To the reader:
This is another work of fiction in my series of boot fantasies that I have submitted to Nifty Archive. If you appreciate men in boots, I hope you will enjoy this story.
Boots on the Ground in Africa Chapter One
As my British Airways 777 touched down at the Nairobi, Kenya airport I wondered if I this time I had gone one step too far in search of the ultimate boot experience. I've been a boot slut for more than thirty years and during that time I have had some fairly exciting sessions with different boot masters in places like New York, Chicago, San Francisco, London, Brussels and Berlin. But here I was in Africa seeking a new high in boot sex.
As we deplaned and walked up the jet-way, I saw a big, burly Kenyan soldier standing on one side with a rifle in his hands. Immediately my eyes dropped to the floor and were rewarded with a pair of heavy duty black combat boots with a huge toe cap that had been spit-shined. My cock did a little twitch at such a beautiful sight. I wanted to stop right there and go down on that soldier's boots, but I knew that was impossible. When I got to the door into the terminal there was another soldier. He was not quite as tall, but his boots were spit-shined not only on the toe but up the shafts, too.
I followed the crowd to the passport control. As I stood in line I spotted an armed guard in a different uniform. I learned later from my host that he was an administration policeman. He wore a plain khaki uniform, but like the soldier he wore lace up combat boots which he had spit-shined. Once again my cock began to stiffen. All I wanted to do was to go down on that man's boots and give them a good boot licking. I managed to restrain my desires and got my passport stamped instead.
Next stop was the baggage claim area and customs hall. I went to the carrousel for my flight. As soon as I positioned myself to grab my bag, I noticed that the room was filled with about a dozen armed guards. These men were different from the policeman and the soldier. I found out later they were members of the much feared General Service Unit (GSU) which is a para-military outfit like army rangers, but a little more ruthless. They are to protect the President and also keep order at public events like football games. About ten feet away from me stood one of these men in his green uniform and red beret. Automatically my eyes dropped to his boots and I was not disappointed. He too was wearing black combat boots, although they looked like they had a thicker sole and the toe cap was raised a bit higher like maybe it was a steel toed boot. Once again my cock responded to the boot "eye candy" at which I was gazing. Since there were no bags on the carousel I continued to stare at those powerful boots. The carousel began with a jerk and as I looked up I noticed that the man in the red beret was watching me. I felt a bit self conscious but made myself busy watching for my bag. Once again I found out later that the reason for the heightened security was that Kenya had invaded neighboring Somalia and had already suffered a couple of terrorist attacks. Although I didn't know the reason for all those boots on the ground, I decided that Nairobi Airport was a boot boy's paradise.
After collecting my suitcase I walked past the customs desk and into the arrival hall where there was a mob of taxi drivers who were restrained behind a rail. Along side them were drivers for various safari operators. They were dressed in field green uniforms or khaki and each was holding a sign board with the name of a client on it. As I began walking toward the exit, my eyes were drawn to a big man of about six foot two. He was wearing a khaki officer's shirt with epaulets and khaki pants. Below his pants were shiny black, 20 hole black Ranger boots. With all the other boots in the airport, his Rangers did not look out of place. He too was holding a sign and it had my name on it. I signaled to him and he pointed at the exit, where we met. He greeted me and told me to follow him to the car. Unlike most limo or taxi drivers, this guy did not offer to carry my suitcase or carry-on. So, I just followed him and dragged my luggage behind me.
Once in the car I tried to make conversation, but he answered with a yes or a no. Finally he said: "When we get to the stockade, Mr. Hauptman will answer all your questions. So, just sit back and enjoy the ride. When we get closer to the stockade, I will ask you to put these eye shades over your eyes and lie down on the back seat. It is not necessary for you to know our exact location." After a while I was told to put on the eye covers and lie down. As I lay on the backseat I began to fantasize about all the combat boots I had just seen. I could picture myself servicing the boots of those men with my tongue while a couple of them stood behind me kicking my ass with their powerful boots urging me to work faster.
The car came to a stop and the driver said I could sit up and remove my eye shades. He then ordered me to get out of the car. He opened the car's trunk and I quickly concluded that it was my job to carry my own luggage again. I then followed him into the house, which was a rather large structure with perhaps 5 or 6 bedrooms. He showed me to a room in the back of the house. The door looked like a prison cell door with a small window to see what was happening inside the room. He opened the door and said: "Change your cloths now. Get into you harness, leather shorts and combat boots, which you were told to bring. I'll be back to get you in five minutes and then you will meet Captain Schmidt."
I quickly did as I was ordered. Five minutes later the "driver" was back, but instead of his khaki uniform and Ranger boots, he was wearing a thick harness top, cod piece and black leather chaps which were tucked into 18" high shine Chippewa engineer boots. In his left hand he had flogger. As he filled the doorway with his powerful frame, my mouth dropped open and my cock began to grow. "Come over here, boot slut." As I approached he grabbed my upper arm with his right hand and began to steer me into the hall, much like a cop handling a prisoner. He propelled me down the hall until we reached a door at the end. He knocked twice and then opened the door.
As he pushed me inside I could see the room was about fifteen by twenty feet in size. Along one side were pegboards with various leather toys, whips and butt plugs. At the far end was a captains chair and sitting in it was a white man of average build. He was wearing a black leather officer's shirt and black leather pants tucked inside eighteen inch Wesco engineer boots. As he stood up he said: "I see you've brought our visitor, Bob. Help him assume the right posture and then guide him over here."
With that my handler (who now had a name) pushed me down to my knees and said: "Crawl over to the Captain." And with that he gave me a powerful kick in the ass with his shiny Chippewa engineer boot. As I began slowly crawling in the direction of the Wesco Big Boss engineer boots, I felt another kick on my right ass cheek followed by a kick to my left ass cheek. In a matter of seconds I was staring at the toes of two heavy duty engineer boots. Above me a voice said: "Welcome boot licker. We hope to give you the most exciting boot experience you've ever had, based on the two day package you ordered. It's going to involve a lot of training and the kind of pain which will make your cock hard as a rock. The only rule to remember is that the safe words are `Code Red'. If you say those words we will stop whatever treatment is in progress. Now get your fucking tongue on the toe of my boot and start licking." With that I felt another kick in the ass from Bob. His boot connected with such force that I found my mouth within inches of the Captain's boot.
Licking his boot gave my tongue a thrilling sensation. My tongue caressed the smooth black leather as my nostrils inhaled the aroma of tanned leather. I slowly moved my tongue across the commanding toe, covering it with a thin coating of my saliva. But I was not allowed much time to savor the experience before the Captain said: "Lick faster, boot slut." This was followed by two more kicks by Bob's heavy engineers.
I picked up the pace and had the right toe glistening in no time. "Now the shaft. I want to feel your tongue through the leather. Lick harder." Another boot to the ass from Bob helped me to move on quickly to the eighteen inch shafts. Obviously the Captain took good care of his boots or rather had a lot of clients who knew how to polish and service his boots, as the leather was smooth and well waxed. I licked the boot with long strokes from the heel up to the top of the shaft. As I licked my cock continued to get hard. Unfortunately my leather shorts had it squeezed into a tight position. I really needed to pull my cock straight inside my shorts so it could expand comfortably. I made the mistake of reaching into my pants with my right hand, which caught the Captain's eye.
"What the hell are you doing?" he roared. "I didn't tell you that you could stroke your cock. Get his hand out of there, Bob." With that Bob yanked my hand out of my shorts and this was followed by another kick but this time to the right kidney.
Fortunately I had been able to reposition my cock so that it was free to engorge itself without being pinched. After licking the right boot I began to work on the left one. Unfortunately my tongue was getting a bit dry so I was slowing down in my licking. This did not go unnoticed by the Captain who said: "Bob, this slut is slowing down. See if you can encourage him with your whip." With that Bob twirled his flogger and I felt four strokes crossing my back. Fortunately they were not hard, but they did give notice to pick up the pace.
As I completed the second boot my cock was hard as a rock. I wanted so badly to stroke it, but didn't dare. Obviously the Captain sensed how aroused I was. He eased himself into his chair and then said: "OK, kneel here in front of me." As I straightened up into a kneeling position, my cock formed a big bulge in my shorts. Just then the Captain moved his boot into my crotch and began rubbing my engorged tool. As I looked down and saw that powerful boot on my cock and balls and felt the rubbing of the boot sole on my package, I began to moan. "You like that, boot bitch? Of course you do. You like the feeling of my heavy engineer boot on your fucking prick, don't you?" With that he picked up the pace of his boot massage. Then he began to lightly kick my balls and thick cock. The feeling was erotic. The Captain said: "Bob, I think he's about to cum. I don't want him handling his dick. You grab it and help him shoot his load." With that Bob squatted next to me and undid my belt and opened my leather shorts. He pulled out my cock and began to stroke it up and down with his powerful hand.
The feeling of Bob's hand on my cock was almost too much, but I tried to hold back, as I wanted to prolong the ecstasy for as long as possible. However, I couldn't hold out for very long before I shot my load. As I began to cum, the Captain moved his boot closer and Bob directed my first spurt right onto the shaft of the Captains boot. As I continued to pump out fuck, he directed the flow to the toe and then to the other boot. What a beautiful sight: globs of white fuck on polished black leather.
I didn't have time to enjoy the site before the Captain ordered: "OK bootlicker. I want to see you work that fuck into the leather with your tongue. I want you to then lick up all that jizz and leave my boots clean and shiny. With that I lowered my lips and began licking like a madman. As I began to service those powerful boots with my tongue and using my own fuck, I felt my cock starting to get hard again. Truly I was in boot heaven.
Continued in Chapter Two.