Apprehended by Workers: Part 2
"Hey Paul!" The younger guy called out to me, yelling loud enough to be heard over the small sound of the shower. "You can't be here, man! Didn't you see the sign? The floors are wet. You could slip!" His accent was pretty heavy. He was from some eastern European country or something. But it was nothing compared to Pater's.
"Paul, we're cleaning now, yeah?" Pater explained, with a hint of laughter in his voice. "You're in the way, right?"
Their words were pretty serious, but both men's eyes were filled with laughter. I immediately turned away from them. Thank god I was facing the wall. All they saw was my bare behind, which frankly wasn't bad. Thanks to my gym trips and regular squats, I had nothing to be ashamed of down there. Much better than what was probably hidden under those overalls they were wearing.
I shut off the shower at the wall, and without turning around, I attempted to sound confident. "What are you doing? I need to finish my shower, guys!"
Pater's voice responded, and I looked over my shoulder to see him speak. "Paul, no, it's cleaning time. We need to mop, okay? You can finish while we clean."
I got angry. Who were these damn cleaners, telling me what to do? I make the damn computer parts in this factory. I practically paid their salaries. And here they are, bossing me around?
I cupped my dick and balls with my hand and turned around.
"Get out of here! I need to finish my shower!"
But as I turned around, and bent a bit at the shoulders, with hands over my little friend and his cohorts, Pater and Ionis burst into laughter. Real, genuine, uproarious laughter. They even shared a look, like "who would believe this guy?"
It felt like I had been transported back to that awkward day in the changing rooms in Wexford. I felt the humiliation as a physical thing, like someone had splattered an egg of pure mortification on my head. Or was that just the water from the shower?
"I-I, I'll just-" I was struggling to speak now, the embarrassment was so intense. This was making the laughter even louder. Pater started crying, and Ionis bent over, roaring with laughter. The entire thing was shaking, and I was worried it might come crashing down, but it held on.
After a few long moments of laughing, pointing, and slapping each other on the back, they calmed down. "You were in a hurry today, right?" Pater asked, still panting, and his eyes were more alive with humour than I had ever seen them.
I could only nod meekly. The embarrassment, the sheer humiliation, hit me like a ton of bricks. What could I do to get out of this situation before it got worse?
At this point, they seemed a little more worried about me. "I'll get you a real towel," Ionis said, and he walked across the room to the bathroom door, heading for the locker room.
After exhaling a breath of relief that soon evaporated, I observed Pater heading towards the open door into the locker room. From where I stood, I could peer past the door, catching a glimpse of lockers lining the walls. If these lockers were visible to me, then anyone who entered the locker room to use them could presumably see me. In an effort to conceal myself, I shuffled awkwardly to the right, trying to use Pater's heavy frame as a shield.
Peter turned to gaze at what I was focussing on. "You're shy, aren't you?" he asked, his voice devoid of malice or venom, almost possessing a certain melancholy. I made a feeble attempt to shrug, maintaining an air of mystery.
"Why?" Pater queried further. "This is a men's locker room. We should all be proud of what was given to us by God, wouldn't you agree?"
I shuddered inwardly. While atheistic, the mention of God stirred deep-seated discomfort. Additionally, the notion of being proud of the physical attribute I was desperately attempting to hide seemed utterly preposterous. Pater recognized the distress and amended his statement.
"Some of us may have more to be proud of than others, don't you think?" he said, evidently repressing a chuckle. I attempted to object but was cut off by Pater once more.
"Your bag was left unattended when we cleaned the bathroom in this locker room," he stated. "Should I take it to lost and found?"
The notion of Pater taking my bag set off alarm bells in my mind. I catapulted towards my backpack with unprecedented haste. Pater burst into laughter, announcing with sheer mischief evident in his eyes, "I was just joking! I had no intentions of taking your things."
However, my heart still raced; I braced myself for the worst. Pater approached me, patting me happily on the back. Though his size and strength instilled a sense of helplessness, I felt both relieved and embarrassed.
"You have nothing to worry about," he stated, shaking his head. "Nobody cares about...what you're hiding there," he said, gesturing towards my crotch. "You resemble a frightened schoolboy. When I was younger, bathing in Nemunėlis while the temperatures hovered around freezing, we were all indifferent to the size of our 'tools.' We were men."
Pater suddenly sat straight in his chair, a newfound masculine pride emanating from his body. It was as if he were recalling the camaraderie shared by a group of cold, half-naked boys, each of them shrinking as winter took its toll.
"So, what are you?" he asked, gesturing with his hand towards my crotch. "A child in a man's body? It's incongruous..."
I couldn't meet his gaze. I was no Lithuanian teenager, bathing with an oversized group of friends in a freezing river—I was alone in a locker room in Ireland in November, with a much older man who could barely speak my language and clothed while I stood naked. With my dignity stripped away, I was immersed in a sensation of shame I hadn't experienced for over a decade.
"It's that Catholic upbringing of yours, isn't it?" Pater theorized.
Ionis appeared out of nowhere, holding a generous towel in his fingers. As I stood as exposure started to feel unbearable, he expressed amusement with my predicament.
"Would you like this?" he laughed to himself.
"Yes, please," I pleaded, surprised at how needy and pathetic my entreaty sounded.
Ionis threw the towel but with uncanny accuracy, allowing it to land near me. In my haste to hide, I stretched onto my tiptoes and caught the towel, both hands clutching the fabric anxiously.
Immediately, I realized what I had done.
Both Ionis and Pater gasped as they witnessed what they had not seen before: my dick and balls available for all to see.
My Mickey was the smallest it had ever appeared before. My shaft that I was proud to announce reached a whopping five inches when I was in my full glory was nowhere to see. My willy was almost completely inside my body, not the usual inch, but the half inch it could shrink to when I was cold, but almost non-existent. My circumcised head and pee hole emerged, barely, sitting on the base of my sack, pulled so tight by the cold one can see the tiny eggs that were my nuts.
I had never even seen a clit so internal. There was virtually no willy there at all.
I stood frozen in awe for a brief moment, expecting laughter to erupt, but silent. Ionis and Pater looked at me as if they might look at a leper or a war survivor. Ionis whispered something I couldn't understand under his breath, and a wide grin spread across his face. "Tough break..."
Pater slapped a hand on my shoulder. "None of us decide how much of a man we are, correct?"
I couldn't argue with that.
He laughed, rather than the belly laugh he had been caught up in a few minutes earlier, but a resigned, relieved laughter. It seemed to say 'Thank God that isn't me.'
"Thanks for the demonstration," he said, and Ionis snickered at that. They turned to depart, walking out of the fabric cubicle without bothering to slide the shower curtain shut. Pater caught my eye just before turning out. I was standing there frozen; I hadn't even tried to hide myself yet. I saw him take one last pitiful glance at my small, small willy, and he met my gaze with a nasty smile.
"Catch you later, little one."
The words sent a shudder running up my spine. No one had ever called me 'little one' before. I stood there for a moment or two, naked in the cold shower room, clutching the towel to my chest. Pater and Ionis closed the wet floor sign with them, and for a second, I just stood there, surprised, wet, not even aware of my feelings. Then I heard "At last!" and the footsteps of a group of my co-workers who had been waiting for the bathroom to become available walking in.
I barely managed to close the curtain in time to avoid more people seeing my secret shame. My hands struggled with the fabric, I was so confused and mortified I felt almost drunk.
They knew. These cleaners, two masculine guys, one younger than me, one older, they were more men than I would ever be; and now they knew it, and I knew they knew it. How would this alter our interactions? Would they tell their buddies? My co-workers? Would they smile those knowing smiles when they spotted me in the hallway?
Gazing down, I was astonished to find that my joystick was standing at attention, fully upright and ready to go. A thick bead of pre-cum had already slid halfway to the floor before I noticed I was turned on.
I couldn't put into words the emotion, couldn't verbally explain the intensity of the humiliation I had just endured, and couldn't comprehend how I could have enjoyed it so much.
A bizarre notion crossed my mind.
The next day, I would be arriving early.
I would go to the public showers in the workplace gym.
And I would crank the water as cold as possible, step under the icy spray, and demonstrate to every other guy showering in the area how much less of a man I was than they.
I wrapped my fingers around my thing and began pistoning it.
That day, I would be ten minutes late stepping onto the production line.
Read also:
- Chapter 12 of Katie's New Life
- An Art College Standout in Chapter 1
- Confessions of a Cuckold - Chapter 3
- "Chapter 3: The Game They Played"
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