Tim arrived at Uncle Bill's farm in the morning, for a short visit, during a scalding summer. He wanted to get away from college for a few days, and his parents convinced him to visit the farm. He hadn't seen his uncle since he was little, and he didn't know what to expect.
The strongest memory he had of that man was when Bill had showed up to his mom's birthday party, and called him a princess in front of his father. Tim remembered being upset for days, but he was used to being called names, growing up in a conservative neighborhood. The boys would call him a faggot, a pussy and a fruitcake, and give him wedgies and pull down his pants to humiliate him for not being manly enough.
Things got better when Tim went to college and met many smart, open-minded people from the metropolitan area. Meeting new people and having new experiences taught him that not every man was a bully or an asshole, but the fear remained, deep down.
This is why he felt intimidated while driving all the way to the countryside to spend time with a conservative man. He knew that his uncle was a big macho man through pictures of his family, and that Bill was always described as the tough guy, or the guy who would say inappropriate things.
"Don't worry, Tim. Bill is not a bad man," Mom had said on the phone. "He's just a little tough, but he has a good heart. Just try not to upset him with modern stuff."
As Tim reflected on things, he almost turned around and drove back to the city, but when he thought about the problems he was facing in college, and the conceited, rich boys he had to deal with all the time, the simple brute he had for an uncle suddenly seemed more attractive. Besides, Bill lived with his wife, Aunt Jane - a sweet woman who liked to send him gifts every year.
As soon as he arrived and walked out of the car, he heard a deep grunt coming from behind him.
"Ah! How's my nephew doing?" belted Bill. His voice was raspier and thicker than Tim remembered.
"Hey, Uncle Bill! It's good to see you," said Tim, shaking the man's big, warm hand.
Uncle Bill looked stronger and sturdier than ever. He was a dad in his fifties, with a big, balding head and bright, blue eyes, a big nose and a thick neck. He was overweight, but Tim could still spot some muscle behind his robust chest and juicy belly. His skin was red under the punishing sun, and his body emanated a hint of masculine sweat. He could not look more different than Tim and his slim body of a 22-year-old college boy.
"Still running around like a fairy?" asked Bill, while smiling and patting Tim on the shoulder.
"N-no, sir. I have new occupations," replied Tim, feeling immediately embarrassed.
His uncle laughed like a beast at his self-deprecation.
"Don't worry, kid. I don't mind having a gay boy in the family," said Bill, as he inspected Tim's modern appearance from top to bottom.
"Oh, thank God. I was concerned for a second," said Tim sarcastically.
Bill seemed unaffected by his sarcasm, and laughed harder in his face.
"Let me help you with your stuff," said Bill, walking toward his car and grabbing his backpack for him. "Follow me, Timmy."
Tim reluctantly walked behind his uncle, observing the way the man stomped the ground confidently, as if the world belonged to him - well, the farm did, he remembered.
"Where's Aunt Jane?" asked Tim, when he walked inside the spacious living room.
"She's visiting her sister. The poor thing suffered a hip injury last night and Jane had to fly to the hospital," explained Uncle Bill calmly. "She won't be back this week, I believe. So it's just us, Timmy," the man looked him in the eye and winked.
Tim felt immediately uncomfortable with that information. He tried to be tranquil and respectful, as Uncle Bill showed him around and described his life to him. Bill bragged about his two sons, who were both married now, and described the success of his bloodline. Tim just wanted to make an excuse to walk away and drive, but he was able to control himself.
"So, Timmy boy," barked Bill, when they walked into the kitchen. "Do you know how to cook?"
"Yes, sir... I cook a lot."
"I figured," the man smirked. "Y'know, I haven't had a proper meal since Jane left. Why don't you make us some coffee while I take your stuff to your room?"
"Sure, no problem," said Tim.
When he was left alone, Tim prepared the best coffee he could, in order to impress his asshole of an uncle. He heard the man walk back into the living room and turn on the TV. He found two mugs and filled them on a tray, and then went to the living room and served the man.
Bill was sitting comfortably on the couch, his thick, long legs spread wide. Tim noticed how big his uncle's boots were - his feet were probably huge.
"What took you so long?" asked Bill.
"Sorry, uncle," said Tim.
For the rest of the morning, the man told him more stories and asked many questions about his college life and his personal affairs. Tim felt extremely embarrassed to answer some of those questions, as he noticed his life was not that impressive. He didn't have a wife or a girlfriend, and he didn't own anything in particular, and the more he talked, the more Bill squinted his eyes and raised his eyebrows smugly.
Bill showed him around the farm, introducing him to some of his colleagues and employees - a bunch of virile hillbillies who gazed at him from top to bottom, and made him feel like a fancy city boy, and a few submissive wives with big smiles and large breasts.
Bill talked about Tim's father in great detail, describing their past adventures with women, always portraying himself as the leader of the pack, because he was the oldest brother. Tim learned that he was not required to talk much, and he just listened to his uncle's hoarse voice for hours.
Later that day, Tim was invited to eat dinner at a nearby house, but he insisted he could make dinner himself, and Bill seemed to entertain the idea.
"Well, then be a good girl and cook dinner for us. I'll be working outside," said Bill, with a mean smirk on his face.
Tim felt oppressed and upset, but for some strange reason he decided to play along. He used his aunt's kitchen to prepare the best meal he could, in order to impress his uncle somehow.
"Damn, boy. You cook like a woman," observed Bill, as they sat down at the table.
Unsurprisingly, the man ate the food like a hungry animal, taking good chunks of his chicken and devouring his rice in a few minutes. Tim did not eat much - all the toxic energy had left him dispirited. He could also smell his uncle's sweaty body in the room - Bill was working under the sun and did not bother to take a shower.
"Great food. Thank you for that, Timmy," the man noted, when he finished.
"Thank you, sir."
