Lovers of work boots and construction workers will be very entertained by this story. Your satisfaction is assured.
Lester insults a construction worker on a hot summer day and
is held against his will inside an old decaying building.
He tries to talk his way out of it, but things only get
worse for him as he tries to survive against an onslaught of angry workers who
are out for revenge.
This 5,700 word erotic boot fetish story includes boot
related violence, sexual language and profanity.
EXCERPT:
Rick and Dean lead me down a cinder block-lined hall while the guards trail close behind. There is no way I’ll be able to escape, so I try to look for maybe an open window or door that I can jump through. I hear voices up ahead and they get louder as we get closer. As we turn the corner, the hallway is lined on either side with burly construction workers.
“Make a path, men. I have a surprise for you.”
The crowd splits, with the men turning to look at me, this outsider who is dressed in a flimsy t-shirt and shorts in contrast to them in their rugged jeans, boots, safety vests and hard hats. They glare at me, some muttering curses as I walk through. I don’t know why they are mad at me – I’ve never seen any of them.
One guy trips me and I almost fall. These massive guys would not hesitate to trample me en mass, crushing me to a pulp in mere seconds.
The hallway leads to an open area with what looks like a raised platform in the center.
“Come on, bitch,” says, Rick, grabbing me by the arm.
I follow him onto the platform and gaze upon the sea of angry workers. I still wish I knew why they were glaring at me.
Rick raises a bullhorn and introduces me; only it’s the worst introduction you could ever ask for in front of this audience. He lies to them, telling them I am here to break up their union and ruin their benefits. As ridiculous as it sounds, they believe him.
My skin goes white as the men yell and curse at me.
“It’s not true! It’s not true! He’s making this up!” I yell, but my voice is drowned out by the deafening roar of the men waving tools and sticks. Nothing’s stopping them from storming the platform and killing me, so I try to run, but Miguel and Jose grab me and I fight for my life. I can see Rick laughing, bullhorn in hand. The crowd is getting even more raucous so the guards pummel me with their fists to satisfy their blood lust
