#construction worker

[d469son-daddyshelper2]

Daddy’s ‘free-ballin’ little helper… 😛

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Hypnotized some random jocks to come to my Halloween party...

[roughridingrednecks]

Woods in Florida

[dvlinside]

[shirtlessworking]

happy in his bulldozer

[skinheadworkie]

[flmanjax]

[d469son-daddyshelper2]

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Stealing 'em off the Jobsite

You're fed up! Those goddamn construction workers have been across the street for weeks now, and they haven't erected anything (aside from the pole in your pants). Your eyes have studied the collection of sweaty bodies each day, always sad when they pack up and leave.

It's determined. Tonight, things will change. Tonight, they'll be coming home with you...

All it takes is a glance at your newly acquired, hypnotic pocket watch: a family heirloom.

Your grandfather probably didn't think you'd be using his most powerful artifact for this, but he's not here to witness the control you exert over the crew. They may laugh at first, but their eyes quickly glaze over the second they actually look at the thing swinging overhead. Their grins falter as the tendons in their face slacken. They're relaxing, just like you commanded them to.

Suddenly, those big muscular men don't seem so cocky and masculine. Their typical swagger is replaced by something else; something more subdued, more bovine, dumb.

You did that to them. You caught them right before they left the job site and flashed that magical pocket watch in their faces. Now they all stand before you like a herd of dumb work animals. It's an unbelievable site: grown men that are reduced to loyal dogs, patiently awaiting the commands of their master. Who are you to keep them waiting?

You order them to follow...

They're good at following the instruction, even if it's just a simple one. The construction workers fumble down the street behind you, grunting and pushing their way past each other like a bunch of braindead zombies. You know they're tired. The sweat of a long day is soaking through most of their clothes, but you rather enjoy knowing how weak their big arms and meaty pecs have become.

Normally, men like this are rowdy and obnoxious, but right now their jaws only hang stupidly. The occasional moan can be heard deep in their throats, but more often comes the unmistakeable sound of gas from their rears. After all, you did tell them to relax, and that command seems to have loosened up their insides as well. More than a few wet farts can be heard in the crowd, but none of them react. Some of the noises are gross enough to suggest they've even shit themselves, not that filling their pants with crap will stop them from mindlessly following you home.

It's almost comical to see how oblivious they've become, but that blank look on their face is getting old. Their heavy slick bodies are hot, but so are their chauvinistic bro attitudes.

Finally at your house, you order them to grab a beer, smile, and file inside for the party...

Watching the crew of hardened laborers snap out of the trance is eclipsed only by the dumb smile that breaks on each of their masculine faces. Just like that, they're beaming at you, treating you like their best bud and slapping you on the back. Can you remember the last time you were at a party, let alone a party full of grizzled blue-collar workers?

Per your instructions, they haul the booze and speakers down the stairs into the basement. They're only too happy to help, and they get even more excited when you tell them to.

Their eyes pop open wider. Any fatigue from the long workday is replaced with a sudden urge to chug a beer and chest bump the guy next to them. The music is turned up louder than the growing volume of the men joking, laughing, and shit-talking with their gravelly bass and baritone voices.

The testosterone is almost unbearable. You can smell the thick funk of body odor mixing in the humid air. You can even taste the salt evaporating off their skin. But, even more exciting, you can feel any inch of them you want. Diving into the bodies packed tightly together, don't hesitate to touch, sniff, and lick anything you want. The men are lost in a euphoria of moving to the music. They only grin when they find you below, slobbering over their muscle tits or fondling their swollen packages.

They sure as hell wouldn't allow this if you hadn't hypnotized them first. You made them eager to accept an intrusive finger down the back of their work pants. With a little more coaching, they've become even more comfortable around their master...

Your wish is their command, so they relax into each other's arms when you tell them to. They've already been told to relax so much that it hardly takes any effort. Before you know it, the men's bodies are being pulled in close embraces with casual smirks. These macho builders don't mind their colleagues getting all up in their personal space, no matter how intimate it gets.

The first pair brave enough to obey seems happy they did so. The hug turns into a more aggressive groping until the larger of the two rips off his partner's ratty old tank top.

This party's starting to look more like an orgy...

The men are happy with this new direction, mostly because you told them to be. Some of them partner up, greedily grabbing their closest bro at work. It's hard to imagine these guys were ever a platonic, straight work crew.

Some of them probably would've gone home to their families tonight, but these fathers and husbands are yours at the moment. You'll let their wives fuss over tucking the kids in. If you can take away all cares from these men with one simple glance at a pocket watch, then why should you care about their families.

All you need to worry about, is choosing which filthy laborer to break in first...

The Foreman. He's on the far end of the basement, but the boys obediently squeeze their beefy bodies together to give you a path.

He might be the big boss on the job site, but the handsome brute drops to his knees with one word from his master. That dopey smile on his face says just how much this bitch wants to please you, and his workers couldn't agree more. Noticing your lust for their boss, they start egging him on, telling him to be a good boy for the master, encouraging him to be the best slut you've ever had.

You command the Foreman to open his mouth. He does so gleefully and accepts your cock surprisingly well. You can feel how relaxed his throat has become.

With that, the orgy of construction workers is officially kicked off! Your commands begin simple enough, telling who to bend over and who to ram it in, but they become more involved as you gain confidence. You tell the men to moan like two-cent whores, and the whole room echoes with deep manly growls. At one point, you instruct everyone to form a line and jerk off onto the Foreman's face, leaving it smothered with the cum of thirty men. Later, you order them all to lower their pants and touch their toes so you can find the hottest ass to peg. Hours go by as you test the limits of your control over these men.

Eventually, around four in the morning, you are drunk, tired, and sore in the balls. Three of the strongest men are still up to massage your shoulders and each foot, but the rest lay on the concrete floor, using each other's bodies as pillows. You fall asleep to the sound of gruff laborers randomly muttering compliments or praise to you, their master.

Just like you told them...

You wake up, and they're still taking turns to commend you. The three blokes massaging you seem ready to collapse from the fatigue.

With a simple order, everyone stops.

You leave them kneeling in the basement, packed together as efficiently as possible. It'd be nice to keep using them, but you have to go upstairs and heal from the hangover.

Before you flip the light off, you take one more look. The construction workers seem totally oblivious to the fact that you're leaving them down there to wait on their knees in the dark. From the looks on their faces, this would seem completely normal to them. Chuckling, you slip the door shut and move on with the day.

Who knows when you'll flip that light switch back on next? Until then, they'll be patiently kneeling in the dark, listening to the sound of thirty bodies breathing around them.

So, what are you gonna do with them? Return them to their old lives of physical labor and unchecked masculinity? Their wives and kids would probably thank you for that. Or maybe you'll have them cut off whatever friends or family they had before? Turn them into true workslaves that are only interested in bringing you the checks they suffer for? That would definitely be a rewarding financial endeavor. For now you'll just leave them to wait in your basement.

After all, you stole them fair and square...

[roughridingrednecks]

Martini in PA

[alphabull1]

[shirtlessworking]

improvised sweat shorts

[good-husband]

Your good husband has always been a blue collar boy. Working outside and with only with strength as his tools has made him the man he is. The better part is that he can carry you just as easily as he carries the logs he works with. The best part is what he does when he has you up like that.

[skinheadworkie]

Buckz at the Angel of the North, just round the corner from the site

[d469son-daddy469son-bw2]