The Lake House

CW: humiliation, SPH and exploitation.

This is a quick and nasty two-part series. More Mel, Duff and other follow-ups coming soon. Thanks for all the hot feedback!

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After I made VP my wife and I celebrated by closing on a summer house about an hour outside of the city. It was a beautiful old property on the water, with a boathouse and dock. Most amazing was that we had an entire half of a small lake to ourselves. The house was gorgeous but old, and knowing nothing about home repair one of the first things we did was find a contractor through the broker. He came on a Friday afternoon when I was finishing up some work on my laptop- the sound of his truck announced itself in the drive.

Mitch was in his early 50s, so about 15 years our senior. He had a receding hairline and a sun-kissed, rough face. He was brutish, with a heavy brow, a large nose, but there was something in his bearing that made him seem handsome, or just an extreme, palpable confidence that rendered him almost attractive.

Upon meeting he crushed my hand in his for a long, unnecessarily forceful shake. He smelled like sweat and cigars. He was a big man, my height but much wider. He moved forcefully but with sureness. I invited him inside and he pushed past me through the doorway, taking in the house.

"So let me show you around. Could I get you anything to-" He cut me off before I could complete my question.

"Get me a beer." He interrupted, his wide back to me, as he appraised the staircase. He stepped forward and ran his big, hairy hand up the smooth bannister like he was fondling a woman's leg.

I was a bit surprised by his demeanor but I quickly got him a pale ale from our fridge, and one for myself, and found him in the living room, examining the molding. He claimed his beer without thanks.

He was a gruff man's man type, more than a bit arrogant- he made it very clear that things would be done when he said they would be done. He'd grin with unveiled amusement as I admitted my ignorance of home repairs and general helplessness in the manly arts.

"When's the missus get in?" He asked as he held up one of the pictures we had unloaded onto the mantle.

"Kara? She gets in next Thursday. I get summer Fridays, and then I have the next week off and figured I'd get up this weekend and.." I trailed off as he picked up a photo of the two of us on our honeymoon in Thailand, me in swim trunks, she in a bikini. His thumb touched the glass of the frame.

"Mmmm, Kara." He said with uninhibited lust. I was taken aback and felt my face go red. How could he expect me to put up with this? He turned from the photo to my flustered face. He smiled and let out a long, spicy belch.

He then stomped into another room, taking a swig of his beer as he pushed past me, his shoulder rubbing against mine. I followed him into the kitchen where squatted down and flung open the cabinet doors one by one, swinging them quickly, almost looking like he wanted to rip them off their hinges. He was handsy, running his fingers over things, grabbing various elements and testing for weakness, gauging its condition. I knew he knew what he was doing but it made me uncomfortable, how at ease he was putting those big hands all over my new house.

"We'll get started tomorrow, then." He said matter-of-factly.

"Come again?" I thought I had misheard him. Wasn't the customer supposed to agree to the offer first?

"This place needs a lot of work, and I don't see any reason to delay. That a problem?" His question was pointed. He stood up from his squat, stepping towards me.

"I just... I was just looking to get a quote, not..." He cut me off forcefully.

"Like I said kid, if you want my help we do things when I say so. I'm a busy man and the best at what I do." He raised his eyebrows at me cockily, then finished his beer. Without a word he passed his empty bottle to me and I accepted it, setting it down on the counter.

I had been looking forward to having some time to myself, catching up on some work and other projects. But as he looked at me dead in the eyes, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face, I found I couldn't say no. Something deep in my belly made me fearful of displeasing him.

"Well I guess... that should work." I said, my face red. Neither of us commented on how pushy he was being, how strangely aggressive and smug, but the air was thick with it. Thick with his palpable disrespect and my craven accommodation. He stepped toward me, making me step back respectfully as he continued his tour through the house. Touching the walls and fixtures, inspecting by both sight and groping touch. Unprompted, he went through every room in the house, examining it all.

"It should be about $70k. I'll take that up front. Doesn't count materials which you also pay for. Might go over budget too. Don't worry, the contract'll set all that out." I think I gasped at hearing this. I knew enough to be sure that his estimate was way more than it should cost, and paying the entirety up front was completely unheard of. The guy was trying to rape me.

After he spoke, he grinned at me. Daring me with his unreasonable demands. Again the unspoken insult, like he knew he was humiliating me. Putting me over a barrel.

"I don't know Mitch, that seems a little steep." I realized we had ended the tour in the den, a smaller room I had set up for reading and gazing out on the lake. He now stood in the only doorway, trapping me in the little room.

"Oh, that's right, kid. I forgot how much you knew about renovating 100 year-old houses!" He laughed raucously, and slapped my shoulder. He kept his hand on my shoulder and vigorously rubbed it a few times, shaking my whole body. I got the same unspoken thrill I had always enjoyed when a boss or superior at work slapped my back or shoulder me like this, or when a coach had briskly slapped my backside. I just chuckled along, looking at the ground, at his big work boots. Mitch took this as tacit agreement.

"Good. One more thing. I always take a lien out on any property I work on. Nothing for you to worry about. Just a way of protecting myself." Now I definitely gasped. He released my shoulder and put his hands on his hips, his stance widening, completely filling the doorway. It was a power pose, just as he was asserting his authority over me.

A lien was crazy. Would it even be enforceable? It felt like I had been punched in the stomach. For some reason the outrageous demand was having a physiological effect on me, making my heartbeat fast and making me blush furiously. In my underwear I felt my cock twitch - was it just adrenaline, fight or flight? Or was this somehow was arousing me, being blatantly disrespected?

"A lien?" I asked, my throat dry. A lien meant he could take the house from under me if I failed to pay him on time. He might as well lock a heavy metal yoke around my neck. Tattoo his name on my buttock. I saw each of these scenarios in vivid detail. Why were these images in my head? I tried to banish the inappropriate thoughts and listen to what he was saying.

"Oh yeah. Just to make sure I get paid. You wouldn't believe what some customers try to pull in this business. And as you'll find, I definitely like to be in control of things." He stated innocuously, but the cocky grin remained on his face. He knew what he was doing to me, what a lien would mean. I'd be screwed. Truly bent over a barrel, pants at my ankles. With the contract as he proposed, Mitch would have no incentive to finish on time or stay within budget, he could milk me for all I was worth. And If I tried to fight it or withhold payment, I'd lose the house. Screwed and tattooed, with his name on my ass cheek.

"I would need... to talk to Kara." I sputtered out. He snorted.

"See, here I thought you were the man of the house. What are you, pussywhipped?" He asked, sneering disgust.

"No, it's just a lot, and..." I trailed off as he stepped closer, crowding his big body into mine, placing both hands on my shoulders, bringing his mouth to my ear.

"What's the point, you know the answer's going to be yes, Billy." I just lowered my head as I tried and failed to stutter out a response. I felt him staring at me, studying me for any resistance. Finally satisfied, he continued.

"Monday you'll sign all the papers. I'll have my guy bring 'em over. For now, let's shake on it." He took my smaller hand in his for a long, crushing shake. Mitch squeezed my hand into submission, jerking it wildly, then released it, winking at me.

He gave me that "I'm going to eat you alive" grin again before laughing once and turning from me slowly, strutting out of view. I just stood there, heart pounding, thinking I should call Kara but deciding against it. I heard the TV in the living room turn on, and the sound of a baseball game.

"Why don't you go get me another beer, kiddo." I found him sitting in my recliner, shoes and socks off his feet, smoking a cigar. Instead of telling him to get the hell out of my home I quickly fetched us another round. He belched loudly as he took it out of my hand.

I sat on the couch meekly and took a sip of my beer, not sure what was going on in my new home.

"So who's playing-" I ventured.

"Shh-" He brought his fingers to his lips, not looking away from the screen. It reminded me of watching TV with my older brothers as a kid, constantly being shushed and silenced, told not to be a bother. I just sat there, my focus torn from the game to the same strange man who had so quickly made himself at home. His big, hairy bare feet propped up on my ottoman. His large hand idly scratching his crotch.

At the commercial, he turned to me.

"When's dinner?" He asked, blowing smoke in my face.

"Oh, well, I wasn't, uh, planning, but" He stared at me for a moment, his broad neanderthal brow furrowing, until I began babbling again.

"But I could whip something together." He grunted in approval, nodded and turned back to his game. I hopped into the kitchen, my face flushed. I couldn't believe I was being treated this way by a near stranger and would-be employee. I was hiring this guy for Christ's sake, and now I was making him dinner?

I actually did enjoy cooking, when I had the time. As I began to lay out cookware and ingredients, I rationalized what I was doing. Kara and I were new to this town- I wanted to be as friendly as possible. Maybe the guy was lonely himself? Even if he was a bit pushy, I might as well make friends.

45 minutes later I had put together a pretty good meal. We ate on the deck overlooking the lake, toasting with a good bottle of wine he had taken off the wine rack and had me open. The sunset was beautiful.

"Damn, you make one hell of a spread. Kara's got the right idea, keeping you as a househusband while she brings home the bacon." He exploded with laughter at his own joke.

"Haha, no not quite, we both work." I smiled through the insult.

"Sure. What do you do, Billy?" I tried to explain what my practice group did.

"Wow, impressive. And yet you probably can't even change a tire?" He asked, staring me down with a big derisive grin on his face.

"You're right." I laughed along bashfully and he "goosed" me in the ribs, sending me hopping off my chair.

"The paradox of the modern man, huh? Master of the goddamn universe but can't find his own little dick." He seemed to speak in jest but his eyes were staring at me coldly as he chewed. I didn't know what to say so I just nodded, smiling foolishly. I felt my face go red - was I agreeing with him, that I couldn't find my own dick? And that it was little?

He took a long sip of his wine, smiling to himself like he was enjoying an inside joke, then filled both our glasses high.

"So how long you been with Kara?" Mitch had a way of maintaining rather intense eye contact, so that even small talk like this felt confrontational, like an interrogation.

"Well, married for 4 years, and 3 years before that."

"Jesus, 4 years and you haven't squirted any kids in her yet?" He looked at me in disbelief.

"Ha, well, uh you know she has her career and I do too, we figured we'd start trying this year or so."

"Goddamn, son. By the time I was your age I had sewn my seed all the hell over these 5 counties." He slapped the table roughly, shaking it.

"Ever married, or just, uh, fertilizing?" I smiled and I could tell he appreciated my attempt to dish it back out.

"One ex-wife. 4 kids that I know about. Believe me Billy the life of the bachelor is the ideal. I get more pussy than I ever did having that ring around my finger." He boasted, reaching across the table to jab at my ring finger, rubbing it. I watched our hands next to each other - mine smooth and delicate compared to his big, rough, hairy hand. His big finger stroked mine for a few more moments and I held my breath.

"Is that so?" I asked, taking a sip of wine. For some reason I enjoyed both his bombast and his unsolicited touch.

"Oh hell yeah. All kinds of pussy, Billy my boy. And let me tell you, married pussy is just the best pussy there is" He raised his eyebrows at me and I laughed nervously.

"There is nothing sweeter than getting your dick wet in pussy that belongs to another man." He added lewdly, finishing his glass then holding it out for me to refill.

As the meal finished he continued bragging about his sexual exploits. He seemed noticeably upset when I told him I hadn't made a dessert, but I said we had some ice cream in the freezer which he insisted on. I went into homemaker mode again for him, putting together a respectable sundae with chocolate sauce, whipped cream, crumbled nuts and even a few mint leaves for presentation. He laughed at my offering, slapping me on the backside, then quickly devoured it.

The big guy loved to eat. And drink. After dessert he found a bottle of my whiskey from my den and began pouring for us.

"So Billy, I figure I'll be hanging my hat here for the duration of the job. No need for me to be far from the site, and you have plenty of room here for me and some of my men, if need be." Leaning back in his chair, he kicked his bare feet up on the table as I cleared dishes.

"Oh, well..." I trailed off and he looked at me expectantly. Waiting confidently for me to one again cave, to give in.

"I'm sure it won't be a problem." Again, after giving in submissively, he merely nodded and grunted. The shrewder part of me wanted to ask whether room and board would be deducted from the contract price but I held my tongue. Why was I agreeing to all of this? Why did I need Mitch's approval?

He kept pouring drinks for us, and when he said he wanted to see the water I followed him out down to the dock. Before reaching the steps leading to the beach, he stopped and turned right so that he was standing at a profile to me. I watched him fiddle with his cargo shorts and whip his dick out. I could only see it in shadow but I was both shocked and impressed - it looked big and fat. He made no attempt to turn away from me and conceal it, and as he was ahead of me on the narrow path through shrubs I couldn't step around him. I just had to wait there and avert my eyes. I excused it as the big man having over-served himself, and my own strong buzz likewise justified my standing there mutely.

It was dark but in the dock lights I could see a large silhouette. l knew that even completely soft it was a sizable piece of equipment. He shook it and let out a long thick stream of piss, noisily slicing into the plants below. He bucked and twisted his hips as he pissed, as if he wanted to spread it around as much as possible, watering my lawn. Like a dog marking his territory. When he was finally done he groaned in satisfaction.

"Ah, that's nice. Nothing like draining the snake in the great outdoors." He remarked, shaking his prick in my direction. I flinched in the dark, feeling flecks of his urine hit my bare shins.

We sat together on the dock, bare feet in the water. He actually shimmied over beside me so that his big broad shoulder was against mine. He threw an arm around me and squeezed. I would have been uncomfortable with his closeness but he had basically forced me to keep up with him drink for drink, so I was feeling no pain.

"You're a sweet kid, Billy. Gonna be good friends with you, I can tell." His voice was warm and jovial but had a mocking twinge to it as he squeezed and shook me affectionately.

"You too Mitch. It's great to meet you and..." He stood up and spoke before I could finish.

"Damn that water feels good. I'm going in." The dock shook from his movement.

He whipped off his shirt, standing so close that it swiped across my scalp. I looked up at a hairy belly, inches from my face. He was tan, clearly a man that worked outdoors and with his hands. Mitch had a barrel chest - the solid kind of physique that looked naturally strong without the fussiness and vanity of the gym. He was built wide and powerful, with a bit of a beer gut. It didn't look sloppy or flabby the way other guys with bellies sometimes do- if anything it seemed to make him appear stronger, immovable. And his whole torso was carpeted in a dense brush of curly black hair, from the waistband of his shorts, over his round belly, his pectorals. He even had some hair over his shoulders, which strangely like the beer gut seemed to suit him somehow. I was startled as he went for his belt buckle.

"What do you say, Billy?" He asked, winking.

"I can go and get... bathing suits." I stuttered as his cargo shorts and boxers dropped to his hairy feet. Mitch had his hands on his waist, showing off the impressive hose hanging between his thighs. I quickly averted my eyes, looked out into the water.

"What's a matter, ain't cha ever seen a grown man naked before, son?" He asked, turning himself towards me, grinning like a maniac. I just stood there and tried to look away, nervously. I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was lewdly shaking his naked package at me. I stood up and backed away so that his big pecker wouldn't be so close to my face.

"Shit you are one high strung little poofter aren't ya?! Hahaha!" He slapped my shoulder mirthfully. I laughed along, accepting the epiphet.

"Come on, drop trou and join me." Mitch slapped my shoulder again, then cannon-balled into the lake, splashing me.

I hesitated for a few more seconds then pulled off my shirt. The alcohol certainly helped but I was mostly compelled by a strange desire to please this stranger. I swiftly stripped naked and dove in. We swam beside the dock. Mitch was quick to roughhouse, play grab ass under the water. Goosing me, making me jump and scramble away. We played in the water a bit like giddy children, and it reminded me of pool time with my older brothers. The way they'd wrestle and easily restrain me, or grab and throw me over the surface. Imitate a crocodile and yank my feet from below.

When Mitch pulled himself back on the deck I joined him, picking up both our clothes as he walked toward the house. I followed him back up the path to the porch, where he had me open up the hot tub. I certainly didn't think the first time I'd use it would be skinny dipping with my contractor but I welcomed the warm, churning jets.

For a few moments we enjoyed the waters in silence. Sitting beside me, his lap just beneath the surface of the clear water, my eyes returned to Mitch's endowment. He laughed, acknowledging my captivation with a toothy grin. He shook it at me between his thick fingers.

"Yeah, it's big, ain't it? Guys on the baseball team called me Moose. A real pussy wrecker, as I bet you can imagine." For a few seconds, I stared at it openly- I had never had another guy show off his penis like this to me. The fact that I was naked in front of him made it even more of a mind fuck. Sitting bare ass naked right next to him, my less impressive manhood on display, as he encouraged me to praise his huge endowment.