The Mechanic’s Apprentice – Part 1

Everyone in this story is 18+

 You've made your choice: Ryder will be pursuing an apprenticeship at a local body shop. I hope those who preferred a regular shop will still enjoy the story!

Polishing the Gearstick

The sun was dipping below the rooftops, casting that golden light over everything—the kind that made the whole day feel like it was fading out slowly, almost reluctantly. I got it, that feeling of not really wanting to be here. Not really.

I dragged myself up the creaky steps, my battered skateboard tucked under my arm. I didn’t want to be walking into the house, only to hear Mom start her usual speech about “responsibility” or “the future” or “just once, can you stay in school, Ryder?”

Sure enough, there she was, waiting in the hallway, arms crossed, her brow creased with that all-too-familiar look of frustration. She didn’t even need to say it—I knew what was coming.

“Ryder, we need to talk,” she started, her tone harder than usual, like she’d hit her breaking point hours ago. I rolled my eyes, already feeling the lecture before she’d even opened her mouth.

“Yeah, yeah. School called you. I missed class.” I shrugged, shoving my hands in my pockets and shifting my weight, trying to look like I didn’t care. “I’m fine, alright? I just… I don’t even want to be there anymore.”

She took a breath, but this time, something in her eyes flickered—a look I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just the usual frustration. There was something heavier behind it, something that made a pit start forming in my stomach.

“This isn’t working, Ryder. I can’t keep doing this.” Her words came out clipped, each one landing harder than the last. “I can’t be your babysitter anymore. If you really want to quit school, you have two choices. Either you go live with your dad, or you get a job.”

My stomach twisted at that. Living with my dad?

I let out a scoff, trying to cover up the unease churning inside. “My dad? You’re serious?” I shook my head, forcing a laugh. “What’s he even gonna do with me? Hand me a list of rules and pretend I don’t exist?”

But she didn’t flinch. Not this time. Her expression was set, her tone steady. This wasn’t just some empty threat. “Your choice, Ryder,” she said, voice soft but firm. “Either way, something has to change. I need you to step up.”

I felt the sarcasm rising, ready to fire back, but it suddenly felt… empty. She wasn’t wrong. I didn’t want to live with Dad, but I also didn’t want some nine-to-five, grinding out hours like everyone else. And yet, here I was, with no way around it.

“Fine,” I muttered, feeling my shoulders sag under the weight of it. “I’ll get a job. Just… lay off, alright?”

Her face softened a bit, like we’d struck some kind of truce. She nodded, her expression easing. “You start looking tomorrow, then,” she said, her voice gentler. “And I’ll give you some space. I have to get groceries anyway—someone’s been eating a lot again.”

“Okay!” I muttered defiantly, trying to hold onto the last shreds of attitude.

Mom wrinkled her nose as I leaned my skateboard against the wall. “And while you’re at it,” she said, “how about a shower? You smell like a foot, Ryder.”

I scowled, too tired to bother hiding the irritation flaring up in my eyes. “God, you’re such a bitch,” I muttered under my breath, figuring she wouldn’t hear—or maybe just hoping she wouldn’t care.

But she just raised an eyebrow, calm as ever. “Oh? Did you run out of nicknames for me?” A smirk tugged at her mouth. “Guess that one’s getting old, huh?”

I could only stare at her for a second, thrown off, before I looked away, huffing in annoyance. I hated how she had this way of not giving me the satisfaction of a real reaction. It was like I wasn’t getting under her skin at all.

“Whatever,” I mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear, and stomped off toward my bedroom. She just stood there, calm and steady as a rock—like she’d already seen every trick I had in the book and then some.

I slumped onto my bed, letting out a long sigh as I reached into my bedside drawer. Hidden beneath a stack of crumpled flyers and old guitar picks was a single, slightly crushed joint I’d been saving for a moment like this—when life seemed ready to shove me into a corner. Lighting up, I took a deep drag, feeling the warmth seep through me, calming the edges of my frayed nerves.

The thought of my dad’s house lingered in my mind like a storm cloud. As I exhaled, a memory flashed in my mind—down at the corner store, the local body shop had put up a flyer looking for an apprentice. Maybe it could be enough to get my mom off my back.

I took another drag, mulling it over. It wasn’t like I had a lot of other options. Most places around here wouldn’t be too thrilled to hire a kid with my… attitude.

“Guess it’s worth a shot,” I muttered to myself, my mind already drifting to more interesting things.

I flicked my phone open and shot off a quick text to my girlfriend: Hey, wyd? Wanna hang out this evening? Ma is working. I tossed the phone onto my bed and waited, glancing around my room, which looked like a tornado of clothes, posters, and skate magazines. The place was a mess, but I kind of liked it that way. Felt like me.

A buzz. I checked my phone. Yeah sure babe. A smirk crept onto my face. Well, at least that was something to look forward to. The anticipation made my pants swell up. I fished out my hard cock, almost seven inches, nestled by a thick bush. It was thick as well, with a large mushroom head beaming with a drop of pre already glistening at the slit.

I started pumping my shaft, catching the slight smell of musk, and began counting. I got to a hundred seconds before I felt my balls and dick tense up, my cockhead spewing cum onto my groin, abs, and pubes. “100 seconds,” I muttered to myself, satisfied. Not bad. Hopefully, now I won’t get so quickly excited with my girl later. Feeling the jizz start to cool, I grabbed my tank top to clean up, figuring it needed a wash anyway.

I raised my arm and gave my armpit a quick sniff. Not the worst thing I’d ever smelled. Figured I could survive without that shower Mom mentioned. I just pulled on a new tank top from the pile of clothes; this one smelled clean enough, I figured.

I wasn’t exactly hyped about it, but if it meant keeping my mom off my case, I could deal. Plus, maybe a little cash in my pocket wouldn’t hurt, either.

As I headed out the door, I wondered how long it’d be before I could get this over with and just chill with my girlfriend for the rest of the night.