The Social worker's Chav master
Dear reader this is my first time writing anything like this so please be kind. That's said feel free to give feedback at gaybadboy69@gmail.com
This is a work of fiction based on my own fantasy's all characters and events are fictional.
Hope you enjoy.
Part 1
Finally after a year training I was getting my first client and instead of the excitement I should have been feeling I was terrified god knows what kind of person they would give me.
This was never the job a soft, posh boy like me should be doing, but there's not much you can do with a performing arts degree, well apart from the obvious.
So thanks to a favour someone owed my father here I was a social worker in one of the roughest parts of Newcastle. My name's Sam I'm 23, on the chubby side with sandy, blond hair and pretty plain features.
While this job was pretty much my only option (not sure if you mean something else with -- opinion) there are some very good reasons I shouldn't be doing it. One: being I'm gay, not that it's very obvious, but not the most masculine of men. Another reason is: I'm very, very into chavy men. Not that I've ever been with one, ever since I was bullied by chavs as a kid I've always been so turned on by them.
Working with quite chavy clients this could go very wrong, but maybe I'll get lucky and it will be a woman - no issues there.
No! Life wasn't that kind to me I realised as I read the file of my first client I'd be meeting soon. His name is Connor, he's 19, recently been kicked out by his mother so is on universal credit and living in a council house nearby.
Due to his young age and bad family life, my job will be to meet with him a few days a week to talk through things and teach him about cooking and cleaning for himself, things I'd only recently learned myself, while he looked for work.
So as I sat in my make shift office wearing a nice shirt and pants I was terrified waiting for him to arrive hoping desperately he was nice and more importantly unattractive.
Eventually the door opened and he walked in making sure he was in the right place he asked, "You Sam?".
He was dressed in Adidas tracksuit bottoms and hoodie, which he pulled down showing short, cute, light brown hair. My heart sank because he was unbelievably attractive. Although while having a boyish face it was definitely handsome and even under his hoodie I could see he had an amazing body. Not athlete status, but skinny muscular with strong looking arms.
Trying to control myself, I got up and walked over and went to shake the hand of the chav of my dreams, "Yes I'm Sam, and are you Connor? Nice to meet you", I said hoping to sound confident.
Not buying it, Connor ignored my outstretched hand and walked into the room, sitting down on the waiting chair in front of me.
I sat back down and went to start but before I could Connor began, "Listen, mate, I'll save us both some time. I don't need you".
I was shocked, but was trained to expect this.
"What makes you think that?" I asked.
Looking already sick of me Connor explained, "Mate, I've been looking after myself a long time. I don't need some posh prick telling me what to do," as he looked me over my nice clothes and haircut - appearing to physically disgust him.
I was feeling very uncomfortable under his stare, I had to be professional. In the short time he'd spent in the room, his musk had reached my nose and wow! He smelled as good as he looked.
"Look," I said, "I'm not gonna be telling you what to do. I'll just be coming over to help you with some house stuff, and everyone needs that."
Connor stayed silent as my heart beat hard in my chest. He was so good looking and I was desperately hoping my hard cock wasn't showing through my tight trousers. Lucky my cock was too small to be visible, even hard, unlike Connor's who's soft cock made a visible outline in his tracksuit bottoms.
He broke the silence and I hoped to god he didn't notice me looking down there, "Right whatever," before getting up and walking out so quickly before I could barely get out, "Great, I'll be at yours tomorrow," before he was gone.
After Connor left, I sat almost breathless in my chair. Flushed, I got up and drank almost half the bottle I had in my bag. Noticing as I did the small wet stain of precum on my trousers. What the hell was I gonna do? I could still smell him in the room, his sweat mixed with cheep aftershave. Whatever happened I told myself I had to be a professional. Despite this when I got home to my flat that night I did nothing, but wank my cock remembering his face, his body odour and the strange power he gave off.
The next morning I nervously, yet excitedly, walked down the road of council houses towards where Connor lived. When I arrived at the address I was given I calmed myself, got into my professional headspace and knocked at the door. He opened the door and as he stood there in all his glory my professional headspace disintegrated.
He was wearing a black vest top so I could fully see his muscular arms and shoulders, on the left one was a tattoo of a name I couldn't make out as it went along to his bicep and vanished under his top. He was also wearing trainers with white socks, with grey joggers tucked into them.
He'd obviously just been working out so was flushed and sweaty. I smiled and greeted him, "Morning, not interrupting anything am I?" He didn't return my smile just stud back and gestured me into the house, "Yeah I was just working out, suppose you can come in".
I walked into the house trying hard not to touch him as the door was wasn't the biggest and he wasn't moving for me. I held my breath not wanting to inhale that much manliness at once.
The house was small and in need of some work. First room we walked into was the living room with a large TV on what looked like a wooden box and under it was an Xbox and in front of it were a strained, messy coffee table and a single old, but comfortable looking, leather arm chair. The rest of the room looked like a makeshift gym with a treadmill and weight bench heavy looking weights covered the floor.
Connor walked past me and into the kitchen as I looked around the room. I assumed I should follow him, so I did.
The kitchen was dirty, small and grey. There was a back door leading to a small garden and a set of stairs leading to what I assumed was the bedroom which made it look like the kitchen was built into a hallway.
Conner went into his fridge, getting out some bacon and a loaf of bread. He walked over and handed them to me as he said, "Pans are in there," pointing at the cabinet next to the cooker.
Assuming he wasn't understanding why I was there I explained, "Erm, Connor, I'm here to show you how to..."
He cut me off before I could finish, "I know how to make a fucking bacon sandwich, mate, but you've interrupted my workout so just do it and when I'm finished we'll talk ok?"
I just stood there speechless, not knowing what to do. It's not my job to cook for him, I thought. However, looking at his big muscular body I didn't think I could say no to him.
He took my silence as agreement said a quick, "Good," and walked back into the living room.
So I got to work making Connor's breakfast. Not knowing if it was the sound of him lifting weights in the next room or something about doing something he'd told me to do, but I was rock hard.
I really had to calm myself down and get control of this situation. I put Connor's food on a plate and brought it into the living room. Connor was on the weight's bench doing post workout stretches, and I couldn't help but look. His arms where pushing and red hot and he was dripping with sweat. I watched a drop role down his arm through the hair of his armpit and down his body as he stretched his arms up.
He noticed I was there and put out a hand for his plate which I handed to him. Without a thank you, he began to eat while I just stood there nervously. I attempted to start a conversation so I could assert myself as someone there to check on him - not do things for him, but when I tried talking he put up one finger, stopping me, saying, "Eating."
So I waited for him to finish and after it looked like he'd had I tried again, but he just handed the plat back to me and said, "Clean it then we'll talk". I did as I was told.
I assumed without any distractions we could have a proper conversation. Unfortunately while I was washing his plate I was fully erect and there was no way I could have a proper talk with him. Hopefully my cock is too small to be noticeable because there no way it's going down. So when I was finish I readjusted myself, prepared and walked back into the living room. I didn't know what to expect when walking into the room, what I really didn't count on was for Connor to be stood there waiting for me with his arms crossed over his chest.
I tried talking, but again was cut off by him asking, "Are you a fag?"
"Oh shit," I thought to myself, "this isn't going to end well, but fuck it I should probably be honest." I replied nervously, "Well yes, I am gay".
"I fucking knew it," he said, but then surprised me by smiling.
Maybe this wouldn't end with me getting beaten up, "Is that going to be a problem?", I asked.
"What, that you're gay or that you've been checking me out all morning?", he replied.
Shit he noticed all I could do now is lie, "No, I wasn't!"
Connor walked over to me and I froze, but he shocked me by putting his hands on my shoulders and said, "Yes you were, mate, but it's fine," as he looked me in the face probably for the first time since we met.
Over the moon, I checked what I heard was real, "Really?", I asked.
"No", he said calmly before kneeing me hard in the balls.
I dropped to my knees hard as the pain shot through my body. I moaned in pain and held my balls while looking up at a scary, happy looking Connor standing over me.
"I've looked into it and there's no way I'm getting out of having a social worker, but I had to get the faggot one", he said looking down at me.
I pulled through my pain to respond, "It's fine, I'll go and you'll get a new one, you'll never have to see me again."
Connor laughed before continuing, "No, mate, if I have to have a social worker then what would be better than one that's a fag that I can control."
"Fuck! I was in real trouble here, this kid is a psycho," I thought to myself.
Before I could think of a way to get out of there he said, "Kiss my trainers, fag."
I was in shock! Clearly he was joking.
"What?," I asked, hoping he'd laugh it off, but instead I got a hard slap to my face.
"Kiss my fucking trainers," he ordered as he stuck out one of his black Nike trainers. I didn't know what else to do so I did as ordered and kissed his trainer.
The sound of a phone camera went off and I looked up at Connor who's phone camera was pointed at me.
"Smile, fag," he said before taking another photo of me kneeling at his feet.
I sat up quickly in shock, "What are you doing?", I asked.
He took another photo and calmly said, "Taking proof for your boss."
Oh god I was so fucked, I'd definitely get the sack for this.
"Look, please don't I'll do anything," I pleadingly said.
Connor put his phone away and sat on the edge of his workout bench.
"I was hoping you'd say that," he said pointing at the floor in front of him.
I went to get up but he shouted, "Crawl!", so I did as I was told.
I crawled over to where he was pointing then sat back kneeling In front of him. Connor crossed his big arms again and looked down at me.
"Listen up, I'm gonna make this very simple for you. From now on you do everything I say without question or I'll be contacting your work and telling them everything. So from now on you're my servant, got that, fag boy?"
There was nothing I could do, he had me and it was my entire fault for being messy and pervy. What was worse was how unbelievably turned on I was.
I had no other choice, but to agree, "Yes," I said answering his question, but this got me another hard slap as Conner shouted, "Yes what, faggot?.
With that I totally gave in and accepted my fate with a "Yes, sir," I said looking away from his face and down at his feet.
"First things first, take off my trainers and rub my feet'" Connor demanded.
Without question I did as I was told and removed Connors left trainer. His white socks where well worn so their colour was more of a dirty grey round the bottom which was soaked in sweat. The smell hit me as soon as the trainer was off and it sent shivers through me as I took his foot in my hands and began to rub. The sock was damp and worm as I rubbed, but I continued as he looked down at me on approval.
"There's a good fag, this is what you really wanted isn't it?" Connor asked as he pulled away the first foot and put the other on my lap.
He was right, because as gross, humiliating and degrading as this was it felt right. I was enjoying myself despite myself, his smell turned me on. The sweaty, damp socked feet I was rubbing turned me on, and being under his control turned me on so I said, "Yes, sir", and went to work on his other foot.
After just a few moments of this Connor kicked me away from him and stood up, "That's enough for today, fag."
I was actually upset as I thought, "It can't be over yet?"
He noted the look on my face and started laughing. Realising what I was wanting he said, "Don't worry, tomorrow we start for real. Now get out."
I got up and left without saying anything.
That night, as I lay in bed wanking my little cock, I thought about what happened and how much trouble I was in and, mostly, what was the next morning going to bring.
To be continued...