. I just didn’t want any complicating factors, to fuck up any of them.

As he departed, I sent him the file I had recorded from the kitchen, when he had arrived yesterday.

“Show this to your Owner,” I directed.

“I’ll take you on, but you won’t have contact with him.”

“Thank you Sir, thank you!” he beamed, “you will have made him very happy.”

I nodded and closed the door.

On Tuesday the next week, I had a call from Edward, James’s Owner.

We talked lightly back and forth for a time. He was indeed, in poor health. He never said, but it was obvious. By the end of the call, James’s balls belonged to me.

On Wednesday afternoon, James made his own way to Hanks, and had two proper ball bands applied. When he returned later to show me. I rotated the top one, to magnetically engage the bottom. Now he had physical evidence he had a new owner.

We were off to a smooth start.