Date: Thu, 26 May 2005 12:09:55 -0700 (PDT) From: Tracy Subject: New Neighbor Part 1 It was late spring. My next-door neighbor's house had been on the market for about four months. It finally sold and on a warm late May Saturday the new family was moving in. I banged on the door to welcome them and asked if there was anything they needed. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and introductions. There were just the three of them -- Paul, his wife Linda, and their son Joe. I later learned that Paul was my age, thirty-six, and Joe was seventeen. I never heard Linda's age but I assume she is about the same age as Paul. I reiterated that they should let me know if they needed anything, said good-bye and was on my way. A week later Paul had his garage door open and was organizing the post-move chaos. I was just puttering around in my garage so I popped in to say hello. From the moment I saw Paul a week earlier as he was moving in, I felt drawn to him. At 6' 5" he towered over my 5' 8". It was obvious he had an incredible build even though he was fully dressed. His shirt couldn't hide his powerful chest. And his massive biceps were on display in his short sleeves. He is exceptionally handsome in a rugged way and the five o'clock shadow of his heavy beard looked great on him. While we talked, I gave him a hand with his project. I'd open boxes, Paul would tell me where the contents belonged and I would lug them to their assigned location. Paul was quite the task master. It turned out to be a pretty good work out, better than I typically get at the gym. After several hours the garage was in tip top condition. I was beat, said good bye and went home. Even though I was tired out, I enjoyed the day. Being a closet submissive, I enjoy helping out a man like Paul. As spring turned to summer, Paul spent a lot of time in his garage. Linda worked an odd shift at the hospital, noon to 9:00 PM Wednesday through Sunday, so I seldom saw her. Paul was restoring an old Mustang he recently bought so I had a lot of opportunities to hang with him. It made me feel good just to be in his presence and I started shunning other social contact just to spend more time with him. As the weather got warmer, Paul wore less clothing. He typically wore wife beaters which showed off his incredible arms and hairy pits. His forearms are huge and his biceps have to be twenty-three inches when he flexes. When it got really warm he would wear shorts and lose his shirt completely. He is proud of his body as well he should be. His chest is massive with the most remarkable pectoral muscles I've ever seen outside a Mr. America contest. He has perfect six- pack abs and about a thirty-two inch waist. He doesn't appear to carry an ounce of fat on his perfect virile body. His mighty calves are bigger around than most men's thighs and his thighs are like massively muscled tree trunks. Finally, he has plenty of masculine body hair in all the right places. He is magnificent and knows it. As I spent more time with Paul he became more domineering towards me. At first it was just simple orders like retrieve a tool or pick up a dropped bolt. As I became more obedient, it progressed. Go inside and get him a glass of water, go home and fix him a meal or go to the auto parts store. There was never a hint that I had any choice. It was tacitly understood that I would obey. Even when his son, Joe, was hanging out with us, it was me he gave the orders to. I got the feeling Paul was teaching Joe to be dominant like his dad. I noticed Joe would get an amused smirk on his face when he observed me submissively carrying out his father's orders. One time I had to retrieve a tool on the bottom shelf of a cabinet Joe was leaning against. Not only did Joe make me reach around him, while I was down there he rubbed the bottom of his bare foot on my face. While all this was humiliating, it was worth it to be able to spend time with Paul. One night when he was finishing up, Paul told me to go inside and get beers for him and Joe. He didn't offer me one. I went inside and got two beers and took them out to the garage. I opened them up, handed one to Paul and one to a smirking Joe. Neither one said thanks. While they were drinking their beers, Paul told me to sweep the floor which, of course, I did. When I went home that night, I took some time to think about what I was becoming. I realized that I was being openly submissive around Paul and his son. I had always been careful to hide my submissive inclination but realized that around Paul I couldn't help myself. I was incapable of resisting Paul's power over me. Further, I recognized that submitting to him made me feel better about myself than I ever had before. The next day I was back for more. Paul was working on the car and I was mostly watching and waiting for orders. Paul told me to hold a hose in place while he attached the clamp. I had to lean in to hold it. When he reached across me to grab a tool, his hairy armpit rubbed across my face leaving it wet. He could have avoided my face if he wanted to, but he just got a chuckle from my degradation. We both were aware that I could have moved my head to avoid his armpit but I didn't. I went the rest of the day with the smell of his armpit on my face. I was actually thrilled to have had my face in his sweaty armpit. The following Saturday we were working on the engine again. About mid- afternoon, Paul told me to fetch a bucket. I couldn't find one in Paul's garage so I got one out of mine. I brought it back and tried to hand it to him. "Just hold on to it." He instructed. So I did, not knowing why. "Lower." He commanded. I did as I was told. Then he unzipped his shorts, pulled out his cock and started pissing in the bucket while I held it for him. I was stunned. I had never seen his cock. Even though it was not hard, I could tell it was very sizable. I was mesmerized watching the piss pour out of his beefy tool. I took deep breaths as the manly smell wafted out of the bucket I was holding. When he was finished pissing he just shook off splashing a couple drops on my hand, stuffed himself back in his pants and returned to his work without saying a word. I dutifully carried his urine to the bathroom and disposed of it, licked the drips off my hand and returned to the garage to wait for my next debasement. When I went over Sunday, Paul confronted me. "Don't you think it's time we stopped playing games?" "What do you mean?" I innocently asked, knowing what he was talking about but not wanting to admit it to myself and especially not to him. "Do you think I don't recognize the lust in your eyes when you look at me? It's pretty obvious from the way you jump when I give you an order that you enjoy submitting to the will of a dominant man." He continued, "You know, men like me were put on earth to dominate other men. Look at me. I'm superior to most men." He said. He lifted his right arm and flexed. His bicep grew to a massive boulder. "Feel it." He commanded. I wrapped both of my hands around his glorious mass of muscle, rubbing back and forth, admiring his godlike strength. "It's awesome." I breathlessly said without thinking. "Boys like you were put on earth to serve men like me. I think you know that. That's why you have been so eager to take orders from me. A man would never have let me rub his face in my armpit the way you did. A man wouldn't hold a bucket for another man to piss in like you did yesterday." I hung my head in shame. "I knew the day we met that you were a cocksucker." He reached out, took my chin in his hand, made me look in his eyes and said, "Now I'm going to ask you a question and you're going to give me an honest answer. Wouldn't you be more comfortable right now kneeling at my feet worshiping me as your master?" I was suddenly very frightened. I had spent my entire adult life hiding the fact that I was gay and submissive. This powerful man standing before me knew me better than anyone else in my life, possibly better than I knew myself. I had always known something was missing in my life. I had been fascinated for years with submission and consensual slavery and knew I desired that life but never really considered addressing that need. I had a good life masquerading as a straight man...and as a man. I had a high paying job as a senior analyst for a major bank in Columbus and was respected by my peers. But here I was, confronted by this dominant man who recognized my real purpose in life. He was right. I had felt it my entire life. My purpose in life is to serve powerful men. I decided to do the right thing. In a quiet voice, I answered him. "Yes." "Yes what?" "Yes Sir." I said correcting myself. "Then why don't you do it." He calmly said. I dropped to my knees. I looked up at his handsome face and immediately felt a sense of calm that had heretofore eluded me. I knew that this was where I belonged and I felt at peace. "What do you want to do now boy?" He asked. I thought a second and answered, "Kiss your feet Sir." "Good answer. Get your face down there and show your master some respect." I got down on the floor and reverently kissed his feet. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. "Why don't we go inside and talk." He said. "Better yet, we'll go to your place." I got up off the floor and followed my Master out the door to my house and to my new life. Working on the next part. Comments and suggestions welcome: cmhsub@yahoo.com Yahoo IM: cmhsub