This has long been one of my fantasies, so I'm glad to share it with all of you.
Lester’s innocent inquiry ends up giving him the opportunity of a lifetime – to be trampled by a group of construction workers on site.
Will Lester be able to survive the onslaught of 50 brutish construction workers as they walk on him without care?
This 4,500 word erotic boot fetish story includes boot-related violence, sexual language and profanity.
EXCERPT
One of the guys yells from a distance. “Hey Mark, that your buddy?”
“Yep!”
“Alright!” He does a little dance. “Time to blow off some steam.”
Lester’s innocent inquiry ends up giving him the opportunity of a lifetime – to be trampled by a group of construction workers on site.
Will Lester be able to survive the onslaught of 50 brutish construction workers as they walk on him without care?
This 4,500 word erotic boot fetish story includes boot-related violence, sexual language and profanity.
EXCERPT
One of the guys yells from a distance. “Hey Mark, that your buddy?”
“Yep!”
“Alright!” He does a little dance. “Time to blow off some steam.”
The big guy follows behind us, and as we get closer, more guys drop what they’re doing and follow. We exit the building in the back where there is a big, wide dirt pit. A crowd of burly construction workers has already gathered. We are surrounded by stark, unfinished concrete buildings, so it has the feel of a prison yard.
“Here he is!” yells Mark. They cheer and clap like I’m a celebrity. I nod at them and smile a bit. I get nervous again.
It’s a vast cross section of manly, blue collar men. There are white men, black men, and Latin men just for starters. They are all relatively young, muscular and dirty. I glance down at their boots and see Timberlands, PRO Timberlands, Caterpillars, loggers, combats, steel toe boots and some I don’t recognize. I see every color of boot: tan, black, gray, and brown. Some boots are so caked with mud, I can’t even tell what they are.
“So, how do you want to do this, Lester?” asks Mark.
“Well, there’s a lot of guys here. Maybe they should, I dunno…get in line?”
“You heard him, guys! Get in line!”
They scramble to get in line as I lay down on the ground. They push and shove each other, yelling and threatening each other until they calm down.
“You ready, Lester?”
“Here he is!” yells Mark. They cheer and clap like I’m a celebrity. I nod at them and smile a bit. I get nervous again.
It’s a vast cross section of manly, blue collar men. There are white men, black men, and Latin men just for starters. They are all relatively young, muscular and dirty. I glance down at their boots and see Timberlands, PRO Timberlands, Caterpillars, loggers, combats, steel toe boots and some I don’t recognize. I see every color of boot: tan, black, gray, and brown. Some boots are so caked with mud, I can’t even tell what they are.
“So, how do you want to do this, Lester?” asks Mark.
“Well, there’s a lot of guys here. Maybe they should, I dunno…get in line?”
“You heard him, guys! Get in line!”
They scramble to get in line as I lay down on the ground. They push and shove each other, yelling and threatening each other until they calm down.
“You ready, Lester?”
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