Date: Tue, 25 Dec 2012 02:44:36 -0800 (PST)
From: John Brant <bigengineers@yahoo.com>
Subject: Boots on the Ground in Africa - 1

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.