Friday 3 June 2022

Fiction: Bootboy

The familiar sound of a Recon message pinged on my phone. It was early afternoon on a stormy October day and it was my rest day. I’d already filled my morning with the gym and a long walk, and now I was back home, horny and doing nothing else than browsing the Internet. As is typical, it was most likely someone miles away, but always worth checking out.

“Hi Sir”

Always a good start to a conversation. Thankfully not another faceless timewaster and a face looked back at me in the main profile picture dressed head to toe in full bike leathers and boots. The profile reported mid 40s, 90% passive, and the image showed a well kept beard and dark and grey hair. Attractive. Geolocation reported 1.6 miles away, but I rarely ever trust the accuracy of such systems.

The standard conversation ensued and interests were discussed. There were enough mutual interests in boots, uniform, breath play and heavy restraint for a meet to be suggested. He seemed even more interested when he discovered that the geolocation was fairly accurate and that I was soon to be driving past his holiday accommodation on another errand. He was especially turned on by riot uniform and body armour, so I packed up a large kit bag with as much uniform and toys as I could carry and decided to change into half uniform.

Pulling on a blue Bike jock, I got into my tight black uniform combat trousers, which showed off my butt without being too tight to work in and gave a pleasing bulge at the crotch. With the combats went my wicking polo shirt with epaulettes’ and embroidered POLICE logos across each sleeve; tucked into the combats and fastened with a two inch black leather belt (which could also be used for other purposes). Trousers tucked into polished Magnum hi leg patrol boots, laced up and ready for a tongue. My cock was already starting to twitch with the anticipation of a potential meet and the abuse I knew I’d be giving.

I wasn’t in bad shape for my late 40s, a solid based 6’2”, 200lbs muscular frame and shaven hair. I trained regularly to keep that muscle mass, and for efficiency of my job, and my muscular torso still got looks of admiration from younger guys in the gym.

Covering uniform with a jacket, I grabbed my kit bag and headed out. Final arrangements had been made by WhatsApp – a) there was one chance to meet with no excuses b) we could meet at a neutral place we both knew c) there was no shame in neither of us being compatible and walking away, but if he used the word Sir towards me then he consented to be owned for everything we’d discussed until we parted company.

Arriving at the rendezvous location, there was one other vehicle there, and a telecoms van with occupant in the driver’s seat. The driver looked similar to the profile but then I noticed the boy walking down towards the car park. The profile picture matched and there hadn’t been any misrepresentation going on, so I exited the vehicle my boots crunching on the loose gravelled surface and gave a nod of acknowledgement.

He came over looking nervous and greetings were exchanged. Disappointingly not in full leathers but he’d previously explained he was not a biker but had all the kit, but not with him. The workwear he was instead wearing showed an obvious bulge.

“Sir, I’d love to serve you, clean your boots with my tongue especially…”

“Then I’ll get my kit, and we can have some fun boy”

The sight of one guy in obvious uniform of some form getting a kit bag out of his car after meeting another guy and going off together must have given the telecom guy some amusement – but nothing was said or done. There would have been enough cuffs for both of them anyway…

Arriving back in the holiday home, we were alone in the stone floored living area.

No further pleasantries were exchanged, with one gaze and me pointing down he instinctively dropped to his knees and dropped his head. Very submissive looking, and my cock instantly responded in the confines of the jock.

“Wait boy”

Opening my kit bag, I took out my chest armour and strapped it on, then leg protection and arm protectors, leather gloves and finally pulled the silk balaclava over my head, and reached for the saddle leather restraints I’d packed. Made out of thick leather, although supple enough to be used for longer term all point restraint, with a metal clasp which slides through the leather and locks with a padlock.

I made quick work of wrapping the thick leather collar around his neck, purposely tight enough to be felt, before clicking a large heavy padlock into place. Lifting my knee onto the back of his head, I applied some pressure with my leg armour which made him push his forehead down towards the stone floor. Unsnapping my quik-cuffs from my belt, I lifted one of his hands and closed a cuff around his wrist and locked it shut, taking time to enjoy each click of the ratchet moving through the hinge. Taking the other wrist, I closed it into locked position.

Transferring to a standing position in front of him, looking down I could already see he was hard inside his workwear, and there was a stain of precum already starting to show. Pushing a Magnum boot onto his hard cock, I pushed down hard and he grunted in pleasure.

“See those nice tall black leather boots boy?”

“SIR, Yes”

I kicked into his cock and balls harder.

“You fucking boy, you’ll learn. How is it we talk to our boss?”

“SIR YES SIR”

“Far fucking better you fucking slave. You see those tall black leather boots boy? Do you think that black leather is going to smell good boy?”

“SIR YES SIR”

I rubbed my leather gloved hand all the way down one side of my boot, across the toe cap, and back up the other side. Placing it next to his nose, I wanted to raise his expectations to their highest before this tongue would be allowed a reward. Sliding my leather glove down over his mouth, I pushed a finger against his lips, and pushed the leather gloved finger into his mouth. I felt his tongue tasting right round the invading object. When wet with spit, I removed the finger and applied pressure to his mouth and nose and clamped it shut.

When I could feel him beginning to struggle for breath, I unclamped my hand and put pressure on the collar.

“Want to taste that boot boy, feel your tongue across that shiny leather?”

“SIR YES SIR”

“Think you should be allowed to service that boot and make it nice and wet and shiny like it should be?”

“SIR YES SIR”

“Then down on the ground and get that fucking tongue to work slave”

Still with wrists in quik-cuffs behind his back, it’s always a challenge for a boy in such a position to leverage into a good boot licking position unless he’s very flexible. Quik-cuffs don’t allow flexion in the wrists because of the rigid centre piece. But he managed admirably to drop his lips to the toecap of my outstretched leg.

The tongue extended, and pushed against the boot and started taking long sweeping motions across it. I swear I could feel the pressure of his tongue through the toecap. Long, wet strokes across the beautiful pungent shiny black leather. It looked just beautiful. Whilst he worked his way across the toecap, I straddled over him, and fastened the saddle leather wrist restraints around his wrists and padlocked closed. His tongue moved from the toecap to the edge of the sole, where he continued pushing his tongue hard into the stitching line with every movement. This was a well trained bootboy and my cock was straining against the uniform.

“Taste good boy?”

“SIR YES SIR” without missing an inch of the boot leather. Every inch was getting worked. The toecap was shining was spit, and his tongue traced from the stitching up the ankle to the top of the calf.

“Please soles too SIR”

Applying the key to the rigid handcuffs, I released his wrists to allow better positioning to continue his boot service. I took a seat on a plain chair and extended my boot to his new position crouched on his haunches. His hands extended out to support my boot and the tongue once again extended this time onto the sole of my boot. Again I could feel the pressure of his tongue covering every inch of the grass and dirt covered soles, even paying attention to the ridges between the moulded sole.

“Shirt off boy, show me some tits I can abuse”

Dutifully he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing an in shape chest with two pert little tits sticking out ready for my abuse. As he went about this boot service, I leaned back and enjoyed the moment. My cock was swollen inside the jock, and I slowly stroked it through my uniform. He kept giving tongue service to my boot but looked up at my crotch clearly wanting the rewards within.

He worked down the sole covering every inch from the toe to the mid section and heel, and then again onto the toecap over the course of a full fifteen minutes. This boy liked his boots, and this was a fucking hot scene. I jerked my meat through my uniform but didn’t want to go too far too quickly. There was now a large stain of precum on his crotch which was spreading more with each moment.

One boot had been serviced, it was time for a change of scene.

Briefly standing I once again clipped a padlock to the wrist restraints and clipped them together behind his back. Returning to a seated position, I took my toecap and stomped and lightly kicked his obviously hard cock through his trousers.

“Enjoying serving this cop’s boot leather boy?”

“SIR YES SIR”

“What do you say boy for being allowed to get hard and spit shine that delicious boot leather?”

“SIR?” the penny dropped “SIR THANK YOU SIR”

“That’s how every boy should respond.”

I increased the pressure on my stomping and kicking to his crotch, but he didn’t pull away.

“Bootboy nice and turned on like the fucking pig he is then?”

“SIR YES SIR THANK YOU SIR”

With my gloved hand, I reached down and took rough hold of his swollen cock inside the blue workwear, now with a beautiful precum patch which had spread to a few centimetres. Unable to play with himself due to the wrist restraints, I slowly started jerking him off still clothed, gradually enjoying increasing the pace. His moans and increase in breathing showed he was enjoying this forced milking, but I wasn’t going to let him get any release yet.

“That swollen cop crotch look good to you boy?”

“SIR YES SIR”

“Think it will smell of hot cop cock?”

“SIR YES SIR”

“… and taste just as good as those black leather boots?”

“SIR YES SIR”

“…then use your mouth and tongue and suck me through my uniform boy like a good slave”

He leaned forward, and buried his face in my crotch. I could see him taking in the scent of my uniform and the cock inside. With his talented mouth, he identified my cock inside the uniform and started chewing on it, trying to sweep from the base to the tip inside the riot kit. With my still leather gloved hand, I put pressure on the back of his head like I was face fucking him still fully clothed. Again his tongue extended and starting tasting and licking the uniform fabric and following the line of my cock. He got his head right in there and tried to chew on my balls, and took in the scents.

I could feel his spit wetting the front of my uniform, and my cock was fully aroused by this well trained mouth.

He made an attempt to take the zip in his mouth to get to the rewards inside, but I wanted to keep his anticipation going even more before he would taste me.

I brought my leather riot gloved hand across his face in a light slap.

“You haven’t worked hard enough for that reward yet boy”. There was a look of momentary disappointment but he understood.

Still seated, I reached for my kit bag, and took out a rubber S10 gasmask with attached hood and breathing hose. Purposely unzipping it and attaching the breath hose in front of his face, I dropped it right on his crotch, took off my gloves, and used the leather as a temporary gag by pushing it into his mouth.

“You think you’re gonna enjoy being strapped and locked into this rubber hood boy?”

“SIR YES SIR”

“Think it’s gonna smell nice in there, with the smell of rubber and sweat from previous bootboys?”

“SIR YES SIR”

Taking the keys from my belt, I unclipped the existing padlock of his collar, and took it off. It was pleasing to see a red mark where the tight collar had been worn. Pulling the gas mask up and onto his face, I made sure it was in the right position, and pulled the rest of the hood over the back of his head. I knew the pungent smell of the rubber and coolness as it strapped on would have turned this boy on even more, and I could see his hardon. Pulling the back zip shut, I fastened the collar, and put a padlock through the buckle.

Reaching down with one hand, I took one of his tits in my hands and squeezed hard.

“This boy like his tits being tortured too then?”

“SIR YES SIR” from inside the hood.

I applied various pressure, twisting and squeezing to his tit, gradually increasing the intensity to see when he flinched. To my surprise, he didn’t, so I kept in adding the pressure and roughness. It was standing erect, and reddened by my abuse. With my increasing pressure, he was moaning inside the hood, and the precum was again spreading. I put the heel of my boot on the top of his cock and scraped across it whilst switching to the other tit.

Whilst distracting him this time abusing the other tit, I clamped my hand over the breathing tube hard to cut his air flow. He lasted a good number of seconds before the panic reflex started kicking in and the begging for air started. With both tits now swollen and red, I let them recover for a while. I let the air rush into the hood, and received a “SIR THANK YOU SIR” in appreciation. Over the next ten minutes, I controlled his breathing and had him gasping into the hood.

Allowing him time to recover, I quietly soaked a cotton wool pad in poppers, and then covered the breathing tube with it and screwed in a filter. He had no option in his restrained state but to take in the vapours and get the high that came along with it. At the same time, I returned to working his tits more, which this time was met by plenty of moaning.

Allowing him fresh air once again, I worked his tits even more, and I could see his cock straining against his workwear. Jerking him off, he was harder than ever, and moaning for release. I could feel his cock pulsating inside the workwear, and I gradually increased the pressure and speed of my strokes. But just when I could feel him pulsing more and breathing heavier, I stopped and left him kneeling without any influences.

“You wanna be allowed to shoot your load boy?”

“SIR PLEASE SIR”

“Not anywhere near yet boy, if I let you shoot your load at all”

There was a sound which I could only describe as a whimper.

Taking my hands, I clamped them around the front of the hood collar, putting pressure where I knew was effective. It took him by surprise but he was in no position to resist in his restrained, high and kneeling state. Being skilled at the right location, a few seconds later, his eyes started to glaze and he verged on passing out. Releasing the pressure, I let the blood rush back to his head, reviving him in an instant rush of adrenaline. Surprise, dazed, completely controlled and very very horny.

I unlocked the hood, and removed it so I could see his eyes, which were more burning with desire than ever.

“You like being completely owned by a cop boy?”

“SIR THANK YOU SIR. Please knock me out SIR”

Now uncollared, I found the required spot, and again did the necessary, this time pushing the boy a little further until I felt him pass into the relaxed state. It looked like his cock was going to burst out his workwear. I’d hit a real trigger for him.

As he returned to reality, I widened my legs so that he was kneeing between them, and I show him some tenderness by stroking his beard, and gently played with his tit.

Once he’d recovered a little, I stood and again presented my crotch. This time, I unzipped and exposed by filled jock for his tongue. No prompting was necessary and he leaned forward and started sucking me through the jock. I could feel his tongue on the tip of my cock through the jock, and his spit working up the length of it.

Pulling down the jock, I freed my cock from its confines, and it sprang to full length. His tongue extended and made contact with the glans, tracing a line round the tip before taking a single lick of the precum that made it moist. He leant forwards, and took the length into his mouth, applying just the right amount of pressure to give me maximum stimulation. He swallowed it down whole and then started working the entire swollen length into this throat.

Taking the opportune moment, I slapped him across the face.

“Not time for your reward quite yet boy. Keep that mouth open. If you waste a drop, then you won’t be cuming today boy”

With my meat fully erect and getting close to the point of unloading my cream, it took some concentration before I was able to aim into his mouth and let my stream of hot piss flow. The golden liquid filled his mouth, and then when he could hold no more, it was swallowed down in gulps. Of course, mid stream I knew this would mean some would be wasted. A second and third mouthful was taken before I finished, with some wasted down his chin.

“Well, no cuming for you it is today then boy.”

The hot scene in front of me once again turning me on and once again using the willing mouth in front of me meant I was soon fully erect once again and using his mouth. I unclipped the padlock from behind his back to allow better access, and started thrusting into his mouth. Taking his head forcefully I pushed my cock right into this throat, and he gagged, but soon got used to it. When I was fully erect, I jerked myself, whilst he sucked on my balls, and I could feel that I was getting close.

Once again the tongue was put to good use, darting round the head and hole and giving me maximum stimulation.

“PLEASE SIR”

It was at the stage where his handsome slave bootboy on his knees willing to take all he was given was turning me on to the level I couldn’t hold back any longer. Back to using his throat, and the stimulation meant there wasn’t long to wait thrusting and him gagging before I fired my hot white load deep into his throat. He gagged at the moment, but then swallowed it down like a good boy should. He sucked out every drop he could before the tongue once again darted across my cockhead to clean any remaining cop juice from the source.

Letting my breathing return to normal, I slumped onto the chair, my cock still hanging out of its jock.

“You want permission to cum boy?”

“SIR YES SIR PLEASE SIR”

“Boys who waste boss piss don’t get to cum boy. Cumming denied you can fucking learn to be good boy”.

As I regained my composure, I cleaned up and straightened my uniform. My boots were shining. I was pleased. I released he hadn’t even fully undressed, and I’d not allowed him permission to cum.

“So boy? How long you on holiday for?”