Sub encounter: Plumber

On Wednesday, as I was leaving for work, Jane arrived home from the airport. She looked refreshed, and tired at the same time. The flight home, must have been its usual ordeal. I gave her a peck on the cheek and looked to exit.

"Just a heads up, Steve staying in James's old room. I'll talk about it later." she nodded, seemingly unconcerned, "he's already, left for work," more nods.

As I walked up the driveway, James emerged from the side.

“Was that mum coming home?" he asked.

"Just got in, pretty exhausted," I replied.

"Is Steve staying here?" he nodded towards the space, Steve's van had occupied, off and on since Monday.

"Yeah, tell you more about it soon," I confirmed, "do you and the boys want to come up for dinner Friday night?" He paused for a moment.

"Can't do Friday, Saturday?" he offered as an alternate.

"Sounds good," I replied.

He departed, as I went to catch my train.

* * *

Steve had arrived back at the house, on Monday afternoon as directed. He hadn't taken much more than half an hour to pack up, and leave the share house. When he stood at the kitchen door, he carried a single duffel bag.

"Is that all your stuff?" I asked, without a tone of judgement. He nodded it was.

"Good," I continued, "get spread out in James's old room upstairs.”

“You'll need to make up his bed.” I continued, “when you've got yourself settled, let's chat.”

He nodded, and made his way upstairs.

I'd calmed down, compared to my response at the house. I reflected it was probably the shock of seeing his living conditions. I was angry at myself. I was glad I’d taken the day off, to check on him.

He arrived back in the kitchen fifteen minutes later. I nodded towards the kettle. "You wanna make two teas? or one, and a soda?" He fussed around, then made his way to the table with a teacup, and an aluminum can.

"Any ideas on why I'm so tense?" I asked, to judge his mental state.

"I guess you think I was living like a homeless guy," he suggested, as a good start.

"And?" I prompted

"And, why did I need to live that way, when I'm not spending all of my allowance? he continued nervously, but essentially nailing it.

"Very good," I praised. "Now, do you want to explain what the fuck is going on?"

"I thought to be the best sub I could, I needed to save the most amount of money." He started, "so the rest could go back to you."

"It doesn't work that way," I said firmly, “it’s never going to work that way.”

"I want you to listen carefully," I paused, making sure I had his attention.

"The money you earn is yours, you will pay normal rent here, like a normal renter,” he watched me carefully.

"The allowance you are not spending, is simply building up for you to spend in the future."

"But, sir," he started.

"There is no, but!" I pushed back, with aggression.

"Let’s work and example.” I prompted, after taking a breath. “How many casual T shirts do you have?"

"One," he replied, sheepishly.

"The worn out one you were wearing Saturday?" I asked, he nodded. "The gym shorts, they're your only pair?" again, a nod to confirm.

"OK, this afternoon you go to Hallmart, and get yourself three new sets of casual gear."

He left around 3:00. I hoped we were putting this bullshit behind us. We'd see.

* * *

He arrived back at the house ninety minutes later. I was instantly suspicious over how quick his trip had been. I had him model everything he’d purchased. As he did, I separated it into two piles.

“This you keep, this you take back and get better quality.” I instructed.

We were going to get this right.

“Go and get me your work boots.” I directed, deciding ‘in for a penny’. When he produced them, they were in their last days.

“Ok, a new pair of work boots, two new work shorts, and four new shirts.” He nodded cautiously.

“Sir, Hallmart doesn’t sell the work gear brand.” He informed.

“So, go to the place that does, don’t worry about getting the shorts taken in, but get the hems folded up like your other pairs.” I explained simply.

I read his response, and suddenly decided we needed to go even further.

“While you’re in that part of town, get a new phone. Mid or high end, no base model shit!” I paused, watching the surprise flash underneath his lip biting expression. “Lastly, go to the kink shop, and buy something.” His eyes widened.

“Are you getting the message yet?” I asked.

“Yes sir, sorry about all this sir,” he apologised.

“Good, see you when you get back.”

* * *

Steve didn't arrive home until after 6:30. The shops were open till nine, so there was no danger he would run out of time. When he arrived at the door, he actually had armfuls of new gear. I'd been taken seriously. I followed him upstairs as Jane prepared dinner. I had him dress in each item. He had made some excellent choices; he could keep everything.

"What do you think of your new work gear?" I asked, as I inspected the raised hem stitching.

"I think the guys will have a field day, laughing at my new duds, happens every time somebody comes in with new kit." He half smiled.

When he got to his phone, I realised he had bought the top end, not crazy top, but still excellent.

"Maybe best, to keep that out of sight, for the time," he nodded in understanding.

I looked at the box that had clearly come from the kink store. I was curious, but I let him open it, at his own pace. What he pulled from its luxurious cloth sleeve, was a leather vest. His choice surprised me, but when he tried it on, it looked genuinely amazing.  It fitted him perfectly! Given that leather is always unjustifiably expensive, I mentally calculated, it would have cost hundreds.

For a second, I contemplated he may actually be able to save himself.

"I also got something else," he said, coyly, "but can I show you that down the track?"

"Sure, you've done well this time," I praised, "sit for a minute," I suggested, patting the bed beside me.

"I hope this experience is letting you adjust. Adjust to what being a sub means," I started, quietly.

"It's not about having nothing, and it's not about being worth nothing. It's about being true to your nature."

He looked up, took a breath, then burst into tears. I rested a hand on his shoulder, and let him get it out of his system. Ten minutes later, he was mostly through it. I hugged him, he cried a little more.

When he was done, I stood and retrieved a damp wash cloth, from the bathroom next door. He wiped his face and regrouped.

"I feel so dumb Sir," he muttered, "you've never once said, I should have nothing."

"Well, recognising you’re dumb as a post, is being true to yourself on some level, I suppose." I paused, "But honoring your nature to serve the men around you, has nothing to do with sleeping in dirt."

"On the weekend you'll get your arse paddled, just to lock in the lesson.”

“Thank you sir, I will take that.” 

* * *

The next day at work, I was shocked over how horny I was. I had been getting my lunch at the café downstairs, when the cute server bent over to pick up a front door delivery. Holy fuck! The guy had buns he could sell any day of the week! I smiled inside, then found myself firming rapidly. By the time my sandwich arrived, I was steel hard.

Annoyingly, I couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the afternoon. I decided I’d call it early quits, and made my way home.

As I walked down the driveway around four, I heard, then saw Steve’s van making its way in. I paused in the garage and waited for him to park, then unload himself. He was moving freely, clearly his arse had recovered. When he stepped out, he’d had a filthy day.

He was covered in grime, dirt and ash, from bottom to top. So much for his new gear, I thought.

I took a good look at his new shorts as he locked up and made his way towards me. They outlined his thighs, his crutch and his fat free waist perfectly! In keeping with the rest of the day, I instantly threw a boner. A boner from hard-on city itself!

As he arrived in the garage, I realised despite his state, he seemed quite bright. His day hadn’t been the one of heavy labor I had summised.

“Lose your gear, and get on my cock,” I instructed, even before I said hello. He dropped his lunch pail, and lowered himself without a second thought.

After initially getting my meat wet, I power fucked his throat. Drool, slobber and mucus added to the general mess he was in. I didn’t give a shit, I was horny.

When I was beside myself with head sensation, I pulled out, grabbed him by the ear and dragged him towards the work bench. He discarded the last of his clothing, he hadn’t been able to lose before I throat fucked him.

While he got himself arranged, I grabbed the linseed oil can, I found nearby and, poured it over the top of his arse. I plunged in, and started fucking him wildly. What the fuck had gotten into me? I needed to get my balls emptied as quickly as I could!

I looked down at his filthy and dirty state. Seeing him as he should be, I fucked him harder.

Seven minutes in I knew I was going to blow. I had every intention of taking my time but, fuck that! I just needed to load his hole, and get on.  My dick twitched, once, twice, then released a glorious stream of seed.

* * *

 I pulled out, and went inside, without a word, he’d organise himself. He may even shut the garage front roller door, I smiled.

I took a long luxurious shower, amazingly pleased with myself. I noticed the water flow dropped slightly. Steve must have been showering downstairs in the garage washroom.

When I had dried and unwound, I realised I was hungry. I finally made my way downstairs.

A freshly polished Steve, dressed in just his collar, was vacuuming the lounge. As I opened the fridge, I saw a list of chores with his name at the top. It was good he was making a start. I wondered if I should get him a tiny white short skirt to wear? I’d leave that for another day.

I kicked back with a beer, turned on the TV and saw that Colorado had won another game.

*

The next day was Friday. Originally, I had expected James and the twins to join us for dinner, but it had been pushed by a day.

I found myself at a loss. I had planned to join the guys from work for a few quiet beers on Saturday night. That would have to wait.

Steve arrived home around seven, he had stayed back at his work, having his own quiet beers. As I had already eaten, I decided I'd sit and catch a movie. When it wrapped up, I made my way upstairs, planning to sleep.

Steve had taken to leaving his door open all the time, which was fine, I didn't care one way or the other. As I walked past, I saw he was lying face down, head on his pillow. I did a U turn, arrived in his room, lubed up, and lay down beside him. He stirred and looked around, saw what was happening, and raised his arse up a little higher. I pushed in.

As far as fucks went, it wasn't the epic one of Tuesday past. This was a more run of the mill, get my nuts off, then go to bed affair. As I walked to my room, my balls one load lighter, I smiled that having him living here might work out alright. Jane wouldn't care about me fucking him, she experienced my use of subs at uni first hand. I contemplated that nothing had changed in twenty years. Was I getting hard again?

* * *

Dinner the next evening was a little weird. Not because three of the guys sitting at the table, were naked and collared, with their cocks encased in metal. It was more that it was like catching up with family you hadn’t seen in a while. Weird, because they just lived downstairs.

After dinner, James and I sat in the lounge to catch at least part of the game.

“So, how many hours a week are the boys spending in their Depriv Units?” I asked, curious.

“It’s reducing, all of the time,” James answered. I glanced across to the left, where the twins were kneeling, awaiting any instruction they might be given.

“They’re becoming really attentive, I fuck one on one day, the other the next. But, they’re always up for toe sucking, or a rim job.”

“One of the best fucken decisions I’ve made. My balls are always empty.” He laughed; it was good to see him happy.

“Are they still going out and seeing their friends?” I asked.

“Yeah, it keeps them fresh, you know, stimulated.” He replied.

“They did well at work last night,” he continued.

“What do you mean?”

“I told you about the pussy boy we had at work, Sebastian,” he added.

“Yeah, I remember,” I confirmed, “what about him?”

“Well, he’s gone back home, back to uni,” he informed. “It’s been a real shock to the guys, they’ve had to empty their own balls,” he laughed, I smiled with him.

“Anyway, I took this pair in last night, as a treat for the teams,” he paused, “head jobs all round, actually, multiple head jobs all round,” he grinned.

“Just head?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I suspect it will progress to fucking, as the crew get used of the boys.”

“So, you doing this out of the goodness of your own heart?” I asked.

“What do you think?” he replied, knowing instantly where I was coming from.

“The crew tossed $20 each into the pot last night, for each head they took.”

“So,” I mentally calculated, “eight on the crew, less you, so $280 bucks?”

“Three hundred round, actually, Dave went in for three!” he grinned, “he was fucken horny!”

“Isn’t $20 too cheap for head?” I asked, “especially head as good as this pair give?”

“Yeah, but we’re just starting out,” he paused, “you need to give it some time.”

“They easily did seven each, last night over two hours,” he said, “well, C1 did eight. But you get the point.”

“I’m thinking if we set it up properly, they could do maybe twenty each, over a five or six hour shift.”

“You’ll work it out,” I assured, letting him know I had faith.