Living Under the Boot of Rick – Country Boy Domination |Part VIII Author: JB jbcountry@yahoo.com [Please feel free to email comments.]
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 VIII
After school on Wednesday Tommy felt beads of sweat pop up on his forehead. Only the four wheeler was parked outside in the barn parking lot when he arrived. Oh shit,' Tommy thought, that little fucker is here.' He resisted the urge to retreat to his car and drive home. But to what avail? He knew he would have to face him soon enough. Tommy slowly walked down the barn hallway.
"Hey Tommy," a voice startled him from one of the empty stalls. Tommy jumped. He was relieve to discover it was his boss Teddy; Rick and Billy's father.
"Sorry Tommy; I didn't mean to startle you."
"I'm just a little on edge today." Tommy replied with a sigh of relief.
"We just rode up here to replace this light bulb for Shannon." Teddy said climbing off a setting up a step ladder under the stall light fixture. He had removed the globe from the fixture.
`We?' Tommy thought.
"Found them!" Billy hollered from the tack room. He came out holding a light bulb and smirked when he saw Tommy.
"Great," Teddy said.
Billy came to the stall and said, "I got this; we don't need you falling off a ladder."
"My boys think I'm a helpless old man," Teddy said to Tommy. Billy climbed the ladder and replaced the bulb. Teddy's cell phone rang; as usual, and he excused himself to take the call. Tommy started to follow Teddy out of the stall.
"Hey Tommy, will you steady the ladder for me? Safety first!" Billy said in a loud voice. His father was nearby in the barn hallway.
"Sure," Tommy said in a not-so-optimistic voice.
With his father out of earshot Billy asked with a smile, "Eat any good horse shit lately?" Tommy did not reply. He was not enjoying being extorted by Billy; a punk middle school rich brat.
Teddy came back in sight before they could continue their conversation and said, "We have to go kiddo. See ya later Tommy."
"Yeah, see ya later," Billy said with a sadistic smile.
"Take care," Tommy said wondering how Rick and Billy's father could be clueless of his sadist sons. Then he began to wonder about Teddy. Just where did they learn that behavior from? Tommy enjoyed serving Rick but dreaded his interactions with Jack and Billy.
Despite his problems Tommy went to work. It was a quiet evening and he enjoyed the break. Nobody else showed up and Tommy was able to relax as he finished his chores.
Tommy heard from no one until after lunch the following day. It wasn't contact from Rick, Jack, or Billy; it was his calendar alarm. Get Jack's cleats.' Tommy was thankful that he set the appointment on his phone. He nearly forgot the chore Jack expected from him. He waited until football practice was over and entered the locker room. Tommy retrieved Jack's cleats. That asshole,' Tommy thought to himself. The weather had been dry since Friday's game; however Jack's cleats were a mess. Mud was smeared all over them and caked in the cleat spikes. A sloppy note was stashed inside of one saying, enjoy your dinner.' Jack's alpha behavior had increased since his victory of Ethan. The school had a new found respect for his ass kicking' skills.
When Tommy got home he knocked mud off the cleats by smacking them together. Jack's note irritated him greatly. He could be bullied into submission but why take the extra time to write a note highlighting how subhuman Jack thought he was. Tommy would have to clean the cleats; but he wouldn't be licking the dirt off. In fact, Tommy put them on and stomped most of the dirt out of the spikes. It felt strange wearing cleats; Tommy didn't even own a pair. He wiped them several times in the grass outside. He took a water hose and gently sprayed the bottoms off. They were practically clean before he brought them inside. He finished the job with a rag and soapy water. In order to be convincing when asked, Tommy licked a small area of the very top of the cleat's tongue. Tommy examined his work and thought, `perfect!'
The rest of the night was another quiet evening at the barn. Rick didn't show once again so he didn't have a dirty truck to wash. He enjoyed his break but started to miss his interactions with Rick.
The next morning Tommy saw Jack and Rick eating breakfast at their usual spot: the tailgate of Rick's truck. He became increasingly nervous about disobeying his orders to lick Jack's cleats clean so he parked in a different spot away from Rick and Jack. He did not want to be summoned by either one. Tommy remembered that the game tonight was an away game and he would have another free evening. He made his way to the locker room and found it was empty. When he got to Jack's locker he heard the door open behind him. He quickly looked to discover that Rick and Jack followed him in. When they met him at Jack's locker Tommy was neatly setting Jack's cleats inside.
"Nice and clean," Tommy said trying to mask his nerves.
"They better be," Jack warned.
"Lucky fag got off easy. He didn't get to wash my truck last night," Rick said.
"Well he had his plate full with my cleats," Jack laughed. "Did you enjoy your special dinner?"
"It got done," Tommy replied.
"Anything special about it?" Jack inquired.
Tommy noticed Rick and Jack were waiting on a reply with a curious look.
"The field was good and muddy; I guess," Tommy finally replied.
"How did you clean them?" Jack asked changing his tone to serious.
`Be convincing,' Tommy reminded himself and answered, "spit shined as always."
"Just field dirt and mud, huh?" Rick asked. Tommy didn't know what to say. Rick crossed his big arms and asked, "Didn't even notice the dog shit Jack `accidentally' stepped in?"
"Yeah," Tommy replied in a nervous and unconvincing tone, "it was nasty."
"Fucking liar, he didn't lick them clean," Jack spat pissed off.
"Is that right?" Rick asked, "How did you clean them?"
Tommy knew he was busted. "They were so dirty," Tommy admitted, "I want them to look good so I washed them off first."
"You lying little faggot," Jack growled, "I'm going to beat your ass!"
"Rick." Tommy begged hoping for mercy.
"No one is beating any ass right now," Rick said, "but you managed to earn your third strike again."
Jack looked at Rick. Tommy wondered how mad could he really be? After all, he did shine Jack's cleats good for the game. Then he thought, `Strike three. I guess I'm getting the belt again. Shit.'
"I think that little exercise we discussed is in order." Rick said to Jack. "That will put our little disobedient faggot in his place and hone our skills at the same time."
Jack smiled.
`What have they been planning?' Tommy wondered in utter fear.
"When do you want to do it?" Jack asked.
Rick turned his attention to Tommy and said, "Be at the barn at 11:00 sharp; don't be late. You don't want to piss me off any more then you already have."
Tommy did not say anything right away. He was still wondering what they had planned for him. He finally said, "I will."
"What if that's just another lie from his faggot mouth?" Jack asked.
Offering Tommy a serious look Rick answered, "Then you beat his ass."
Jack balled his fist and jabbed at Tommy's head. He stopped short of striking him. Tommy flinched.
Jack smirked at Tommy and then he turned to leave. Tommy heard him mumble, "Fucking faggot," to Rick as the two left the locker room.
The next morning Tommy was nervous. So much in fact that he did not stomach any breakfast. He had no idea what Rick and Jack had planned for him. He learned from Facebook that they won their away game but not by much. Jack had fumbled the ball but Rick, with a `Hail Mary' pass, won the game. Tommy supposed that a late night victory party may result in the boys sleeping in. However pulling into the parking lot of the barn Tommy noticed, in addition to many other boarder's cars, Rick's truck towering over the little sedans.
Tommy parked. He saw Rick and Jack coming out of the barn. They were in full camo. They had camouflage pants, shirts, jacket, and their ball caps were camo. Jack was wearing a camo pack on his back and Rick had some sort of weapon strapped behind his back.
`What the fuck,' Tommy thought.
When they got close to Tommy he lowered his eyes. He was frightened.
"Time to learn," Rick said.
"Time to pay fag," Jack added.
Tommy said nothing. After their short promise of a not-so-pleasant afternoon Rick and Jack headed for the truck. Rick snapped and commanded, "In!"
Tommy knew what to do. He slowly walked to the large Chevy. He was fighting his instincts to run but climbed hesitantly in the bed and sat down.
The truck fired up and took off down the driveway and onto the road. Tommy suspicions were correct. The truck turned onto their family's land where the hunting barn was. Images of Rick and Jack taking turns flogging him haunted his imagination. Much to his surprise they drove past the hunting barn of pain. The road became steep and the truck slowed to a stop. Tommy heard the transmission make a sound as it locked the truck into four-wheel drive. After which they crept up the steep grade. `This can't be safe,' Tommy told himself. The road was not very wide and brush often hit the sides of the truck. Tommy had no idea how far they had driven but eventually the truck came to a stop. The road had leveled off and they was a spot flat enough for a couple of trucks to park.
Tommy looked around. A hiking trail continued up the hill. He cautiously crawled out of the truck bed. Rick and Jack exited the truck and strapped weapons on their back. Tommy's heart raced.
"Are you sure you don't want to use shot guns with rat shot?" Jack asked Rick.
Rick looked at Tommy.
"What?" Tommy asked with a tremble in his voice.
"These are paint ball guns Tommy," Rick said, "Their sting is not near as bad as my belt."
Tommy breathed a sigh of release. He had never been shot by a paintball gun before but he believed Rick; it would be better than his belt! He remembered how long the sting and burn lasted from being belted in the hunting shed.
Once Rick and Jack were situated with their gear (each had a paintball gun and small camo backpack,) Rick said, "Let's go." Rick led the way up the rather steep hiking path. Jack followed behind Tommy with his rifle in hand. They hiked for nearly a half hour. The path was steep. It leveled off in places but was always ascending. Tommy's heart pounded. He was not accustomed to physical exercise and did not possess the wind and stamina Rick and Jack had. They were not breathing hard whereas Tommy tried to mask his labored breathing as much as possible.
Tommy wished that Rick was wearing shorts. He would have enjoyed watching his massive legs in action hiking up the trail. Rick was wearing sturdy hunting boots. They kept him stuck to the earth. Tommy's slick barn sneakers had little traction. He slipped in some damp leaves and fell to his knees. It was a great relief to stop. Tommy remained on all fours catching his breath before he got up. He felt the weight of a heavy, treaded hunting boot rest on his back. Rick stopped when Tommy fell and he saw Jack's right boot posed triumphantly on Tommy's back. Jack's rifle was aimed at the back of his prey's head.
"I'm not sure how this weak game will hone our skills Rick," Jack said.
Tommy wanted to move out from under Jack's boot. His dislike for Jack grew with each degrading act.
"Let him up," Rick said, "we're burning daylight."
Jack removed his heavy boot from Tommy's back and growled, "On your feet faggot!"
Tommy slowly stood up.
Rick started back up the trail saying, "We're almost there."
Tommy was so tired. He couldn't understand all the hype about hunting. The physical exertion made him wonder about the entire sport. Rick would occasionally stop briefly to point out a deer trail or tree scrape to Jack. Tommy didn't care about the evidence of deer, he was just happy for the break.
The trail finally leveled off to a clearing. Rick took a bottle of Gatorade from his pack as Jack did a bottle of water. Tommy longed for a drink but neither offered. After they drank Tommy watched as they checked their paint ball rifles.
"It's simple," Rick said, "if you make it back to the truck without being hit then it's over and you win. If you get tagged by one of us then you serve your sentence with that hunter. Got it?"
"Sir," Tommy asked, "what's the sentence?"
Jack answered, "Whatever they say."
"I'm red," Rick informed Jack.
"I got blue," Jack answered.
Tommy did not have time to think about his strategy too long. He was about to ask a question when Rick said, "You get a thirty second head start. Run!"
"But?" Tommy began to ask.
"29 Mississippi, 28 Mississippi," was Rick's reply so Tommy took off back down the trail.
"He'll head straight down the path," Jack commented, "I'll cover the trail."
"I got the woods then," Rick agreed and they started after Tommy.
Momentum carried Tommy quickly down the path but he knew that Rick and Jack were faster. When he was out of sight he darted off the path into some brush. It wasn't very thick and Tommy felt exposed. This is insane,' Tommy thought. He knew the paint ball would not hurt nearly as bad as a belt but the thought of being hunted, tagged', and then punished took him to a new level of low. He heard one of them running down the path so he ducked low and was quiet. He tried hard to calm his labored breathing. He saw Jack run past him on the path. His heart raced but Jack did not spot him. He calmed down for only a moment for he heard rustling in the woods behind him. He was too frightened to look up so he focused on a large tree in front of him. He was startled when he heard a click and red paint splattered on the tree he was watching. He jumped up and ran. He was sure he was in Rick's sight but he was not hit. Rick was making as much sport of this as possible. His flight instinct moved him quickly down the hill. Soon all he could hear was the noise he was making running. Swigs were snapping and leaves were rustling under his shuffled run. Shit,' he thought, Jack will hear me coming.' He suspected that Jack was positioned somewhere beneath him in wait.
After a long jog Tommy believed he was getting closer to the truck. He decided to jump back on the trail and make a run for it. When he got close to the truck he slowed his pace and surveyed the ground. He saw somewhat of a path which he believed would be a better way than the trail. His plan was to reach the clearing off the trail. He heard Rick making progress down the thick of the woods. Tommy gently veered off the trail. He was not off the trail long when he heard the clicking sound of a paint ball gun. Tommy felt direct hits to his chest. `Fuck!' he thought. The shots stung. He looked down and gasped at the blue splatter on his chest.
Jack stepped out from behind a large tree with a huge smile on his face. "You're hit faggot," he said triumphantly, "go down."
"What?" Tommy asked breathing hard.
"When I shoot my prey it goes down or I keep shooting until it does."
Tommy laid down on his back. Once again he felt the weight of Jack's hunting boot on him. Jack rested it on the side of his face forcing his head into the leaves and dirt. From his vantage point all he could see was the ground leading to Jack's other hunting boot. Tommy thought, `Fuck! I should have let Rick hit me." But then he realized that Rick could have and didn't. Did he want Jack to win?
It wasn't long before Rick arrived. He slowed his pace and walked up to them. Tommy could only listen from his position.
"Nice kill brother."
"A little too easy," Jack replied, "but this ones fugly. I'm definitely not getting him mounted!"
They both laughed then Rick said, "A deals a deal; he'll serve his punishment under you. Let's go to the truck."
Tommy felt Jack's boot lift off of his head. He was sure tread marks were imprinted on him. He looked up and saw Jack standing over him with his hands on his hip.
Jack bent down and said, "You should have licked my cleats clean faggot like you were told! I bet you don't make that mistake twice!"
When Tommy got up Jack seized him by the back of his jacket and forced him down the hill. Jack was much more physical with him than Rick. That scared him.
When they reached the truck Rick asked Jack, "So, what's our little faggot's lesson gonna be?"
Tommy's fear heightened as he awaited a response.
Jack replied, "Well this faggot disobeyed us and then lied about it. I would like to give him a good old fashion country ass beating; leave him here twitching in pain to think about his fuck up."
Tommy's eyes widened and he winced at the suggestion.
"But I guess it's not his fault," Jack said, "The faggot just hasn't been raised right." Jack paused for a moment and then said, "I got it. I will give you what you've been missing boy." Jack looked at Rick and added, "I will teach him how men discipline fuck-ups in the south." Jack scanned the woods for a moment and then said, "Perfect!" He took his knife and cut a very long, green switch from a tree. He whipped it in the air and it made an ominous sound as it sliced through the air. Once again Jack seized Tommy by the back of his jacket and led him to the back of the truck. He lowered the tailgate and commanded, "Drop those panties faggot."
Tommy thought about refusing. He did not want to be whipped by Jack. After weighing his options Tommy had a revelation about the situation. Jack was a man; a school jock that commanded respect. He did not give Jack the respect he deserved. Now he will answer for it so Tommy loosened his belt and dropped his jeans. With his eye lowered he awaited orders.
"You can drop the panties or I can cut them off with my hunting knife; your choice," Jack growled.
Tommy reluctantly dropped his underwear exposing himself to Jack, Rick, and the world.
"Fuck man," Jack said, "it's no wonder you're a faggot; you're practically a chick!" Jack and Rick laughed looking at Tommy's little pecker. Tommy's dick was small for it was cold, Tommy was nervous, and it wasn't very big to begin with.
Jack continued, "Pa says never to hit a girl so I guess that little dick has to count!" With that Jack grabbed Tommy by his jacket and forced him face down onto the truck tail gate. Tommy's feet barely touched the ground. His body was nearly a perfect 90 degree angle.
Jack told Rick, "Pin him down; his soft ass is bound to squirm."
Rick jumped up in the back of the truck and, with his right boot, stood on Tommy's back facing Jack and Tommy's bare ass. Rick was heavy. Tommy could barely breathe with just half of Rick's weight pinning him down. Tommy thought to himself, `This is what I deserve.' He reminded himself of that fact over and over until FIRE!
Beginning with the very first lick Jack had no mercy. The sting was intense. There was no pause between lashes. In pain, Tommy screamed loudly. Tears flowed from his eyes; there was no hiding his sobs. After fifteen lashes Tommy did squirm to get up. He was going to run. He could not take the brutal whipping Jack was unleashing on his ass.
"Hold him down damn it," Jack said to Rick.
That was the only brief pause until the end of his lashing. When Rick shifted all his weight to Tommy's back his hopes of escape were gone. Tommy had no idea how many lashes he had endured: 20 – 30 – 100; he had lost count. His cries to stop did not slow Jack at all. He just had to endure it.
Eventually Rick said, "That's good; he's had enough."
With that order, the brutal ass whipping ceased. Tommy's sobs did not. It was by far the most painful event in his life. Jack seized him by his jacket again and pulled him off the tail gate slinging him to the ground. Tommy fell into the fetal position. His bare ass was bright red with whelps raised everywhere in perfect lines.
"Look at me," Jack commanded. Tommy didn't want to.
"Look at me mother-fucker!" Jack snapped.
Tommy raised his head to see Jack towering over him. He was huge from his vantage point. Jack still had the switch in his hand. He pointed it at Tommy's face.
"When I tell you to lick my cleats, boots, or the shit from my dog's ass you do it; period! You take that disgusting faggoty tongue and wipe clean whatever I tell you to; whenever I tell you to, got it? No questions, no cheating, no whining- just obedience! Do you understand?"
Tommy whimpered, "Yes sir." His ass was burning.
Jack raised the switch and Tommy flinched. "What was that?"
"Yes sir!" Tommy repeated himself in a much louder and clearer voice.
"No let's try this again. If you fail I will put you back on that tailgate for round two." Jack paused, stood up straight and commanded, "Faggot my boots are dirty from hunting your sorry ass down. Lick `em clean!"
At the command Tommy lunged his body at Jack's hunting boots. With frantic swipes he licked and licked Jack's left hunting boot. The vigor in which he was cleaning his boot surprised Rick and Jack.
Tommy heard Jack snicker and say to Rick, "See, with just a little conditioning we got ourselves a real obedient faggot now!"
Tommy's red ass stuck in the air. He was on his knees bent down serving Jack's boots. Rick jumped off the truck and said, "That sore ass of yours could use a little cream."
Tommy did not say anything. All his concentration was focused on Jack's boots.
"I bet you could whip up a little `jerkins' for him," Jack said with a laugh.
Rick pulled out his monster cock and spit on Tommy's exposed ass. He crouched down to his knees behind Tommy and forced his cock inside. Watching Tommy service Jack with such obedience made him rock hard.
Tommy cried out from Rick's cock invading his abused ass but he did not stop licking Jack's boots.
"That's so gay Rick," Jack said watching Rick pound Tommy's ass.
"Just a hole to fuck," Rick replied through gritted teeth, "A man's got to relieve his pressure."
"Huh," Jack said. He felt his own package which had grown half hard. Jack liked watching Tommy's head serving his hunting boot while being ass raped by Rick.
"You know that mouth can serve you in other ways," Rick said slowing his thrusts.
Jack felt his package again and then unzipped his pants; pulled his cock out. Jack snapped his fingers a couple of time near Tommy's head and commanded, "swallow that dirt then suck my dick queer."
Tommy pulled his head up from Jack's boot and swallowed the grit in his mouth. He was now on all fours with Jack's cock pointing down at him. Jack's cock did not have the girth of Rick's but looked to be a mile long.
"Chick's won't let me gag them with my pecker but you're gonna take it all!" With that Jack grabbed Tommy's hair and plunged his cock deep into his throat. Tommy gagged and sputtered so Jack pulled out and complained, "What kind of cock sucker are you?"
"Sorry sir," Tommy said. He was on sensory overload. His ass was burning, Rick continued to pound him with his cock, and now Jack's dick was sure to strangle him.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Rick said as he reached his climax. "As promised," he said pulling out of Tommy's hole. Rick stood up and with only a few strokes he creamed; shooting cum all over Tommy's back."
"Shit dude," Jack said, "You nearly hit me! And you missed his sore ass."
"His problem."
Jack laughed and then grabbed Tommy by the arm pulling him up to his knees. "Back to work cocksucker!"
Tommy tried to open his throat. He knew that Jack would be merciless. And he was. Breathing was difficult as Jack savagely fucked his throat. After several minutes swallowing Jack's relentless penis, he had finally cum.
"My – fucking – prey – will – swallow –my – load," Jack said rhythmically thrusting as ropes of his seed shot down Tommy's throat. When he was finished Jack's body relaxed. He let his dick soften in his prey's mouth before pulling out.
"How's that feel brother?" Rick asked.
"Amazing," Jack said wiping sweat from his forehead.
Rick sat on the tailgate. After zipping up Jack joined him.
Rick pulled out his can of Skoal and put a big dip in. He passed the can to Jack and asked, "Dip?"
"Don't mind if I do," Jack replied taking the can from Rick. He too put a dip in and they started talking about their upcoming playoff game.
Tommy slowly put his underwear and jeans back on. He was anticipating some orders but none came. The two jocks acted as if he wasn't even there. Tommy slowly sat in the grass; gingerly placing his aching butt on the ground.
"You just gonna sit there prey?" Jack said. He snapped and point to his boots. "Lay under my feet and get back to work." Jack looked at Rick and said, "Cunts these days, you have to tell them to do everything!"
Tommy quickly did as instructed. He feared another round of Jack's switch. He laid his head just underneath the tailgate. He felt the tread of Jack's right boot barely touch his nose. He positioned his head and instinctively stuck his tongue out. Jack began to slowly swing his legs carelessly brushing his treads against Tommy's tongue with each pass.
Rick and Jack continued their conversation about their next game. Tommy had resolved that he was getting what he deserved for being disobedient and then lying about it. However, his dislike for Jack returned. His contempt began to increase with each pass of Jack's boot. He wanted freed from Jack but he never felt more trapped in his life. His plan to avoid Jack had failed for today he had been whipped by him, sucked his dick, and now his tongue was serving as his boot scrape while the jocks completely ignored him.
After their conversation concluded Jack said, "Shit man, I don't know if I want a nap or slam down on some burgers!"
"I'm hungry too," Rick agreed.
With that Jack's boot stopped and pulled to the side of Tommy's head. Tommy saw Jack's face peering down at him. He smiled and then unleashed a massive amount of dip spit which splattered on his face.
"Time to go boot boy," Jack said as he jumped down off the tailgate. His heavy hunting boots crashed down close on either side of Tommy's face. Tommy froze. His left eye burned from part of Jack's tobacco spit hitting it. In one last degrading move Jack squeezed Tommy's head between his boots with a surprising amount of pressure.
"Tell me about your plans for this Thursday night?" Jack asked.
"Licking you cleats clean sir," Tommy said defeated.
Jack laughed. He stepped away from Tommy. His ears were now sore.
"Rick let's eat; I'm starving," Jack said as he headed for the truck cab.
Rick shook his head at Tommy and jumped off the tailgate too.
Tommy pulled himself into the truck bed to begin his journey back; now that they were done with him.