Lester gets another visit from burly plumbers Mike and Paul.
While they make a living fixing things, they are hell bent
on stomping and crushing anything they can under their logger boots - including
Lester.
This 6,100 word erotic boot fetish story includes boot
related violence, sexual language and profanity.
EXCERPT:
Mike’s walks over to the couch, but stops short.
“I’m not sitting there.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not clean enough.
Lester, lay down on the couch – face up.”
Paul runs and throws himself on top of me and pretends to
hump me. He may be playing around, but
he is rock hard. I can’t help but smile
when he looks down at me. He quickly
realizes that I caught him, so he grabs a throw pillow and covers my face with
it.
“Come on, get up. I
want to sit down.” Mike says. Paul quickly gets off, and the pillow falls
to the floor. Mike sits down on my chest
and immediately slaps me in the face.
Paul punches me in the balls as revenge for noticing his hard on.
“You bring your cigarettes with you, Mike?”
“Yeah.”
They light up, with Paul bending over to blow smoke in my
face. Mike props his big loggers up on
the coffee table, kicking everything onto the floor. Paul brings his boot up and drops it down on
my face while he smokes. He drags it
heavily back and forth, taking advantage of the fact that my arms are pinned
down beneath Mike’s body. He stops
moving the boot, letting the treads sink in for a while.
When he pulls the boot off, he marvels at the deep, red
prints.
“Look what I did, Mike.”
“Nice work,” he says, putting his cigarette out on the couch
arm near my head.
Paul throws coffee on it.
“What’s wrong with you – you want to start a fire?” He uses his boot to wipe the area where Mike
extinguished his cigarette, smearing the ashes.
The air is filled with the smell of burned fabric and coffee.
“Aww, what the fuck, guys?
I can’t afford a new couch!”
They are silenced.
“You fucking believe this guy?”
“He’s really asking for it today.”
“Get up, Mike.”
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