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#blue collar
mika13310 · 1 day
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(Image trouvée sur internet).
Comment résister à l'envie de quitter son job de bureau de merde pour devenir ouvrier agricole ? Travailler au grand air, prendre soin des animaux, cultiver et aimer la terre, porter une combinaison, avoir ses bottes en caoutchouc pleines de boue, occuper ses mains à tout travaux manuels, transpirer, se reconnecter à la nature, se reconnecter à l'essentiel !
(Image found on the internet).
How can you resist the urge to quit your crappy office job to become a farm worker? Working in the great outdoors, taking care of animals, cultivating and loving the land, wearing overalls, having your rubber boots full of mud, keeping your hands busy with any manual work, sweating, reconnecting with nature, reconnecting with essential !
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androtherika2 · 1 day
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rozz0 · 1 month
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chromet · 2 months
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Dickies Eisenhower jacket by Father Figure
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beefysmorgasbord · 9 months
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Oh fuck yes!
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bluecollarmcandtf · 9 days
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The New Garbageman
Lance slowed from his run and glanced at the trash compactor sitting outside his apartment complex. He needed to catch his breath, but he hated being so close. The young man gave a disdainful look to the laborer who seemed wholly unbothered by his choice in career. 'Some men are just meant for menial crap like this,' he thought to himself, 'God knows I wouldn't be caught dead doing it.'
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The jogger looked straight ahead as he passed, not wanting to make eye contact with the sucker lugging away a week's worth of his building's refuge. Lance thought the smell alone was enough to make him gag, but he was even more disturbed by the garbageman's indifference to the squishy contents leaking all over his clothes.
'At what point is that worker just considered trash himself?' Lance pondered with a grimace.
Just as he was about to escape into the entrance of the complex, a sharp ripping noise sounded behind him, followed by a clamour of things crashing to the ground.
Lance made the mistake of looking back, seeing a huge mess scattered across the sidewalk. It looked like a garbage can had exploded and now there was rotten food and crumpled papers everywhere, but that damn sanitation worker had vanished!
"The hell!" Lance shouted in anger, but his rage didn't last long.
A sudden pain stabbed him in the back and he crumpled to the ground like all the garbage had moments before. Everything went black...
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Lance shook off the daze and found himself leaning against one of the garbage bins. The pain in his back didn't feel as acute anymore. All he could feel was an unusual warmth spreading from where he had been stung.
"Where is that goddamn garbage man," he growled, wincing at the litter surrounding him. He was ready to give that idiot a piece of his mind.
He put his hand on the concrete in an attempt to get himself up, but was surprised by the feeling of gloves over his fingers. Lance stared at his gloved palms with total confusion. He was sure as hell that he didn't put those old worn things on!
Then he noticed his shoes. They weren't the sneakers he'd been jogging in moments before. They were some kind of work boots!
"What the hell!" he exclaimed, wondering if he'd actually been knocked out and robbed.
Lance pushed his fears aside and began climbing to his feet, but as he did, he noticed something had appeared over his shoulders!
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"Where'd this come from?" he cried, becoming more and more angry as articles of clothing just kept appearing on his body.
He was positive this dirty old jacket didn't belong to him. It was covered with stains and reeked like a public bathroom. Lance had a habit of always keeping his clothes freshly laundered and fragranced. He wouldn't even wear jeans two days in a row without washing them, so what was this raggedy work jacket doing in his back?
Lance frantically started to pull the thing off, but it seemed stuck on his waistband or something. No amount of thrashing could get him to pull the thing over his head!
He moaned in frustration and threw his fists down angrily. Then, he noticed why the jacket wouldn't come off. It took him a second to realize what he was looking at. The jacket was attached to the new pants he had on!
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Lance shouted out in a state of confused panic. "Help!" he cried, not knowing what else to do, but even if someone did come over, what would he tell them? They'd never believe that his clothes were magically being replaced!
He couldn't even bring himself to look down at what he was wearing. Gone were his running shorts and tank top. In their place, a gross old jumpsuit had enveloped his body. Lance was struck by the itchiness of the course material, but he was even more horrified by how damp it felt against his skin. He didn't want to know what liquid those coveralls were saturated with; oil, sweat, or something even worse?
Lance couldn't find his phone in any of his new attire's pockets. He didn't know what was going on, but he was about to start screaming if he didn't find out soon. His breathing intensified while his heart raced out of his chest. He could feel the panic attack coming.
Then all of a sudden, he stopped...
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That warm feeling in his back had washed over his entire body and told every tense muscle to relax. Lance's heart rate eased and his breathing slowed. The confusion, worry, and panic in his face was gone: a numb expression sat in its place.
Lance didn't understand why he had suddenly become so calm. Internally, he was still disgusted, horrified, and outraged, but he couldn't deny how relaxed his body had became.
Finally able to gain his bearing, the former jogger climbed up from the ground and gave his new outfit another look.
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"What the hell is this thing," he wondered, but his voice had a comparatively lifeless tone.
Lance studied the clothing. The boots were caked with dirt and grime. He could feel his feet sweating inside them. In fact, his entire body felt like it was being cooked. He was completely covered from the neck down with some pretty heavy duty work wear. It was all clothing he would never be caught dead in, yet it looked kind of familiar.
Suddenly it, clicked.
"I'm dressed a goddamn garbage man," Lance spoke again with a monotoned voice.
Then his mouth moved on its own, "I am a garbage man."
The words chilled him to the core. He had not meant to say them! That warm feeling that started in his back had moved to his throat and taken over.
Before he knew it, his hands were moving on their own too. They were picking up the trash littered around him! His legs moved to, crawling his body across the concrete, and Lance couldn't do anything to stop himself.
His mouth wouldn't open when he tried! He wanted to scream! His arms and legs weren't doing what he wanted either. He was trapped in his own body! Lance couldn't speak; he couldn't run; he couldn't hide; he couldn't even panic. His own heart beat at a steady pace like he was the calmest man in the world! His lungs systematically drew in breath after calm breath, and his face was locked in an empty look of indifference...
Lance would have to get used to being around the trash. He was a garbageman now...
One Year Later...
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Lance had never imagined he'd be trapped as a garbage collector for this long. His body hadn't let him look back once since he walked away from his old life. Who knows what happened to his apartment and family. He'd long since given up on the idea of ever going back to his old life.
His days were now spent being puppettered to take out other people's trash. It was disgusting hard work that he got no thanks for, but that didn't matter. He wasn't in control of his body, and his body just kept lugging rank bags of garbage day after day after day.
He'd been subjected to millions of dirty looks as people caught sight of him. Lance knew he must seem pathetic. He was sure he smelled even worse. How could anyone respect a man like him? Even after a year, his face still burnt red when someone looked grossed out by him.
The discomfort of his uniform has become normal to Lance. It was itchy and humid under there, which made sense since it hadn't been washed in the all the time he'd had it on.
Well, that wasn't entirely true...
Every night after work, his body would hop on the garbage truck and get dropped off at the sanitation department's parking garage. There he and the rest of the garbage crew would hose each other down. It didn't do much other than make him cold, but at least he got that.
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After the makeshift shower, he and the rest of the guys would file into the garage. Lance assumed that every one of the laborers were being used as puppets like him, because they appeared just as numb and lifeless as he did. There was no chummy chitchat; there were no friendly waves or claps on the back; hell there wasn't even a smile or frown on any of their faces.
All the garbagemen acted like robotic slaves for unpaid labor, which is exactly what they were.
Lance's theory was that when he'd felt that pain a year ago, he'd had some sort of Syfy-futuritic-techno crap inserted in his back. It had to be controlling his actions. He could feel it on his spine, sending signals to the resto for his body for how to behave.
It was just a theory. He couldn't prove or disprove anything when he had no autonomy over his own body.
So he was stuck seeing himself play out the same awful routine everyday. 'At least the day's almost over,' he thought to himself. At least he could still dream of a life where he didn't wear this disgusting uniform and pick up garbage all day.
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Lance's body joined the rest of the men on the floor. This was where they spent their nights. Whoever was controlling them was clearly too cheap to buy them beds let alone showers or laundry machines
It usually got pretty bleak in there: a whole room of men that aren't allowed to talk or interact outside of working together. There was nothing else to do but sleep, so Lance slid down to the concrete and closed his eyes, wondering if he would ever be anything other than a smelly garbageman ever again.
He thought back to his old life, dreaming about that last morning run he'd gotten before all this happened. He fantasized about what would have happened if he'd just ran around the block one more time.
Would he have avoided this fate or was he just destined for menial crap like this?
Thanks for the Ask, workgearfan
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bristolbearpete · 7 months
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leatherdefender · 5 months
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davenporttf · 7 months
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Bear Trap
Jake was a total dick and he was fine admitting it. He had the body to compensate for his short temper and overall unlikeable personality. He liked to think of himself as a real tradie through and through. He didn't care what the other guys thought of him because he knew he could do the job of three men by himself. When it came to the ladies, he was fine cutting things off after they started getting feelings. "Who hurt you?" the last one said when he broke it off. He smiled and replied "That'd be you for having to listen to you."
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The crew had been working on a new apartment complex for a few weeks. The days were long and the middle of summer brought some very hot afternoons. Jake was working on installing a new water pipeline to the complex and removing the debris from all the jackhammering. They had been going at it since 7am and with the sun now beaming over him, he was feeling dehydrated. He forgot to bring his own water and was starting to regret it. He signaled over to the other guys that he was going to take a quick 15, and started walking towards the next door apartments.
Typically the neighbors next to their projects hated seeing them because of all the noise. He would see the dirty looks from the balconies but he would just wave at them to piss them off. Today he was going to play nice though, and beg for some water with a smile and an arm flex.
He went up to the first door and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, a loveable bear named Greg answered the door. He filled the door with his sturdy frame, and smiled at Jake. "Can I help you?"
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"Hey man, sorry to bother you but I forgot my water today. Could I trouble you for some?" Jake said with the most charming smile he could manage.
"Yeah, of course! Why don't you come in and cool off and I'll grab you some water. I have the AC on." Greg offered kindly.
Jake was not about to pass up some free AC despite his reservations. "Yeah sure. Thanks, man." He entered the studio apartment looking around at Greg's very tidy apartment. "Have a seat on the couch, I'll grab you something to drink" Greg said as he walked to his kitchen.
Jake continued to look around and noticed some of the pride flags posted around the living room. "Awe fuck, a fag. Just great." he thought to himself as he took a seat on the sofa. He didn't like how all the gay guys looked him up and down. He worked hard to look good for the ladies, and felt uncomfortable when men shot glances his way. He had the urge to leave but the AC was feeling great against his skin, so he shoved his disdain to the side.
Greg could sense the hatred from Jake, and his overall douchebag demeanor. He had seen him for a few days now arguing with his coworkers and catcalling the women walking by. He didn't like the ripped guys, and tended to go for bears like himself. He had been living alone for a few years and with the rent about to go up due to the complex being built nextdoor, he was struggling. He didn't have an extra room to split with a roommate, and he wasn't having much luck in the boyfriend department. In the kitchen, Greg came up with an idea to fix his problem. He pulled out a bottle of water from the back of the fridge that he bought from a specialty store he frequented.
Greg walked back into the room and handed Jake the bottle of water. "Here ya go! Feel free to enjoy the air for a bit. You guys really seem to be working hard out there." Jake didn't waste a moment, and started chugging the water. The water tickled going down his throat and the water tasted so refreshing. He continued to chug the water as a bubbly feeling developed in his abdomen. Gurgles began to become audible as his stomach started to expand outward. Jake could feel his waistline pushing out against his jeans becoming more uncomfortable by the second. The water was too refreshing to stop so with his other hand he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down to make room. Jake's pecs softened and inflated, losing definition. His arms became heavier with his biceps growing more doughy. His face rounded and lost it's definition with his chinstrap widening to a full beard.
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With one hand on his belly rubbing it for comfort, Jake finished the bottle and looked around at his new form. He wanted to be disgusted with himself but his grip on his prior life was slipping away. He was liking the way he felt more powerful by his size and ran his hands all over. He looked around at the apartment feeling more at home.
"You look good handsome." Greg complimented as Jake looked up at him. Jake could feel himself growing attracted to Greg, especially his handsome features. Memories of them meeting out by the construction yard surfaced. He was always on the heavier side and the crew loved how strong he was moving around the debris. Greg had walked by one day and he couldn't help but catcall him. Luckily, Greg was flattered and found Jake extremely attractive sweating in the hot sun. Moving in together was the greatest thing to happen to him, and it helped that they could split the rent.
Jake started to paw at the bulge in his briefs, thinking of how sexy his boyfriend was. "What's say we cool off more in the shower?" Jake said devilishly. He got up and walked over to Greg adjusting to his newfound size. He took Greg by the hand and lead him into the bathroom for some much needed fun.
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androtherika2 · 2 days
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rozz0 · 2 months
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rockportskin · 3 months
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gamer-crow · 9 months
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FUCK YES
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