Living Under the Boot of Rick – Country Boy Domination |Part IV Author: JB jbcountry@yahoo.com
NOTE: All characters portrayed in this story are a work of fiction. It contains ideas and scenarios sexually graphic and intended for a mature (18+) reader only!
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Part IV
Tommy found no sleep. What a fuck up he was! He was given an order; a simple order at that, and he managed to fail. As a result he had earned his third strike. Rick's initial warning echoed in his mind, `Don't get three strikes fag; don't get three strikes!'
Once he gave up on sleep, he went to the kitchen for some cereal. Perhaps a bowl of generic Corn Flakes would help his day. He sat down at the kitchen table, only eating a little. His appetite; like his ability to sleep, had vanished. Tommy spaced out mindlessly staring into the now soggy breakfast he had prepared when his mom came in from her night shift.
"Hey kiddo, how are you?"
"Fine." Tommy's muttered in a low, depressed tone.
"You don't sound fine. Are you sure everything's alright?" His mom sat down in the chair beside him.
Tommy sighed, "Just a crappy day yesterday."
"Awe sweetie that sucks; but it happens. Just wait until it's all work and no play; sometimes I feel like a slave to the man."
Tommy chuckled, "Yeah, sometimes I feel that way too."
"Speaking of `the man,' have you been paid yet?"
Tommy replied, "No, not yet. I think I get paid today."
"That's good. Try and get it cashed because our cell bill is past due; okay?"
"I will mom."
"Okay then; I'm off to bed."
"Sleep well." With that Tommy's mother drug herself to her room. `If only a past due cell phone bill was my biggest problem,' Tommy thought to himself.
At school he saw Rick in the parking lot talking to Jack. Jack was Rick's best friend. Both jocks wore their football jerseys tucked into their tights jeans. Rick was of coarse wearing his boots and Jack's kicks were Nike Airs. Jack's body was cut and lean but he lacked the muscle mass and definition of Rick's god-like physique. Tommy started his walk to the school; he couldn't help but notice Jack turn his attention and stare at him. Was he part of their conversation; or was he just being paranoid? He made haste to the school and passed Todd (the school bully) in the hall way. Tommy was surprised when Todd just looked away and said nothing to him. `I guess Rick's talk with him was a real solid for me,' Tommy thought. His life was so much better now that he served Rick. It had meaning and purpose now. All these thoughts made him feel even worse about his failure.
Throughout the day Tommy's nerves got the better of him. He dared not go to the football game. He took advantage of Rick's game to finish his barn chores early; during game time. He made sure Tank's stall was bedded fresh with clean water. After he was finished Tommy grabbed his check off the bulletin board. He figured he would get his payroll check cashed somewhere the next day. (Rick's family checks in this town was as good as cash to the community.) His mom would at least be pleased with him.
Saturday morning life seemed a little better. Tommy slept in. It was 10:45 when he finally drug himself out of bed. Yet, he still did not want to face Rick. Perhaps a couple of days of cooling off would make all the difference. Tommy went to town to cash his check at the local check cashing/loan shark office. He planned to arrive at the barn early; perhaps he could miss Rick again. He knew he would have to face him sooner or later; but it didn't have to be today! Tommy treated himself to lunch at Dairy Queen. He had worked hard and finally had a little cash of his own. He was halfway through his hamburger when his phone buzzed. Be at the barn at 10.' Shit,' tommy thought. `I guess today was the day to face Rick.' With that Tommy tossed the rest of his burger basket in the trash. He lost his appetite again.
Given Rick's new orders Tommy planned his work schedule to finish up around 10:00pm. He was nervous but he also looked forward to this lesson' being over with. Tommy finished his work at 9:45 and waited. 10:00 came and Tommy felt his blood pressure rise pondering on what Rick had planned for him. 10:15 came and still no Rick. "I'm giving him five more minutes," Tommy lied to himself. 10:30 came and went. Perhaps this is my punishment,' Tommy thought, Waiting here all night.' No such luck. He heard the faint sound of a diesel engine in the distance. It was definitely Rick. Rick drove up to Tommy who was standing with his head down and heart racing. Rick's window was down and he wasted no time, "In. now!" Tommy climbed into the bed of the truck. Rick drove down the long gravel driveway, past his house, and back to the main road. Where are we going?' Tommy wondered.
They did not travel far. Rick turned down a dirt road. Tommy assumed they were still on a part of his family's farm. Rick drove to a different barn Tommy had never seen before. This one was much older than the nice stable but it was in sound condition. Rick got out of his truck and walked to the barn door. He worked the combination padlock securing a large chain on the doors. "Come on, fag," Rick ordered. Just inside Rick turned on the barn lights. It was not illuminated very well but Tommy could see. Tommy was no hunter but he knew enough to understand what this barn was used for. There was three separate cable hoists secured to the barn rafters. They were spaced evenly about half way down the hallway. A glass cabinet fixed to an old stall wall displayed several knives. A table below had an assortment of ropes, tie downs, and a small chain. The barn was used to dress and drain the hunter's kills.
Rick turned to face Tommy and commanded him to kneel. Tommy was nervous but he complied. He did not want to upset Rick any more than he already was. Rick walked over to the table and grabbed a short piece of rope. He returned to Tommy and stood in front of him and said, "Lucky for you my old man just gave me the `I messed around when I was your age' speech and lectured me on the evils of drinking when you're upset. If it had been much more than that then you'd be in real trouble. Hands up."
Tommy stuck his hands up and Rick tied them securely together. Rick was a seasoned country boy: rider, roper, and hunter. The knot was tied quick and tight. Tommy knew the only way out of those ropes was by Rick's mercy alone. Rick gave no verbal commands but pulled Tommy up off his knees by his bound hands and led him to one of the hoists. After Tommy's ropes were secured to the hook Rick pulled the ropes suspending Tommy just off the ground. Tommy's toes barely brushed the barn floor. "I forgot something," Rick said and went back to his truck. When he returned he was holding up one of his gym socks. Rick held it to Tommy's face and said, "This is rank, but you're gonna need it." It was rank! Tommy began to wonder if Rick ever washed his socks. "Open," Rick commanded. Tommy did knowing that the vile sock would be stuffed in his mouth. And it was.
Standing in front of Tommy Rick asked, "Fag you know why you're here?"
"Mmmhuh," was the only affirmative response Tommy could give.
"I promised you discipline bitch and that's what I aim to deliver." With that Rick loosened his belt and pulled it off of his tight jeans. Then he loosened Tommy's jeans, walked behind him, and pulled Tommy's jeans and underwear down to his ankles.
Tommy whimpered.
"Remember fag, this hurts me a lot more than it hurts you." Rick chuckled. Tommy was not convinced.
Rick took a strong stance just behind Tommy and with his belt looped in his hands he swung.
SMACK. Rick's belt to his ass was a direct hit. Tommy could not believe the intensity of the lash. Pain radiated from his ass. His scream was muffled by Rick's sock but loud just the same. SMACK. The second lick felt harder than the first. Tommy's scream had barely tapered off before intense pain cause another yelp. SMACK. Tommy bit hard into Rick's disgusting sock, sobbing into its harsh odor. Rick's rhythm had stopped. Tommy was relieved because he couldn't take any more licks from Rick's belt. "Hang in there fag, only seven more." SMACK. Tommy's nose and eyes watered; his muffled scream was constant now. His toes danced off the ground but he could not gain footing to move. He was at the complete mercy of Rick and his leather belt. Tommy lost count. Rick's lashes ended at ten but it felt like hundred.
When they stopped, he heard Rick threading his belt back into his jeans. Tommy just hung there like a slain deer. Another trophy taken by Rick. His ass throbbed! It felt as if it was on fire. The licks had stopped but the intense pain was ever present. Rick pulled out a folding chair and sat down examining the fruit of his labor. Tommy's ass was bright red; ten whelps crisscrossed all over it. Sweat was beaded on Tommy's bare skin. Tommy thought he would pass out but he just hung by his arms, head down, sobbing around his rank gym sock. Rick pulled his Skoal can from his back pocket and pack it. Then he packed his lip and chilled. Tommy felt abused and degraded but he surprised himself. For as he considered his present situation, he could only think, `I deserve this.'
Rick finally stood up and stared down Tommy eye to eye. (Suspended off the ground the two were now the same height.) Rick pulled his sock from Tommy's mouth and asked, "Did we learn our lesson?"
Tommy was whimpering and his breathing was labored but he responded, "Yes master."
Rick said nothing for a few seconds and then asked, "what, no `thank you' for the lesson?'"
"Thank you master; I'm sorry, thank you. Thank you." Tommy said panicked.
"It a little late now faggot." Rick untied the rope from its anchor on the wall and Tommy fell to the ground. Rick spat on him. It was a direct hit to the side of his face. Rick walked to his chair and pulled it back about twenty feet. He sat down and extended his booted feet out toward Tommy. "Crawl over here and thank me proper now. Lick the shit off my boots."
Tommy's hands were still tied but he slowly crawled toward his master's chair. Tommy's ass remained on fire and exposed because he could not pull them back up. When he reached Rick he was on his stomach prostrated before him. Rick pulled his left boot in and raise his right one off the ground. "A little closer fag, I want to be comfortable." Tommy moved in a little closer. When he did Rick dropped his right boot on top of Tommy's tied hands. Tommy inched his body a little closer and then he began licking. It was nasty. Mud and horse shit was packed between the treads. It was an uncomfortable position for Tommy and the swipes with his tongue made little progress. Rick spit again and Tommy felt it land on the back of his neck. "Boy you better put your back into it and hurry up. I'm gonna inspect this boot soon and if I'm not satisfied back up you go for another ten stripes. Terror struck Tommy at Rick's very real threat. Tommy dove mouth first into the top of Rick's boot bottom scraping it with his teeth. He actually sucked each boot tread slurping down any and everything attached to them. He then quickly polished each side of the treads with his tongue and cleaned between them as best he possible could. His stomach rolled and the taste was apprehensible but Tommy never slowed down.
Once Rick was satisfied with Tommy's urgency to his boots he got his phone out of his pocket, snapped a few pics, and then started playing a game. Tommy listened to the tones of Rick's game and understood the complete indifference Rick had for the beaten faggot licking his boot treads clean. When he was finally finished he picked his head up and swallowed any boot crap left in his mouth. Rick paid little attention to Tommy. He just picked his right boot up and place his left boot back on Tommy's hands. Much to Tommy's dismay his left boot had as much, if not more, crap lodged in its treads. No matter; he fucked up and now he was paying the price. Rick's boots were worth more than him so he started the cleaning process over on his left boot. During the entire process Rick paid little attention to Tommy except for spitting his tobacco spit anywhere in his direction.
Tommy was nearly done with Rick's left boot when he put his phone away. Rick looked down on his faggot and said, "Let me see that tongue." Tommy raised his head and stuck his tongue out. It was brown and full of debris. His teeth were also stained brown and dirt was lodge between them from scrapping the mud. "There's a good fag," Rick said degradingly. "I'm tired," he said and pulled his left boot from Tommy's face and stood up. "You can finish your work tomorrow."
Tommy pulled himself back to his knees. Rick stretched and yawned loudly. Tommy's hands were still tied and he was not given permission to speak. He raised them up hoping the Rick would free him. Rick offered nothing except a devilish grin followed by a stream of dip spit. His spittle slapped Tommy on his forehead and ran down beside his nose spilling into his left eye. Tommy moaned in pain and quickly rubbed his burning eye. "Bullseye!" Rick exclaimed, "That's what you get fag!" Tommy was still rubbing his eye when Rick seized his bound hands and pulled him up. "Let's go unless you want to walk back."
Rick released Tommy and headed toward the barn door and turned out the lights. Tommy pulled up his pants as best he could and then stumbled after him. While Rick chained the door back Tommy wormed his way into the truck bed. As Rick walked around to the driver's side door he said, "Lay down, I don't want anyone seeing you back there." Tommy complied. As they drove back Tommy had never felt so sub-human. His left eye was red and watering. His ass throbbed from his savage beating; and the dirt, shit, and grit from Rick's boot resided in his mouth. Now he was only cargo in Rick's truck bed along with some trash and a fishing pole. He thought, `everything is exactly as it should be.'
When they returned to the barn Rick hopped out of his truck and lowered the tail gate. He pulled a knife from his jean pocket and finally freed Tommy's hands. They were numb from the lack of circulation. While Rick closed his knife he said, "Well I got good news and bad news for you. The good news is your strike count is back to zero. The bad news is next time you earn three strikes; I will not be so nice." With that he returned to his truck and drove home.
When Tommy finally got home he found himself standing in front of the bathroom mirror. His left eye was still red and he held his toothbrush in one hand and a tube of toothpaste in the other. No,' he told himself, You don't deserve to." He put the hygiene items back and went to bed with the taste of Rick's boots in his mouth. He felt the whelps on his ass; sitting down would be a chore for a while. He was relieved that he was back to zero strikes; however Rick's warning haunted him, Next time I won't be so nice.' If that was nice,' then Tommy truly feared Rick's version of `pissed off.'
As usual Tommy did not see or hear from Rick on Sunday. On Monday he arrived at school a changed sub. Rick's discipline had worked. He would be careful and obedient. There would be no half ass' efforts as Rick called it. He had a new lease on life. Things were great again. Just after lunch Tommy's phone buzzed. The text was from Rick and said, "be at the football locker room at 5:20." What?' Tommy thought to himself. That would mean he would have to kill time for two and a half hours. No matter though;' he told himself, it's what Master Rick wants.' He sure didn't want to earn any strikes already.
Tommy killed some time at the McDonald's near the school. Around 5:00 he drove back and entered the doors near the gym. The football locker room was separate from the other boy's phys. Ed. locker room. It was quiet. Most of the players had showered and left after practice as did the coaching staff. The school janitor would come in after six to clean and lock up. Tommy looked around the large, fancy open lockers with their assigned names and jersey numbers. He searched for Rick's locker out of curiosity. Just as he spotted it Tommy was startled by a voice, "So you're Rick's little bitch slave." It was Jack; Rick's best friend. Tommy figured it was only a matter of time until Rick outed him to Jack. Rick walked close; freshly showered and dressed in a flannel button down, jeans, and his Nike Airs. He waited, clearly expecting an answer.
Tommy thought for a moment. There was only one response. "Yes sir," he responded hanging his head down submissively.
"I'll be damned," Jack replied and then he yelled out, "He passed."
Rick entered the locker room from the weight room. It was a test. `Thank God I said yes,' Tommy praised himself!
"Man, he's totally whipped," Jack said to Rick.
Rick walked up and said, "Faggot this is Jack and he's the best damn running back in this whole state. Scored three touchdowns last game; not that your hiding, sissy ass would know."
Damn,' Tommy thought, there was no way of hiding anything from Rick.'
"Thanks brother," Jack said to Rick.
Rick continued, "And since you didn't even bother to cheer him on and show him the respect he deserves at the game; then perhaps you could thank him another way." Rick turned his attention to Jack, "what do you think Jack?"
"Now that you mention it, "Jack said and then he went to his locker and retrieved his football cleats. He returned to Tommy and pushed them into his arms and chest.
"Bring them back tomorrow morning," Jack instructed, "Like new."
The two chuckled and then turned to leave. Tommy remained standing with Jack's filthy, very used cleats clutched in his arms. Rick stopped just before walking out the door and said, "I suppose you know how to clean those proper?"
"Yes master," Tommy replied in a soft, humble voice.
"What a bitch," Jack commented as the two left making plans to go eat.
Tommy just stood there. `What just happened?' he thought to himself.