Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Licking My Mother's Boots The Beginning Jeremy's Story

   It happened when I was about 13 I guess.  I know that I should have been
more careful but when you are a teenage boy and your hormones are soaring
and you have just learned the amazing pastime of masturbation you begin
thinking more with your little head than your big one.  I swear I thought
that I had locked my bedroom door before pulling my shorts down around my
ankles and getting comfortable in the middle of my bed with my cock in one
hand and Mom's tall boots in the other.  I had jammed my left arm up inside
one of her boots so that the leather was stretched similar to how it would
look if Mom's leg was inside it.  I brought it up to my nose and breathed
in the remarkable musky smell of the leather and I felt my cock surge to
even greater heights.  I tentatively reached out with my tongue and allowed
it to make a very small pass along the leather of the toe of the boot.  It
dragged some as the boots had not been polished recently and had been worn
a lot.  But that fact only made me more excited.  I gathered as much
moisture as I could from the saliva in my mouth and wet the boot and then
took a bigger taste.

   I kept repeating the process, wet then dry, wet then dry until I had
worked my way almost from the sole to the top of the upper.  I quickly
learned that although I was running my tongue over dirty leather that I
loved not only the taste and smell but the humiliation as well.  I had just
finished with the first boot and pulled my arm out and laid it down next to
me when I picked up the second one and put my arm inside that one.  This
time I started with the heel and put it my mouth and began sucking on it as
one might suck a cock.  While that had never entered my mind before, I did
not find the idea disgusting but rather quite exciting.  If only Mother
would tell me to suck a cock I knew I would be happy doing it.

   I was completely lost in my fantasy and all the feelings that came with
it so I was completely unaware that the door to my room had opened.  But
finally I heard my Mother clear her throat to announce her presence and I
quickly dropped the boot from my mouth and positioned it to where hopefully
it would hide my raging young cock.  I looked and saw that my Mother was
carrying a basket of clothes.  Apparently she had brought them in to put
away not realizing that I was even in the room.  And I am positive she did
not realize what I was doing.  I wanted to crawl off the bed and crawl
under it but I could not do that without revealing what was under that
boot. I hoped that Mom would just walk out of the room and pretend that
nothing happened.  But that was not to be.  She came directly over to the
bed and picked up the boot I had already cleaned and inspected it, turning
it from side to side.  She even inspected the sole.  She then tried to pick
up the second boot but I held it firmly down with the arm that was still
inside it.  She was not to be denied however and her two arms lifting were
more than my one arm holding down.  She soon had the boot off of my lap and
was able to see my cock standing straight up from my lap.  She gave me a
big smile as she removed the boot from my arm and began to inspect that one
as she had the first.  It did not take her long to announce her findings.

   "I see I interrupted you before you had time to finish either of your
tasks.  This boot definitely needs more attention and the first one is not
finished as well.  And then she reached down and allowed her fingers to
squeeze the base of my cock.  And this looks like it needs some attention.
We really need to talk about this but I would rather we did it downstairs.
I am sure your Father will want to be a part of this as well.

   "Please Mom, don't tell Dad about this.  I will do anything you ask if
you just keep this one little secret."

   I am afraid, I cannot do that.  I do not keep secrets from your father.
What are you more ashamed of, licking my boots or jacking off?" "I guess I
am ashamed of both."

   "Well, you did not seem too devastated when I caught you.  Or was that
what you was hoping for.  Did you leave the door unlocked so that I would
catch you?  Have you been secretly hoping that I would walk in and catch
you with your cock in your hand?"

   "No, I swear, Mom.  I thought I had locked the door.  Please don't be
angry with me."

   I am not angry with you.  I might be just a little disappointed that you
felt you had to sneak my boots behind my back.  But then I can see how it
might have been embarrassing for you to come up and say.  "Mom is it okay
if I take your boots to my room and lick the dirt and dust off of them
while I jack off?  Come to think of it that is about the funniest thing I
have ever heard.  By the way, did they have enough flavor for you?  You
know my riding boots are probably covered with flavor.  And I know they
need a good cleaning.  Would you like me to bring them to you?"

   I could feel my face start to flush and I know that Mom saw it as well.
I want you to bring my boots down to the living room and we are going to
discuss this as a family.  I know your Father will understand, probably
better than I do.  And don't bother pulling your shorts back on.  I want
him to see you just like I found you when I came in.

   As she left the room I was so humiliated I wanted to die.  Imagine if
you will just being caught jacking off by your mother, but to have your
tongue on her boots at the same time.  And now she wanted me to come
downstairs and relive the whole thing in front of my Father.  I just could
not do it.  I quickly began to dress.  Perhaps I could sneak out of the
bedroom window and shimmy down the drain pipe.  I might break my neck of
course but that would be better than the alternative.  I raised the window
and carefully squeezed out and onto the slanted roof.  I dug the soles of
my tennis shoes into the shingles to get as much grasp as I could and began
slowly backing towards the eaves.  But just as I got near the edge my foot
slipped and I found myself sliding off the roof.  I grabbed the eave trough
and prayed that it would not separate from the eaves.  But apparently
prayers are never answered for those that lick their mother's boots.

   As the eave trough began to sway away from the edge of the roof, I knew
that I was going to fall.  I took a quick look below me and knew I would
have to be lucky not to be seriously hurt in the fall.  But then suddenly I
saw my Father pushing a ladder up against the house right under my feet. 
He must have heard the commotion and came out just in time to save me. 
With a sigh of relief I managed to get one foot and then the other onto the
ladder rungs and then grab the ladder with my hands.

   As I managed to climb to the ground I looked with embarrassment at my
Father.  He shook his head and looked up at the eaves trough.  You did
quite a bit of damage just trying to avoid facing up to your
responsibility. You were lucky your mother warned me of what you might try.
Otherwise I would not have been prepared to save you from yourself.  Now I
think you have an appointment in the living room.  And he took me by the
elbow and led me into the house.

   As I entered the living room, I tried to avoid eye contact with my
mother.  I did notice however that she had retrieved her boots from my room
and that they lay by her feet.  She had brought a hard wooden chair from
the kitchen and had sat it right in the middle of the room.  My Father led
me to it and had me sit down.

   "Jeremy, I am terribly disappointed in you." My Mother started.  "I
thought that I made myself clear as to what my wishes were when I left your
room." "Mom, you don't understand.  I just could not face you and Dad after
what you caught me doing."

   "And yet here you are." She said.  "I am going to relent and allow you
some dignity.  I will not insist on you taking off your shorts and
demonstrating for your father your masturbation technique.  But I do expect
you to answer my questions and any that your Father may want to ask as
well. Now I want you to tell your Father exactly what you were doing when I
brought the clothes basket into your room."

   "Do I have to Mom?  I am sure you have already told him." "Jeremy you
are digging a very deep hole for yourself.  You already have a punishment
coming for trying to sneak out of your bedroom window and for breaking the
eaves trough.  Do you want to add to it by disobeying me?"

   "Ok if I have to.  When Mom came in with the laundry she caught me
jacking off." I hesitated at that point, but my mother was having none of
that.  "Tell him what else you were doing."

   I hung my head and looked at the floor.  Tears of embarrassment welled
up in my eyes and my nose started to run.  I daubed at my nose with the
sleeve of my shirt and then wiped my eyes.  And then I stammered.  "I was
licking Mother's boots."

   I cast a glance at my Father to see how disgusted with me he might be. I
was surprised to see a slight smile on his face.  He was clenching his jaw
a little bit and it looked like he was trying not to laugh.

   He finally got control of himself and he said.  "Well that must have
been quite a sight.  It is not every day that a Mother catches her son
masturbating and licking her boots at the same time." And he could not help
but give a little chuckle.

   "Well, Timothy, I am glad you find this so humorous.  I ought to take
both of you out to the barn and use my horsewhip on your asses."

   "Oh, hell, Barbara." My Dad started.  "I notice that you didn't faint
dead away at the time.  Which part of what happened did you find so
terrible.  Was it that you caught Jeremy with his pants down around his
ankles or was it his having your boot heel in his mouth?"

   While this was going on I just sat there on that hard chair and tried to
keep my mouth shut.  I have to admit that I was surprised at how my Father
seemed to be rising up to my defense.

   My Mother looked like she was going to walk across the room and smack
him.  "You are not helping, you know?"

   Dad just shrugged his shoulders in reply.  "Just pretend I am not here
and carry on with your questions."

   "Jeremy," she began.  "I guess there must be something about my boots
that has a sexual connotation to you." And then she hesitated, I guess to
give herself time to think.  "Or perhaps I am personalizing this too much.
Maybe any boots would do the same for you.  Is that the case?"

   I thought carefully how to answer her.  I did not know if it would be
worse if I admitted my lust for just her boots or if I lied and said any
boots would do.  So I kind of went both ways.  "Mom, I will tell you that I
am attracted to women's high-heels, boots or otherwise.  And I suppose if
another woman walked in right now with the right footwear, I would probably
get hard.  But the fact that you have worn those boots is what really gets
me going.  I don't know if that answers your question?"

   "Where did you get the idea of boot worship, in the first place?  I find
it hard to believe that you just saw my boots laying on the floor and
decided you wanted to clean them with your tongue."

   I really did not know what to tell her.  I had been sneaking tastes of
her footwear for most of my life.  And since I became old enough to become
erect, I had been masturbating to the idea of being forced to lick her
boots and shoes.  "I guess maybe I saw something on the Internet." I lied.

   "Jeremy, go get your laptop and bring it to me right now.  And don't you
dare erase the cookies.  I want to see what you are spending your time
with."

   Well, that is what happens when you try to get out of one mess with a
lie.  Now I was in deep shit because when she sees what I have been surfing
she is going to lose all respect for me.  But having no other alternative I
went and retrieved the computer and brought it to her.  I opened the top
and typed in my password and handed the machine to her.  I was terribly
confused as to what to do next.  On one hand I wanted to be as far away
from her as possible but on the other hand I wanted to be as close to her
as possible.  So I did something completely unexpected and settled down on
my knees next to her leg.

   She gave me a strange look as if to ask me why I had done that.  I just
rested my head against the outside of her thigh without saying a word.  She
reached down and gently fluffed my hair and then squeezed my cheek. 
"Jeremy I am going to spend some time perusing your recent history.  In the
meantime you can use my tablet as long as you do not erase the history.  I
think it is time I found out much more about you than I presently know. 
Now we need to discuss your punishment for disobeying me and for ruining
the eave trough.  I am going to let you decide your own punishment as long
as it is reasonable for the acts it is intended to change.  Do you
understand?"

   "Yes, ma-am." I replied.  I thought long and hard but in my heart I knew
exactly what I wanted her to do.  I was just not sure how to get her to do
it.  Mother had never been a violent person but violence was what I craved.
She had given me a few over the knee spankings in the past but I wanted
something far more painful than that.  "Mom, I think I deserve to be
whipped."

   "You mean spanked don't you?"

   "No Mom, I don't think a normal spanking is a suitable punishment for
what I have done."

   "I really don't know what to say.  But if that is what you want, then
choose your instrument and bring it to me."

   I immediately got to my feet and made my way out to the horse barn. 
Hanging on the wall was Mother's riding crop.  I don't know why she had
one, she never used it on her horse.  I took it off the hook and went
directly back and with my head bowed handed it to her.

   She smacked it a couple times against her palm and said.  "You know this
is going to hurt?  How many strokes would you like?"

   She said that so mater of factly as if she was asking if I wanted one
cookie or two.

   "I think twenty of your best should be sufficient." I replied.

   "Where did you hear such a description, twenty of my best?"

   "I guess I have been reading too many stories of the sea.  When a man
was sentenced to be whipped for some offense the captain would always tell
the one doing the flogging to give him his best.  That was a warning
against going lightly in case the person being punished was a friend or
something."

   "Ok, if that is what you want, drop your shorts and climb over my lap."

   I was terribly embarrassed having to expose my genitals to my mother,
although why I have not the slightest idea.  It wasn't only an hour or so
ago that I had my cock in my hand while my Mother was in the room.  But I
was also sorry that Mom was wearing jeans and not shorts.  I thought how
pleasant it would be if my cock could make contact with her bare skin
instead of rough denim.

   I positioned myself as she had directed and clenched my teeth expecting
the worst.  She brought the whip down across my ass cheeks and it did sting
but nothing like it should.  She had not used anywhere near her full force.
Now, I have to explain to you that my Mother is a large woman.  Not fat
mind you but big boned and heavily muscled from years of working on a farm.
Lifting hay bales and turning sod with a spade had developed muscles that
most women do not have.  So I knew I was going to regret my next words. 
"Mom, that was not even close to your best.  If this is going to mean
anything put your weight into it."

   "You asked for it, remember that when you try to sit down later." And
she brought the whip down with all her might.  I had to clench my teeth as
tightly as possible to keep from crying out.  My whole ass felt like it was
on fire.  But it was exactly what I wanted.  I wanted the pain to purify
me. I wanted it to exorcise the demons that wandered around inside my empty
head.

   Again the whip rose and fell and again I bit down as the pain exploded
across my bottom.  She wasted no time in bringing another.  By this time
tears were flowing from my eyes and I knew that they were adding moisture
to the side of mom's pants.  If she felt them she might stop what she was
doing and I had not reached that stage that I had read about so often.  The
point where pain actually became enjoyable.  And as she brought the whip
down again and again, I never did get to what I was now beginning to
believe was a pure fantasy.

   Finally the last stroke fell and Mom helped me up off her lap.  She
wiped the tears from my face with a Kleenex she pulled from the box by her
chair and then daubed the moisture from my eyes as well.  She spent quite a
while looking at my bruised ass but she did not say anything other than to
tell me that I might have trouble sitting down.

   I looked up into her eyes and saw nothing but love in them and I leaned
over and gave her a big hug.  "Thank you for doing what needed to be done.
I am sure I will think twice before I disobey you again." And I kissed her
on the cheek pulled my pants up and then left the room."

   The Beginning Barbara's Story

   I could not believe my eyes as I walked into Jeremy's room carrying that
laundry basket.  I guess he was too engrossed in what he was doing to
notice his Mother standing in the doorway as he sucked on the heel of my
boot and pulled the skin of his cock with his other hand.  My first
inclination was to yell for him to stop what he was doing and to tell him
what a damned pervert he was.  But I also knew that was not going to
accomplish anything but to drive a wedge between us.

   So I allowed myself to calm down, dropped the basket on the end of his
bed and walked over and nonchalantly picked up the boot that was not
covering his groin.  I examined it carefully to find out if he had really
been licking it or if he had just used it as a prop to gain an erection. 
The evidence was plain.  His tongue had covered almost the entire boot with
the exception of the soles.  I then pried the other boot away from his
pubic area and off of his arm which he had stuck up into it as if it was a
leg.  I forced myself to inspect his manhood and was somewhat surprised to
see that he was still rock hard.  Surely being caught by your Mother with
your cock in your hand should be embarrassing enough to cause you to go
flaccid.  I told him that I could see he had not finished what he was doing
but that we needed to talk and to bring my boots with him down to the
living room.  I also told him his Father would be in attendance.  And to
make it as embarrassing as possible I told him not to pull his shorts up.
And then I left the room.

   When I got downstairs, I told his Father exactly what I had found his
son doing.  I don't know what I expected as a reaction, anger,
disappointment or shock but I was unprepared to hear Timothy start to
laugh.

   "What in hell, do you find so funny about Jeremy with his cock in one
hand and the heel of my boot stuck in his mouth.  For Christ's sake he was
sucking on it like it was a cock."

   And that caused Tim to crack up even harder.  When he finally got
control of his mirth he looked at me and said.  "I was just picturing the
look that must have been on your face.  So tell, me love, what did you do
next?"

   I wanted to switch his ass at first but then I wanted to find out why he
would be doing such a thing with my boots no less.  So I just went over
inspected the boots and told him to bring them down and you and I would
have a little chat about the situation.  He should be here by now."

   Tim went rushing out of the room and out the front door.  He was gone
for some time before he returned with young Jeremy in tow.  "Look what I
found hanging off the eaves," he stated.

   I have to tell you I was perhaps more disappointed with my son for
trying to escape his responsibility than I was for finding him in a
compromising position earlier.  When I suspected what he might be doing to
escape I had gone to the kitchen and brought in one of the hard chairs and
positioned it in the middle of the floor.  So I order Jeremy to sit down
and began to question him about what caused him to be doing what he was
with my boots.  He seemed to spend a lot of time looking at the floor and
avoiding my eyes so I figured he was probably trying to avoid telling me
the truth.  But he did say he had seen the activity on the Internet so I
told him to bring me his computer so I could check out the websites he was
visiting.

   I had not really gotten any good solid answers and did not figure I
would at this time so I asked him what he thought would be an equitable
punishment for sneaking out the window and breaking the eaves trough.  He
surprised me to no end when he suggested that I should whip him.  His
choice of words really threw me as he said whip not spank and so I asked
him to clarify what he meant.  After being convinced I had heard him
correctly I told him to go bring me whatever instrument he wanted me to
use. Again I was surprised when he came back with my riding crop.  Of
course that was not the most brutal instrument he could have chosen since
we actually have a bull whip hanging in the barn.  But if used properly a
crop can cause excruciating pain.  So I even allowed him to select the
number of strokes and he said 20 of your best.  I thought that was a
strange answer but he explained about ship's captains and boson mates and
punishments.  More than I ever wanted to know about humans whipping humans.
So I told him to drop his shorts and climb over my lap.  I figured I would
go easy on him as I really did not want to hurt the boy.  But he just would
not have it.  When that first stroke landed with about half power he
chastised me for going easy on him.  Well I did not want to disappoint the
lad either so I brought the next one with all my might.  By the time I had
finished his ass was a bright cherry color which I figured would turn black
and blue by the next day.  He had tears streaming down his face and
apparently had been crying for some time since the side of my pants leg was
soaked.  I helped him wipe away the tears and told him to go to his room.

   It took me a few minutes for my breathing to return to normal and then I
turned to my husband.  "Do you think we need to get him professional help?"
I asked.

   "Professional help?  As in a dominatrix?"

   "This is not a laughing matter, Timothy." I said with some emphasis. 
"It is obvious that our son has a problem.  Or do you think that it is a
normal thing for a young boy to lick the filth off of his mother's boots
while he is masturbating?  And then when asked about punishment he chooses
to be whipped.  Not spanked or sent to the corner or grounded for a week
but he actually brought me my crop.  That had to hurt like the dickens. 
Hell, I don't even use that thing on my horse.  Of course I have never
caught my horse masturbating either."

   "See you can find a little humor in the situation.  I don't know what
normal is.  How shocked would you be if I told you that I sometimes smelled
the leather of your boots?  I am not going to admit anything beyond that
however." "The whole damned family are perverts." I said.  "You know he is
going to be black and blue tomorrow.  We better hope that he doesn't need
to go to the doctor or I will probably end up in jail.

   "There is no doubt that the boy has some masochistic tendencies.  I bet
if you really look through his computer you will find a lot of pages with
leather clad women.  If that is the only fantasy he has, you may have
already cured him.  The idea of the whip is usually a lot different than
the reality of a bruised ass."

   "Well, what if I haven't cured him.  What if he keeps acting up in the
hopes that I will whip him again?  And what about his boot licking?  I am
afraid that he will contract some terrible disease by taking all of that
filth into his body."

   "Let's take it one step at a time.  If he tries to get you to whip him
again then I say do it.  And each time make it more painful than the last.
I noticed you stayed right on his buttocks.  My Mother learned early on
that I could take quite a lot of strokes to the ass but when she started
working the strap onto the top of my legs and the small of my back I caved
in pretty quickly.  And I would not worry too much about his getting sick
from licking your boots.  We breathe in more dirt everyday than what he
would ingest from running his tongue over your boots.  In fact I think that
you should force him to lick your boots and make sure he gets every drop of
dirt off of them.  And you might as well gain something from the
experience. I will teach him how to properly polish your boots so that they
are always bright and shining."

   "Well, maybe it is worth a shot.  I want to go over this computer some
and see what other perversions he might have.  We might just as well face
everything at once."

   Well, I did spend the rest of the afternoon going over website after
website.  Tim was correct in that many of them were of dominatrix with
whips and tall leather boots.  But then I also found some websites that
truly shocked me.  There were a lot of them that dealt with forced
feminization of young boys.  One was "bad boys to young girls" and it
touted the idea of panty and bra training for wayward lads.  At first I
discounted the idea as I could not fathom how putting a boy in girl's
clothing would alter his behavior.  But the more I read the more it began
to make sense.  It seems that the theory is that when boys dress like girls
they begin to take on the attributes of the female.  Especially if they are
forced to wear high-heels they supposedly become less aggressive.  I marked
that address so that I could bring it up when I confronted Jeremy.  I was
dying to hear what he had to say about being forced to wear dresses.

   After supper I again instructed Jeremy to join us in the living room. 
This time however, I did not bother with a chair, I just told him to kneel
at my feet facing me and to keep his head up so that I could see his eyes
when he answered my questions.  Something had told me to don my boots and I
saw him staring at them before I lifted his chin.  "Jeremy why do you think
I called you in here?"

   "I suppose you are going to tell me to stop licking your boots and
probably to stop masturbating."

   "Is that what you want me to tell you?" I asked.

   "Not really but I know how disappointed you were when you caught me
earlier."

   "I don't think that disappointed is the correct word." I corrected him.
"I think shocked might be a better word for my reaction."

   "So let's discuss your boot licking fantasy first.  I have talked it
over with your father.  My main concern is for your health.  It seems
though that you have been doing this for some time with no adverse effects
so I have decided since you want to do this, you need to learn to do it
correctly.  I want you to examine the boots I am wearing.  Do you recognize
them?"

   "Yes, ma-am, they are ones I had up in my room."

   "Now, take a good look at the right boot and tell me what you see."

   He picked it up by the heel and turned it one way and then the other. 
"I am not sure what you mean.  I do see one spot that is still dusty.  I
guess I must have missed that."

   "How about the rest of the boot?" I inquired.  "Is it really clean or
does it appear that the dirt was merely spread around on it?"

   "You are right, ma-am.  It does appear that I did not get the vast
majority of the dirt off of it.  I suppose I was in too much of a hurry
thinking about what my other hand was doing."

   "Ok, that is lesson number one.  You will keep both hands on my boots
until you are convinced that every drop of dirt has been removed from them
and swallowed by you.  You will bring me the boots for my inspection.  If
they are as clean as I expect them to be then you will be allowed to go
back to your room and polish them.  Your father will show you the proper
way to polish leather boots so that they shine enough so you can see your
reflection in them.  From now on I will expect all of my footwear to be
cleaned and polished."

   "Um Mom, does that include your riding boots?  I snuck a look at them
and I don't know if I want to eat what is around the top of the soles."

   "I will have to think about that.  Right now I am leaning towards and
all or nothing package.  If you had to choose between not being able to
lick any of my boots and licking them all which would you choose?"

   "I don't even have to think about that.  I would choose to lick them
all."

   "Then so be it, but I will allow you the concession of cleaning around
the seams with a damp cloth but anything above that will be cleaned with
your tongue.  Do we have a deal?"

   "Yes, ma-am absolutely, ma-am."

   "Now I want to show you a website I found that you had been following on
your computer.  Do you recognize this?"

   "Yes ma-am it is the forced fem site."

   "I notice that you go back to it almost every day so I have to assume
that you are fascinated by the idea.  Would you like me to put you in
girl's clothing?"

   "I don't know.  What really is interesting about that idea is the
humiliation factor.  It might be humiliating the first time you did it but
after that probably not."

   His candor about that subject really got me to thinking.  So what he was
looking for was humiliation.  Then perhaps the same was true of licking my
boots.  Maybe he really wanted to be forced to do that in front of other
people.  The more I thought about that the more I noticed myself getting
moist between my legs.  I felt my face begin to flush with shame as I
thought about actually following through on the thought.

   Just then Tim walked into the room and I figured I might just as well
test out my theory.  As Tim sat down across from me I told Jeremy to start
learning how to properly lick my boots.  "Jeremy there is no time like the
present for you to begin your lessons.  I want you to start licking my
boots from the top down.  When you feel your tongue start to drag it is
time for you to clean it.  Do you know how to do that?"

   "I am not sure.  I guess I could wipe it off on a Kleenex or something."

   "Well if you did that some of the dirt from my boots would not be
swallowed and I want every drop to go into your stomach.  So what I want
you to do is to get your tongue nice and wet with saliva and then scrape it
on your top teeth.  Do that a few times and then go back to licking the
leather.  The reason you start at the top is that they are cleaner there
and you can cover more ground before needing to clean your tongue.  By the
time you get to the soles you will have to clean it after almost every
stroke.  Now move off to the side a little so that I can see your tongue
work the leather and to give your Father a good view as well."

   I could see his face turn a bright shade of red and I knew he was
totally humiliated but he did not hesitate to perform his duty.  It took a
long time for him to finish those boots and I inspected his tongue many
times but when he was done they were exceptionally clean.  I then told him
to take them off and have his Father teach him to spit shine them.  And I
was sure that spit shine would have a special meaning.

   Learning to Serve Jeremy's View

   I could not believe what I was hearing my mother say.  She was actually
ordering me to lick her boots and not just the one pair but all her shoes
and boots would be my responsibility to keep cleaned.  Even her filthy
riding boots were to be licked clean although she did grant me the
concession of being allowed to clean the very worst of the filth off with a
wet rag but everything above where the sole connected to the upper would
have to be cleaned with my tongue.  She even taught me how to clean my
tongue so that I did not just spread the dirt around.  It really should
have been a dream come true but there is only so much dirt you can clean
off of boots with your tongue before you get tired of doing it.  And then
there was the polishing.

   My Father took me aside and showed me how to properly polish a pair of
boots.  First he laid newspapers on the floor of my room and then told me
to take off all my clothes.  I could not believe it when he told me that
but I soon understood why.  He said that polishing boots was a very messy
endeavor and there was no reason for me to get my clothes all messed up in
the process.  He gave me the tools of the trade, several tins of black
polish, a butane lighter and a brush stuffed inside of an old pair of panty
hose.  I asked him about a rag or sponge to apply the polish with and he
informed me that it worked best if I applied it with my bare fingers.  That
the heat of my flesh made working the polish into the leather easier.  I
was to apply coat after coat until nothing further would sink in.  Then
once the polish started to harden I was told to light the polish on fire
with the lighter and allow it to burn into the boots.  They were then set
aside until the polish had set.  He told me it worked even better if they
were put in a freezer overnight but that Mother would not allow boots to be
put in her freezer.  Then the next day I could wet them again with my
tongue and begin to buff them with the brush in the pantyhose.  It was a
long tedious process and I soon regretted getting myself into this
situation.

   I was quite proud of myself when I had finished with that first pair
however.  I had never seen a pair of boots shine better than those and I
was quite anxious to show my Mother.  She looked at them and was in fact
pleased.  "I absolutely love how you have made them shine.  I can't wait to
see how my riding boots will look when you finish with them.  I am going to
set a video camera up in your room.  I want to make sure that you do those
boots precisely how we discussed.  Remember you can use a wet cloth on the
soles and seams but that does not mean that you do not have to lick those
areas as well and the rest of the boots need to be licked clean with your
tongue.  You did such a nice job on these boots that I would like to give
you a little reward.  Do you want to masturbate?"

   I could not believe she asked me that.  I told her that I was quite
tired and perhaps I might want to later.  She said, "Oh no you don't get to
pick and choose when you play with yourself.  From now on you do everything
on my schedule.  You passed up the opportunity today so you will have to
wait until tomorrow when you bring me the riding boots.

   "Mom, I have decided that I do not want to do this anymore.  It seemed
much more enjoyable when it was just a fantasy.  I have learned my lesson."
"That is truly too bad, young man.  But you see I have decided I like the
idea of having a boot licking slave.  So get started on the rest of my
shoes and boots.  And if you don't get them done to my satisfaction or in a
timely manner that little whipping I gave you yesterday will seem like a
walk in the park."

   "Dear God, I created a monster." I thought.

   The End

   I write stories that I cannot find that other have written.  I hope you
enjoyed this piece.  If so drop me a word of encouragement.  If you did not
like it please inform me as to what you would like me to do differently. 
My email address is: bootslover4u@yahoo.com