Date: Mon, 7 Jan 2013 14:08:57 -0800 (PST)
From: John Brant <bigengineers@yahoo.com>
Subject: Boots on the Ground in Africa - 5 Authoritarian/Interracial

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!