MasterBoot 02

THE NEXT WEEK

I arranged to meet up with MASTERBOOT on the following Friday. We stood side by side on the same balcony, enjoyinyg a cigar and a cold one. We compared notes on suitable material, but didn't waste time memorizing any: they would come.

I noticed the former released slaveboi of a bud climbing the metal backstairs. Signalling the boi over with a flick of his gauntlet it seemed MASTERBOOT had already had used this sub..

"Meet BOI, BOSS". I nodded to the boi, not yet ready to let on that I knew its former BOSSDAD. "Good evening SIR" the boi spoke, head down. "I have not met SIR in the flesh before".

BOI had in fact contacted me on Recon out of the blue a couple of weeks back: "SIR is very impressive. This would be honoured to speak to SIR". I had resisted encouraging BOI with a reply, and boi was now suitably reserved at the bar

Clipping a leash from his cop belt onto BOI's empty dog-collar MASTERBOOT shook my gauntlet with the other hand.

"I will see you very shortly, BROTHER - there is something I need to do" he smiled as he led BOI towards the metal staircase.

"I expect to see you shortly, Bro", I winked.

As MASTERBOOT'S broad leathered back disappeared into the gloom, a plume of blue cigar smoke trailed behind him.

I reached for my Bud, and turned to faced the bright, bar end of the platform to check out any new material. I shifted my weight onto my right boot, and rested the other on the footrail under the drink-shelf: a sign to gathering bootlickers my Chippewas required a tongueshine. My dick was now getting really hard so I put the cigar in the corner of my mouth, gripping my beerbottle in one gauntlet so I could adjust the codpiece filling up with my dick. I left my gauntlet on the cockpiece and cupped my bulging cod; I thought about getting my cock out as it was getting slowly crushed in the cod.

This display caught the attention of a short-arse rubber skinhead - scrawny and easily crushed, unlike last week's skinthug. It was one of many gathering bootvultures that had probably been staring at my boots all the time I'd been there..

I carried on enjoying my cigar and the adulation, which only made my dick even harder; fuck it, I nneded to give the bad boy some air. I flicked one of the top clasps open and my helmet forced itself out of the top, with the half the shaft still inside the cod..

A lot of the hangabout subs straightened up at this sight, but the rubberskin must have reached desperation point, and braved the walk across the platform. It stopped in front of me looking for eye contact.

It looked up for reassurance but it got none. I fucking ignored it and carried on enjoying my cigar looking at the front of the bar. It could do its own fucking work.

Humiliated in full view of the gallery, in resigned desperation it shrugged it shoulders took a deep breath and assumed the position: kneeling in front of my raised cop boot, arms clasped behind its back, head bowed down next to my boot.

It was a good five minutes before I even glanced down at the lowered skull before me. Having passed the first stage of its training, I decided my the slave could clean my boot. I slowly angled my right Chippewa up and down, admiring my shining boot gleaming in the dark. The bootslave risked it, and took this as permission to lick the bar-shit off the sole, and greedily slathered the rim clean, hands still behind the back at all times.

After five minutes I removed the boot from its mouth and placed it on the steel floor. The bootslave realized that it was to tongue clean the other boot; this meant bowing its head right down to the floor, supporting itslef on all fours like the dog it is.

After another five minutes boot training on the left Chippewa, the sub paused, and nervously sat up on its knees, and, dared to look up at my bulging cod. Its mouth was wide open ready to take whatever I chose to throw its way.

I chose to spit beer in its face.

The sub hardly dared flinch, just licked the liquid dripping down its head and stinging its eyes. It duly bowed its head in thanks and stared back longingly.

By now precum was dripping down my shaft inside the cod. Without expending any more energy than I needed to, I tapped the cod with my beer bottle to start the next part of the worship. The rubber sub nervously raised its hands from behind its back and carefully reached to pull open the cod flap. It looked afraid of what might happen next.. My hard eight incher loomed above its head. It opened its mouth wide opened and put its tongue out. Begging like a dog. I made it wait a good four minutes kneeling on the iron grating.

With a single flick of a gloved finger I pointed at my cock. Like a starving dog it reached up its tongue and started to carefully clean the precum dripping down the shaft. It waited a while before attempting the helmet. As it did I swiftly reached my gauntlet down and pushed its skull down on my . I raped its mouth right down to its throat. Just where I wanted it. It could work out how to breath.. Skullholster keeping the cock hard, beer in one hand, gar in the over.

30 minutes cockmassage should be enough before I fuck my load down its guts.....Let the bar gets a good look too...

I enjoyed the rest of my beer, and the Casablanca, nodding to a few buds as the passed by. For a while I forgot the skull and only occassionally remembered the skullsheath clamped on my cock when I was adjusting my weight from one boot to the another

I knew twenty minutes had passed because that's how long half a Jerry takes to smoke. And why are the cockvultures staring more than usual? Fuck - I forgot the cumbucket...he he. A few thrusts should.....FFFFUUUKKKK!!!!!!!. do it. There; nuts feel lighter: for a while. The sub got a good meal inside it too.

When I had done it the honour of fucking its throat, it stood up bleary eyed, bowed again and stumbled off.

BOOT ORGY

Still no sign of MASTERBOOT? Where is the BEAST? Think it's time to see if he is thuggin that vic downstairs...

I clear a path through the crowded platform to get to the metal staircase. Good to see the two thrones still there in front of the stairs...

My steel boot-tips clattered satisfyingly as I clunked down the metal steps to the bar level to get a beer. What was MASTERBOOT doing to BOI?

At the bar I watched some porn and fired up a new Jerry..

Still hard, the dark cruising arch seemed like a good idea. I walked round towards they connecting doors, where BOI emerged with MASTERBOOT's leash hanging from its dog collar.

BOI bowed its head before me.

"SIR; SIR MASTERBOOT has invited you to use this boi with him upstairs SIR". BOI handed me the leather loop of the heavy chain leash and bowed his head. Great; whatever MASTERBOOT had been doing to BOI was only the first course....

"Follow me boi". I yanked the chain to pull the boi's head down further and strode off back to the stairs. The cruisers cleared way and I enjoyed their subs oggling; and winked to a couple of buds., grabbing my crotch

Clearing a way up the stairs, I turned the corner. There was MASTERBOOT seated on a Throne, already with another slave sucking his jackboot.

MASTERBOOT nodded his Muir cap and smilied, letting a curl of cigar smoke from the corner of his mouth. "You get the material I pimped you".

"Sure did Brother". I ascended the other throne and leaned over to shake MASTERBOOT's gloved hand and to pass the leashto the other . Boi stood before MASTERBOOT'S throne as a subject: bowed head and hands clasped behind. MASTERBOOT did that same signal with a single finger, and BOI dropped to HIS boots and got to work tongueshining.

"It is yours to use. We share material as brothers".

My Chippewa was already next to MASTERBOOT's jackboot on the footplate. One sharp move and I had my bootcap in BOI's mouth.

"As it should be Brother. Side by side again with our slaves".

"Fukk yeah bro.. I think I need another slave - you agree BOOT?". I looked at the many subs lined up again oin the gallery, and nodded to one. Two rushed over instead and pounced on my boots, squeezing BOI out the way. MASTERBOOT beamed with congratulation through cigar smoke and asked as he opened his codpiece without looking?.

BOOT "You gonna fukk BROTHER?"

"For sure BRO". MASTERBOOT's 9 inch monster rose up between his leathered thighs. BOOT yanked BOI's head and growled::

"What are you born for,"

"SIR to serve YOU MASTER, SIR". BOOT nodded with self satisfaction and impaled BOI's skull on his cockweapon. I grabbed a tongueslave skull and peeled the cod off another time and rammed my still hard inches inside the greedy subskull.

"It is perfect, WOLF"

"Where we belong bro."

As we sat like kings; a bud of MASTERBOOT's swaggerred towards him, new in town from a couple of years in doing porn in LA. Tall, good-looking and still relatively young he shook MASTERBOOT's gauntlet, and peered at the massed worshippers before us with calm interest.

"WOLF, meet LA COP"

"Good work there, WOLF" he replied, offering a gloved hand.

"Cheers" I replied shaking his hand over BOI's head.

LA COP was already cupping his crotch and reaching down to inspect BOI's body. MASTERBOOT nodded to LA COP who drew up to BOI's ass, priming it hard with a few preliminary hard wakks of the hand. BOI, well trained and now solely concentrating on my Chippewas, hardly flinched. LA COP then then reached for a short truncheon hanging from his belt and started to beat BOI first across the ass. BOI only flinched once as LA COP's baton moved up towards BOI's back. I felt him on my boot as BOI bridled against the brutal blows.

SARGE 'WOLF' MACK ON CELLBLOCK DUTY DESK.