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The next morning, we slaves were eating our breakfast when the door rang. Dave and Scott had arrived for the day, Master instructed me to go and let them in.
Morning said Scott, I had a great night imagining the fun I'm going to have with you when Ed is in Paris.
Me, too said Dave, dressed in almost skin tight jeans , got these great pairs of boots for you to worship later. As he spoke he gave me a hard kick in the side. Then walked past me to the kitchen to see Master
I had barely taken my last mouthful when Master instructed us to start on our boot polishing, whilst he talked tactics with Dave and Scott.
As I applied a layer of polish to the the Rangers, I began to contemplate the current situation. I was fully programmed to obey my Master, and to do my best for him. However there were four either slaves in a similar position, only one of us would be rewarded as the best. If I failed what was the worst that could happen to me, suffering for a week at the hands of Dave and Scott. I'd probably survive. My mind then took me to Paris, me Master, and a collection of other slaves and Masters. I'd have to be on my best behaviour making Master proud, showing that I was proud of my Master. But what if when in Paris I failed, if I shamed Master what then. Master had proved that slaves were expendable, Mike, Jake, John, look at what happened to Shane , went over as a wannabe Master, last seen bound at the mercy of a French Sadist.
Missed a bit said Dave, bring me back to reality. He walked past me and grabbed Kurt, for a boot worshipping session, at the same time I saw Richard return, his hole wide open after a session on the fuck machine.
I silently got back to work, polishing the boot. I was on the second riding boot when Dave shouted up at me.
Oi Paul, there are some boots here that need worshipping I left my boot polishing, making sure that the lid was back on the tin, and that my brush and clothes were neatly stored, and crawled towards his voice.
Ahead of me two socked feet. The toes pulsating. I arrived at them and waited, I looked up hesitantly. He looked down at me. "Begin". I bent down and began inhaling the scent from his socks.
Nah! I looked up,
Boots first, but only after you have made sure they are laced up perfectly. Besides him black boots with at a guess 25 eyelets each side, none of the laces in place. My heart sank .
Then you get to worship the boots. Then you take them off again, worship the feet and then.. Guess what. YOU make sure that I have a pair of perfectly laced up boots back on my feet. Don't worry if you fuck up, and you will you will , think of it as practice for some of the work I have planned when Ed is in Paris.
I lifted the first of the heavy size 11 boots. I stuck my face in them and took a deep breath
Oi you fucker, none of that. Get the boots on.
I lifted his right foot and pushed it on, making sure the tight denims he was wearing were securely within the confines of the leather, and then did the same with the right. Next the challenge. How to lace them. I looked blankly, and was almost panicking, regarding the coming failure .
Paris is slipping away. Slipping away Dave said with a snarl. Now fucking get on with it
I began to lace, threading carefully through the eyelets, occasionally having to re do my work Finally I reached the top of the boot, I wrapped the remaining laces round and made a knot. I looked at it and thought. Not too bad a job.
The left foot took less time as I was now confident in my ability. As I tied the lace, I Looked up and saw that Dave was totally ignoring me, reading a magazine. I was unsure how I felt about this. Relief that I wasn't under constant scrutiny, or disappointment that my hard work and effort wasn't being appreciated.
As these thoughts went through my head Dave spoke
Get worshipping then.
He put down his magazine and yanked me by the front of my collar so my face was directly in contact with his left boot. His right boot was resting on my back. I knew the drill, spit , anthem lick, spit then lick. My ability to move was restricted by the pressure of his boot on my back but the toe cap was shiny and polished.
My collar was again pulled up. Both his legs now resting on my shoulder. He tapped the shaft of his right. He lowered his forehead wordlessly instructing me to start worshipping. Dave positioned his legs so again I had limited range of movement, my tongue being uplifted as it pressed against the hard leather of the shaft. After what seemed like an hour but must have only been minutes he released the pressure.
Ok feet next. Get these off .
I slowly undid the laces on each boot, left then right loosening them so that the boots would come off smoothly, but I hoped making it easier to slip them back on and replace them later. I placed the boots carefully next to Dave's chair. These were an extension of him so had to be treated with the same level of respect and care as if he were his actual feet.
Let's see. He put his hand out, an instruction to hand him the boots. Within minutes my careful work at loosening the laces had been undone, save for two eyes at the bottom of each boot the rest of the laces were not free and loose.
He handed them back and I placed them carefully on the floor besides him.
Treat time. These socks have been worn for three days straight, I even wanked into them last night. Let's see how you get on. The bare feet can wait until next time. Now sniff.
He stuck his right foot into my face, the smell of yesterday's cum hit me right away.
I can't hear the sniffing. Show me how much you are enjoying my scent
I inhaled deeply, followed by an equally deeply exhalation. Dave began to rub his foot up and down my face, The rough fabric causing friction. He then removed it from my face for a few seconds, before using his toes to prise open my mouth . Half of his foot was soon filling my cheeks. This time however it was all done so slowly, gently filling my mouth until his foot was half way in. Gagged. Breathing through my nose. His toes waggling, increasing the desire for release. There was no release yet. He anchored the foot in my mouth , pushing me forward and back. He clicked his fingers, I looked directly at him. He smiled as the rocking motion continued, then he released his grip and slowly slid his foot out.
Time's almost up. Get those boots back on me. You still have two pairs of boots to polish. He sat back and opened his magazine and began to read.