Him Chapter 5
I was kneeling naked between His thighs, watching Him as he zipped up His pants and pulled down His shirt. I instinctively tried to wipe His cum from my mouth and nose by turning my face to my shoulder, my hands held back by the leather cuffs clipped around my wrists behind my back.
"Stop. I want that cum drying on your face when you leave."
"Yes, Sir."
He looked at His full quill ostrich, pointed-toe cowboy boots, moving them back and forth, examining them thoroughly.
"You know, I think my boots needs polishing."
I started to move backwards on my knees figuring he wanted me to polish His boots with my tongue as I have done before.
"Just a little more...stop."
I stayed there, not sure what He expected me to do. He then reached into a drawer in the table next to His chair and pulled out a jar of boot cream. He unscrewed the cap, stuck His middle fingers into it, and brought out a huge glob of the white cream. He then leaned over and wiped it on the toe of His right boot. He took another glob and reached under my balls and spread the boot cream around my hole and into it.
"Polish My boot with your hole."
I must have looked like I didn't understand.
"That's right. Sit on the toe of My boot so it can fuck you and get shined up at the same time."
He stuck His right leg between mine and pointed His boot straight up. I looked back at it and started to back up to get in the right location. I had to search for the boot with my backend not being able to feel for it with my hands, backing up and working my hole to where His toe was. When I found it, I worked my hole onto it, finding the right position to take it in. And then, when the toe hit just the spot, I lowered myself onto it. It slid in surprisingly easily as I twisted to take as much of it as I could and stayed there getting used to it.
"That boot isn't going to get polished with you just sitting on it like that."
I started to raise and lower myself on the boot.
"Look at me."
I did. I bobbed on top of the boot and twisted my hole around the toe, grinding onto the bumps of the quilled boot. I was getting lost in it, just experiencing the sensations, my hard dick bouncing and flailing around.
"Fuck. You are such a faggot. You should see yourself. You're being fucked by a boot and you're loving it."
He was right: I was indeed loving it.
"Stop and let me see how you've done on that boot."
I carefully raised myself up and He pulled His foot back to examine the boot. He took a rag and wiped the boot down.
"It needs more."
He stuck His boot back under me and I lowered myself back on the boot and re-started grinding and twisting into it. He leaned forward a bit, took some more boot cream, grabbed my dick, and started to slowly stroke it. This only made me grind and twist and fuck His boot more, the sensations putting me in another headspace. He would change His stroke: faster, slower, stronger, lighter, stopping, starting. I felt primal, knowing no other sensation or thought but intense sexual pleasure. I felt so free, liberated. We stared at each other, my grimacing stare being one of absolute submission to His touch, His analytical stare being one of total control knowing exactly how to make me do and feel whatever His whim. He had absolute control over my body and, through that, my thoughts and I absolutely craved it. Then, reality crept back.
"S-Sir..?
"You close to cumming, faggot?"
"Y-Yes, Sir! Oh, Sir, I'm so close!"
"If You can't control yourself, then go ahead, faggot."
His hand clamped down on my dick and my body went over the edge. My body strained and spasmed cum all over His Hand. I ground and twisted even more onto His boot. I felt like I would lose consciousness...and he continued the hard-gripping stroke only made easier by my cum. The sensations became more and more intense but He kept stroking and gripping, focusing on the head of my dick. The waves of orgasm passed and He continued. I tried to lean over His arm to protect my dick.
"BACK," He ordered.
I did and did my best to endure this torture. After what seemed forever, He stopped stroking but just held onto my dick and then let go. I sat there on His boot panting as He wiped the cum and boot cream from His hand all over my face, neck, and hair.
"Get off My boot."
I did and slumped back on my heels, still recovering.
He took the rag again, wiped the boot off, and took a good look at it.
"Not bad, faggot."
He stuck His right middle fingers into the boot cream jar again, spread it on the toe of His left boot, and stuck between my thighs.
"Now the other."