Boots on the Ground in Africa Chapter Five
Bob came into the room at 8:00 a.m. with my bowl of oatmeal. I was still asleep until I heard his booming voice: "What the hell? Are you still in bed? Get up you bloody bootlicker!" With that he pulled the blanket off my body. His sharp commands and urgent voice made me roll out of bed and fall to the floor next to his shiny Chippewa engineer boots. Bob took a few steps away from the bed and set the dog dish of food on the floor. Then he came over and kicked my ass, reminding me that Bob was a "kick ass" kind of man. "Get up and get dressed and eat your breakfast. I'm not hanging around, but I'll check on you through the window in the door and if you don't eat your food like a boot puppy, I'll kick the shit out of you."
I answered: "Sir, yes sir!" With that Bob left the room and I went into the bath room to shave and take another quick shower. Once I was alone without Bob barking at me or kicking my butt, I began to feel how stiff and achy my body felt from the "work out" I had experienced the previous day. The hot shower felt good and by the time I finished, I felt a good deal of the stiffness was gone. After putting on my harness, leather shorts, white athletic socks and black combat boots, I got down on all fours and ate my oatmeal out of the bowl. When I finished that I decided to make my bed, so there would be no excuse for any punishment when Bob returned.
At nine o'clock Bob unlocked the door and called to me: "OK asshole, let's go!" I quickly picked up the Captains 30 hole, black Ranger boots and walked over to the door. Bob grabbed my arm like a policeman walking an inmate to an interrogation room. He opened the door into the playroom and I carefully put the boots on the floor and then dropped to all fours. Bob leaned over and picked up the boots and then stepped behind me so he could deliver a strong kick in the ass, which had the desired effect of moving me toward the Captain. He was sitting in his big chair as usual, but what was different was that he was wearing double buckle Big Boss black engineer boots. These shit kickers are a favorite among motorcycle riders because of their steel toe and extra thick sole. I quickly began licking these new boots from a prone position.
"He likes these Big Boss engineers, doesn't he, Bob?"
Bob responded: "Yes sir, but will he like the feel of that massive boot up his ass hole?" With that both men let out a hearty laugh.
While I continued licking his boots, the Captain picked up his mug of coffee and took another sip. Bob took a seat in his chair and grabbed his unfinished mug of jo. After about fifteen minutes the Captain spoke again. "This is your last day, so we want to make it one that you will remember. Both Bob and I have a good collection of boots which we would like to show you and let you feel on your ass. We have selected them according to the style of boots you like which you noted on your application form. I think you are going to like this."
The Captain got out of his chair and started walking to the back of the room. When he took his first step I heard the heavy metallic clink as his heel hit the concrete floor. The Captain's Big Boss 18" engineer boots had horseshoe heel plates on them. As he walked to the back of the room each boot made a heavy, solid sound as it connected with the floor. The loud sound was most intimidating. As he strutted back, I could see that he had a pair of Corcoran combat boots. He dropped the boots on the floor and sat down. "OK boy, take off my Big Boss boots and lace up my classic Corcorans." With that I stood up with my back facing him and my legs slightly spread. I felt a powerful blow to my crotch as the Captain's right boot flew up into my crack. I curled my two hands around the heel of the boot and waited for his left boot to connect with my ass and give a big push. This happened almost immediately and the heavy Boss Boot slid off. Almost immediately the left boot was in my crotch, begging to be removed.
I carefully set both boots beside the Captain's chair and then reverently knelt down and began to fit the Corcoran boot onto the right foot. I carefully tucked his pants leg into the top of the boot and then began to carefully pull the laces. Soon the boots were laced up and the Captain said: "What are you waiting for, faggot? Get down there and start licking those boots." After twenty minutes the Captain was satisfied that I had put a good polish on his boots, for he said: "OK, Bob, get your Grinders. Our little boot slut here is in for a real treat today."
Bob came back with two 30 hole black Grinder King boots. These boots are even more intimidating than Ranger boots. Both are made in the UK for the Skinhead market. Most skinheads are looking for tough boots that they can use as weapons in a fight, because skinheads like to kick a man when he's down. Bob sat down again and placed the boots on the floor beside him. The Captain said: "Bob really likes his high shine Chippewas. They let people know he is a man that should not be messed with. However, I've bought him some other boots, because some of our clients like to be dominated by a black man wearing a particular style of boot. OK bootboy, remove his engineer boots and lace up his Grinders.
Once again I stood up with my back toward Bob and my legs spread. He kicked my crotch with a heavy boot and made a direct hit on my balls, causing me to gasp and bend over a bit. This elicited a good laugh from both men. I pulled on Bob's boot and it came off. I waited for another boot in the crotch, but this time Bob did not kick very hard.
I knelt before Bob and carefully took one of the 30 inch Grinder King boots. The shafts of the boot were made of stiff, heavy duty leather and the sole was extra thick. I carefully laced them up and then began to run my tongue over their smooth leather surface. As I began licking I heard the Captain say: "I've got to take a shit. I'll be back. Make sure that bootlicker does a good job." With that he picked up the garrison belt from the table, gave my ass a good stroke and handed the belt to Bob.
By 11:00 I had finished licking both of Bob's boots thoroughly. My tongue was beginning to feel raw from all the licking. The Captain had returned to the room a few minutes before that. He finally spoke and said: "Alright, now that we both have lace up boots on, it's time for a little boot fun. We wouldn't want our guest to leave without having a little boot play, would we, Bob?" Bob shook his head as the Captain continued. Let's have a little British Bovver Boot session for our boot slut. Just in case he doesn't know what that is, let me summarize. In the 1960's and 70's British skinheads liked to wear steel toed Grinder or Ranger boots when they went out. If they met up with a rival gang or met someone they didn't like, they would wrestle the lad to the ground and then start kicking the poor bastard with their heavy duty boots. They referred to this boot play as `bovvering' and their boots as bovver boots. The best defense is to curl into a fetal position and put your arms over your head for protection. Of course, we won't kick you in the head, but the rest of your body is fair game."
Bob led me to the center of the room and pushed me down. I had hardly hit the concrete floor when the Captain landed a good boot on my ass. This caught me by surprise so that I did not notice Bob circling around to my front. He let fly with a heavy kick that caught me right in the crotch. Thankfully he missed my balls, but it was a wakeup call. I then remembered what the Captain had said, so curled up on my side with my hands over my head. The Captain kicked my kidneys a couple of times...not hard, but hard enough to be felt. Bob circled around and began kicking my ass with his heavy Grinders. Meanwhile the Captain got to my front and began kicking my lower stomach, hoping to get his boot into my crotch. After five minutes or so they stopped and sat down. The Captain said: "OK boot slut, come over here and lick our boots. Start with Bob." It was noon when I finished. Bob escorted me back to my room and said the next session was at 2:00 p.m. I was surprised to find a nice sandwich and a beer on the table. I guess they wanted to leave a good impression of their food service with me when I left!