Roger got the call in about someone’s damaged pool over in Woodland Hills. It was a wealthy part of town, with many retired well off individuals and some Silicone Valley tech entrepreneurs. Roger always enjoyed getting to see how the other half lived and often got a pretty generous tip too. The jobs were often pretty simple and being the lazy, snobby types they also had no clue how to fix it themselves. 

Roger shut the door of his van and adjusted his rearview mirror. It caught his eyes in its reflection. He noticed the heavy bags underneath his eyelids. Exhausted from working such long hours just to make ends meet it was visibly starting to show on his aged face.

Roger was in his late thirties. He was average in many respects of the word. He wasn’t exactly overweight but his body had aged in a way that left him with a swollen stomach. His overalls were tight against his chest and thighs as they bulged out a bit against the fabric. 

Roger started the engine of his van and set off in the direction of the plumbing job. It was about midday on a Thursday, and the summer sun was high in the sky. Sweat patches were very obvious as Roger was layered up in his thick overalls. He never enjoyed getting sweaty during the hot summer’s day, it was just torture especially with the weak aircon in his van. 

The van rolled up to the large black metal gates which echoed that the owner liked their privacy. Roger pressed on a buzzer next to the gate and a panel lit up as a dialling tone sounded. A young face appeared on the screen.

“Yes?” the voice asked. 

“Uh.. hi there, I’ve been called out to fix some broken pipes,” Roger said, wiping some sweat from his brow. 

“One second, please,” the boy replied.

The large gate slid open as an expansive and exotic garden was revealed to Roger. He drove up the curved driveway to the large mansion surrounded by palm trees. He parked between a Bentley and a Range Rover – ensuring that he left plenty of space between the two cars. Grabbing his toolbox, Roger climbed out of the van as the two double doors of the mansion villa opened up. 

A figure stood at the entrance to the opulent home. As Roger approached the silhouette he could see that it was a young man of around mid-twenties clad only in a black speedo. His body ripped to shreds and the boy was a lot shorter than Roger. As he stood to greet the boy, he could see that muscled twink was visibly uncomfortable. 

A blush formed across the face of the young man as he bowed and greeted the plumber. This had to be one of the strangest jobs Roger had ever done. Even weirder than the house full of emus in the garden. 

“Hello, my name is Sin and I’m the houseboy. The Master of the house isn’t at home right now but if you’ll follow me I’ll show you the problem,” the boy instructed, with a posh twang to his speech.

Roger just stood watching in confusion at what he’d just heard and eventually followed the tanned boy into the house. He guessed it wasn’t all that weird. There were plenty of gay rich guys up in the hills who liked to live private fantasies behind their tall hedges and barred off gates. Roger had seen his fair share of private house staff before but nothing quite like this. 

As the boy continued up the steps and through the large double doors, Roger noticed that his speedo was made from some kind of shiny, reflective material. A weird protrusion from where his cock would be looked more like a hard lump than a dick. Roger became quite uncomfortable at the boy’s debaucherous look. 

‘Sure whatever people like to do behind closed doors, but could the boy have put on a gown or something?’ Roger thought. 

The boy’s tanned skin glistened like it was coated in oil. Like something straight out of an underwear catalogue. They entered into a large, vast foyer filled with exotic plants, white marble statues and canvas artwork. Whoever owned this place knew how to show off their wealth. The boy shut the double doors and beckoned for Roger to follow him down a set of cantilever stairs. 

To break the awkward silence, Roger decided to make small talk. 

“So is it just you in this big ol’ house?” Roger enquired.

The boy took a few moments to reply before saying in an uneasy voice;

“No, we have a gardener, chef and cleaner in our estate,” the boy replied politely. 

“…And are they all dressed like you are now,” Roger asked, more curious than mocking. 

“…y… yes Sir. Our Master has us dress this way,” the boy answered awkwardly. 

‘Wow, this poor kid. Getting dressed up and drooled over by a big fat rich guy,’ Roger thought. 

He knew that in this town, there were a lot worse jobs out there. People did what they had to to get by. He did feel bad for the poor sucker. 

“Does it bother you to wear something like that,” Roger implored, as couldn’t imagine doing something like this in his youth. 

“Just when I speak to strangers but that’s a very rare occasion,” the tanned boy replied. 

The two continued down the steps into a brightly lit living area. Ceiling to floor glass doors took up an entire wall with a view of the city stretching for miles. The muscled boy opened a bifold door and stepped out into the decking jutting out into the hills. An empty pool encircled around the edge of the decking. 

“There seems to be something wrong with the plumbing to the pool, I’ve tried the pump but there’s a weird noise when I turn it on,” the boy explained. 

“Uhhhh sure. Do you know where the pumps and filters are located?” Roger asked, dropping his toolkit and feeling the beating sun bearing down on him. 

“Here they are,” the boy announced, picking up a panel of decking and revealing the machinery used to operate the pool. 

As Roger began his routine checks, the boy stood watching awkwardly. He seemed to be lost in thought before he announced;

“Please excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back.”

Roger continued his work daydreaming about what life would be like in the tanned boy’s shoes. Or more so his skin-tight rubber speedo. 

The muscle boy walked back into the house and down a corridor to an office room. He sat down at the large computer pressing the dial button and showing a connecting screen. A change indicated that the call had begun and he spoke;

“He-hello Sir, permission to speak, Sir?” the boy implored. 

“Yes boy, you may speak,” the voice on the other end retorted. 

“The plumber has arrived to fix the pool for you, Sir. He’s been asking questions about you and seems intrigued by this slave’s appearance,” explained the tanner boy. 

“Perfect well you know what to do next. First tap me into the poolside feed so I can get a good look at him,” the rough voice commanded. 

The video feed on the computer changed to some hidden camera shots showing Roger working on the pool’s filters. 

“Hmmm very nice… I think he would make a perfect fit. Make sure nothing can be traced back to us. Get him ready for me. I’ll be home in a few hours,” the voice on the call ordered. 

“Yes Sir,” the boy replied meekly. 

“Oh and boy… good work. You’ll be getting a reward later,” 

The boy’s cage twitched in his speedo as he clenched around the plug embedded in his ass. The call ended and he set about erasing any trace of contacting the plumber and ordered his van to be collected and destroyed. In a few hours, the man currently fixing the pool would vanish into thin air. Never to be seen or heard from again. 

The pool’s water problem was a basic filter issue so Roger set to work to rectify it. The water seemed to be leaking from the filter itself so it was just a matter of shutting off the pump and draining the filter tank. He removed a clamp keeping the filter secure and took apart some of the rings inside it. 

After lubricating some of the parts and lifting out any debris, Roger screwed back on the clamp and tightened it in place. He then went to switch on the pump but couldn’t find the button. Gathering up some of his tools, Roger explored the area for the switch. The boy still hadn’t returned so he was left to search alone. 

Roger walked along the decking and noticed a small building at the end of the long outdoor pool. He got closer and noticed a door labelled ‘pool supplies’ and guessed this would be the most likely place to house the switch. 

Pressing down on the handle, the door creaked open revealing a dark room. Roger hunted around for a light switch. Navigating blindly in the dark he found a cord dangling from the ceiling. A pull of the switch disclosed quite a surprise. 

Stacked roughly to waist height were dozens of inflated pool toys. They all intertwined with each other. The tell-tale sound of plastic on plastic friction squeaked throughout the room. Roger noticed that along with pink flamingo rings and dolphin inflatables, there were also numerous body shaped ones. 

One fell from the heap and landed in front of Roger as he stared, completely shocked in disbelief. The doll had the proportions of a human with a pair of pink speedos painted around its waist. All of its features were drawn on like a blow-up doll and its mouth was open in a visible ‘o’. The facial expression of the inflated doll was that of both shock and arousal. 

A massive valve stuck out from the toy’s crotch area as it just lay lifeless on the ground next to Roger. He knelt down to caress the skin of the toy. It was similar to plastic but a bit more akin to the rubber briefs the house boy was wearing earlier. The body of the doll shone bright with some kind of slick substance coated on it. This was getting weirder by the minute. 

Suddenly, the pool toy twitched. IT WAS ALIVE! 

‘No that was impossible!’ Roger thought. 

But he couldn’t deny it… it was as if the doll was moving, if only minutely. Swiftly, the rest of the pool toys in the room began to twitch in the same way. They moaned and creaked as their bodies rubbed against each other. The noise became almost deafening as Roger jumped back in fright. He ran from the horrifying sight. Terrified at what he’d just encountered. 

Roger bounded back to his toolbox. Hurryingly packing his belongings.

“Is everything finished, Sir?” the boy appeared once again, frightening Roger as he yelped in surprise. 

“Uhh.. yeah I just tried to look for the on-pump switch and…” Roger stammered out. 

“Oh that’s right here,” the boy announced.

He pressed a button that lay behind a hidden panel and clean water slowly began to pour into the pool. 

“Are you alright you seem a bit white…” the tanned boy probed. 


Roger was torn if he should ask about what he just witnessed or if he should keep it quiet. Maybe there was an easy explanation for it. Vents in the ground could have made the noise he just heard… it’s also not unorthodox for a pool supplies room to be filled with … well pool supplies. 

“Yeah sorry just the heat can sometimes get to me,” he lied. 

“Well let me fix you a drink, Sir,” the boy said walking behind a stainless steel poolside bar. Roger stood awkwardly as the boy expertly jiggled a cocktail shaker in his hands. He just couldn’t help but feel uneasy. 

“Uhh so what does HE do?” Roger queried, breaking the silence once again. 

“Excuse me, Sir?” the boy retorted.

“I mean the guy who owns this place,” he clarified. 

The boy poured out the mixture into a glass with ice.

“I’m not aware of what Master does for a living,” the boy remarked. 

Roger was gobsmacked. 

“How could you not know? Aren’t you even curious to ask?” Roger inquired.

“Master doesn’t permit me to speak or ask him questions, except when he commands me to,” the boy openly confessed.

“Then why work here? That seems like an awful lot to put up with,” 

The boy produced a finished cocktail in a martini glass, garnished with an orange peel. Roger picked up the glass and took a sip of the cool beverage. 

“I don’t understand, Sir? I don’t work here I belong to Master. I am his property,” the boy admitted. 

Roger was stunned to silence, once again.

“W-what? Owns you?” Roger asked with a sense of dread in his voice. 

“Master owns everything that exists within these walls. What he says is gospel,” the tanned boy said nonchalantly. 

This was getting a bit too creepy. Roger was unsure if he should do something to help the poor kid or wait until later and call the police. It sounded like some Stockholm Syndrome or one of those brainwashing cults. He took another swing of the fruity drink. 

The pool was about half full as it continued to pump fresh water into it. The muscled boy emerged from behind the bar and began testing out the water levels in the pool. 

“Thank you for fixing this for us, Sir,” the boy expressed, sinking back into a normal conversation after dropping such a huge bombshell on Roger. 

“Uhh sure, so that’s all you need from me, right?” he questioned. 

“That’s everything, Sir!”

“Alright then I take checks, cash in hand or if you need to-“

“Please follow me, Sir” the boy cut Roger off, as he headed back inside.

Roger downed the rest of his drink and picked up his tools. He followed the speedo clad boy back inside. From behind he could appreciate this guy’s dedication to keeping the perfect body. His toned back muscles joined a perfectly round butt wrapped in the shiny tight fabric. Not that Roger was gay but he knew sexy when he saw it. 

As they climbed the steps back up to the foyer, Roger began to feel lightheaded and uneasy on his feet. At first, he put it down to fatigue from working such long shifts. He tried to shake the feeling but each step he took felt like such immense effort. 

“I don’t feel .. great..” he stuttered out as he reached the top of the steps.

Before he could steady himself, Roger fell forward landing with a thud on the ground. He was seeing stars as the boy looked down on him. Roger fell unconscious. 

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