His wife had been nagging him about the house for years, complaining it was drab and rundown. He referred to it jokingly as her midlife crisis, at first. But the more she talked, the more he came to see it as somewhat sad and pathetic.
So he looks at some web sites, sees some glowing reviews for this firm, clients seemed to really enjoy having the contractor doing work for them. He gives the office a call, a bubbly woman on the other end signs him up for an interview that weekend.
He's not sure what to expect, but the guy who shows up clearly impresses his wife. Six foot six, heavily built, with a deep voice and absolute confidence. The contractor starts telling them what he would do with the house, she nods eagerly, practically gushing as she agrees with everything the contractor wants. He wonders quietly how much this will cost, but the contractor just ignores him.
Finally frustrated, he just goes for a walk, hoping that once he gets back, they will have settled down and they can talk terms. He keeps walking for a while in a funk, not paying attention to where he's going. He starts noticing that his wife hasn't called him to check on him, realizes it's been over an hour. He catches a bus, gets back to the house.
The contractor's truck is still outside. He imagines how silly this will look, the contractor and his wife waiting at the kitchen table for him to get back. As he starts walking down the hallway, he hears his wife moaning and the loud grunts of what he assumes must be the contractor. He shivers, adrenaline and fear coursing through him.
The man sounds like some wild beast, rutting with the woman who used to be his wife. As she continues to pant and gasp, the contractor calls her a filthy name, he cringes but can't help agreeing that it fits. He decides to divorce her, he won't waste his time with a woman like that.
At the same time, he can't help but be fascinated by how much they seem to be into it and how much stamina the contractor must have. He's certainly not going to hire him, but he's never heard his wife respond so enthusiastically and he's never gone so long. He begins fingering himself, stroking his little cock as the big man pounds the slut down the hall.
He loses track of time, creams himself repeatedly as he rubs himself out until he drifts into a mindless haze. Every bellow from the man, every moan from the woman gets him off again. His hands cramp, his knees buckle, his eyes glaze, his cock gets raw.
He's on his knees still jerking off when the contractor steps out, buckling up. He doesn't look up past the boots.
"Enjoy the show?"
He cringes and nods.
"Come into the kitchen, I've got some papers for you."
He whimpers at the cruelty and contempt in the man's voice, he knows he's going to lose everything but he's desperate for some escape.
"Please, just take her and go."
The boots come closer, he imagines wimps like him polishing them, tries to scurry back. But his body is all but useless. He falls forward, kissing the man's boots, then tries to wriggle away. A boot presses down on the back of his neck, he freezes in terror.
"I don't know if you want me to punish you, frankly I don't care. This is my house, my woman, my rules, you pay the bills and do as your told. I've got a hundred little bitches like you and a hundred little sluts like her. So I don't have time for your freaky games."
He hears the belt comes off, the buckle is whipped onto his back and ass repeatedly, the boot holding him still. He cries, begs, finally promises to be a good little bitch, sign the papers, do whatever the man wants.
Once he has turned over the house and bank accounts, he's given a timetable for the remodeling of the home. Since the house will be uninhabitable for several months, he and the wife will stay at the office. He goes in the back of the contractor's truck with the tools, his wife rides up front.
At the office, he meets the woman from the phone. She is gorgeous and clearly in awe of the contractor, ignoring both of them completely until he tells her how to handle them. He doesn't listen, he can't stop staring at her body, or rubbing himself again.
She looks at him with a gleam, he moans. She tells him to strip, he obeys, she seems to enjoy it. She tells him to get on his hands and knees, he hesitates, she loses her smile. He drops down shakily, his eyes travelling down her body to her gleaming, high heeled shoes.
"Do you like my shoes?"
He nods yes uncertainly.
"Good. Because that's the most you're going to see of me."
She walks away, then stops and orders him to heel. As she starts to turn towards him, he crawls rapidly towards her.
"Maybe you got the wrong idea from my boss. A lot of you losers are so eager to worship him that he doesn't take the time to train you properly. You are his bitch. He owns every nasty little bit. You do as you're told and you won't be abused, much. Now you're going to your new home, until he's got his new place built."
She walks away without further comment, he crawls behind, then at her instruction into a box, which she shuts behind him.
"Are you even wondering what happened to your wife?"
"She's a nasty slut, I don't care."
"You pathetic piece of shit. Your wife is a woman who has finally found a real man, someone who can satisfy her in a way you never could. She is giving herself completely to him, allowing him total control and receiving so much in return. Little fucks like you could never understand. Which is why you are in the box and she is in bed."
He's trained like a dog after that, fed only when he performs, punished immediately when he fails to obey. He posts glowing reviews of the contractor's work, learns to rehab housing and watches the man with various women.