[EDITOR’S NOTE: The story of the skinhead bootslave, which took up the bulk of Issue 6 (July/August 1988), remains a favorite of mine. Since the two stories included in that issue describe very different situations and took place at very different times (1969 and 1983), I'll post them one at a time. BW]
Living in a small town in the North of England hadn't done much to teach me about sex. At 14, I was totally innocent—I knew I liked looking at other boys in the shower at school, but didn't know what to do about it. Gordon would soon rectify that.
He was my best mate at school—a year older than me and a real skinhead—cute and clean looking, but his closely cropped blond hair, big shiny, combat-style skinhead boots and tough, aggressive attitude would make him seem threatening if you didn't know him. He was always getting into trouble for wearing his boots to school, but he didn't give a shit. Every break and lunchtime we'd go behind the bike sheds for a cigarette—it didn't take me long to realise that every time I was near Gordon I got a hard on—more confusion.
One lunchtime we were having a smoke when he suggested that we miss afternoon classes and go round to his house. I thought "what the hell" and agreed. He lived close to the school, so ten minutes later we were in his bedroom. Saying that he was getting changed, he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, revealing his smooth, boyishly muscled body—strong shoulders and arms, shapely little chest, and washboard stomach. He stood over me and sneered as he looked down at me.
"I want you to get down on your knees and lick my fucking boots."
I laughed - "I don't think I could do that Gordon."
An unexpected slap soon took the smile off my face.
"I wasn't fucking joking, and I wasn't asking you to do it, I'm telling you. Now get on your fucking knees."
I was suddenly scared, very scared, so I obeyed. I was almost in tears as I looked at the big shiny boots just inches away from my face.
"Lick them."
I started to lick the toe-cap of one boot, tentatively at first, then more eagerly as I realised I was enjoying it. I could feel my cock growing and getting hard.
"You fucking slag, you love it don't you?"
He made me spend about ten minutes licking them all over.
"Stop. Now unlace them and take them off." I did as I was told. "Now the socks, and give them to me… put your arms down by your side and don't even think of struggling."
He put one hand behind my head, and with the other, covered my nose and mouth with the socks.
"Sniff them, breathe really deeply."
I couldn't believe what was happening, it felt so humiliating, but the smell of sweaty feet and boot leather was really turning me on. Still holding the socks over my face he unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off, then reached down, unzipped my trousers, pulled out my hard cock, and started playing with it. I'd dreamt about a boy playing with my cock, this was incredible.
What happened next surprised me even more. He knelt behind me, pulled my arms behind my back, and tied my wrists together with one of the socks. He pulled me up and pushed me onto the bed on my back. I watched as he took his trousers off, then stood by the bed, rubbing the front of his tiny purple briefs.
"I'm going to make you do exactly what my girlfriend does for me."
He eased his briefs down, and for the first time in my life I saw a naked boy with an erection—I wanted him so bad.
He pulled off my trousers and briefs and knelt over me with his face inches away from mine.
"You like boys don't you?"
"No."
Another hard slap brought me to my senses.
"Tell the truth or I'll really hurt you. You like boys don't you?"
"Yes."
He sneered. "You fucking queer, I've noticed the way you look at me." He spat in my face and rubbed it all over, then forced two fingers in my mouth and made me suck them. "Get used to it, you'll be sucking more than my fingers soon."
Gripping my head between his hands, he forced his mouth against mine and began to kiss me savagely and passionately. As his hard young body thrust against me, I could feel our cocks rubbing together, fuck it felt good. He reached down, clenched his fist round my cock and started to wank me.
"Do you want me to toss you off?"
"Oh yes Gordon, yes."
I cried out in pain as he grabbed my balls and twisted them hard. "That's your first mistake slag. You're mine, and you don't tell me what you want. Got it?"
"Yes."
He knelt over my face, and to my shock, rubbed the tip of his cock against my lips.
"Open up."
When I hesitated, he slapped me and spit in my face again.
"I fucking said open up, so do it."
He rammed his tool in my mouth and I gagged.
"Yeah, choke on it bitch, now get sucking."
I obeyed—shocked by what he was doing to me, but unexplainably turned on—there I was, naked, tied up, with a dirty, muscular young skinhead boy's cock in my mouth. As I sucked he moaned obscenities, thrusting faster and faster, really pumping my face. Maybe five minutes passed and my jaws began to ache.
"Oh fuck I'm going to shoot."
I tried to turn my head away, I thought I'd throw up if he shot in my mouth, but he gripped my head even harder.
"No way queer, you're gonna take it, oh fuck, oh fuck!"
He cried out as the first bolt of hot creamy spunk hit the back of my throat. I was surprised to find it was sweet as I swallowed it—I had no choice anyway.
Eventually his thrusts subsided, he got off and I started to sit up.
"Did I say you could move?"
"No."
"Well fucking stay there until I come back."
He left the room and returned a couple of minutes later with some lengths of rope—shit, what was he going to do now? He turned me face down, untied me, and retied my wrists with the rope, much tighter than the sock had been. Then he spread my legs wide, tied each ankle to the corner of the bed, and left me there. I heard him go into the bathroom and showering, and it seemed like an eternity before he returned. He walked back in—he was naked, but he'd put his boots back on—he had an erection again, and his huge cock was smeared with vaseline. He stood where I could see him and played with himself.
"I've never fucked another boy, and I know you've never had a cock up your arse. This could be interesting."
With horror, I suddenly realised what he intended to do to me. I began to struggle against the ropes and shouted "No please don't, don't do that to me."
He jumped on top of me and forced my bound wrists up my back, causing considerable pain.
"Listen cunt, I'm going to fuck you whether you want me to or not—fucking take this."
He rammed the head of his cock inside me—nothing happened for a moment, then the wave of pain hit me—it felt like I was being split in two.
"Take it out, take it out" I screamed.
In response he forced my face into the pillow to muffle my shouts and continued to push his cock deeper into my tight virgin arse.
I sobbed as the tough young skinhead raped me, impaling me with his cock. Finally I could feel that he was all the way in—he wrapped his strong arms round me, and just lay there on top of me, letting me get used to having it inside me. As the pain slowly receded, it was replaced by a feeling of over-whelming pleasure.
"Oh fuck me Gordon, give it to me."
"You want it rough?"
"Oh yeah, fuck my brains out."
He began to fuck me—slowly at first, building in power and intensity until his hard young body was slamming against mine, almost pulling his cock all the way out before ramming it back in. The ropes were biting into my wrists and ankles, but I didn't care. We both moaned uncontrollably as his thrusts grew more frenzied—he reached under me, gripped my cock and wanked me as he fucked. Faster, faster…
"Take it bitch, fucking take it!"
He cried out as he shot his load deep inside me, and at the same time I began to shoot—it felt like I'd died and gone to heaven.
After that day Gordon took every opportunity to use and abuse me. Instead of going behind the bike sheds at lunchtime, he'd take me into a cubicle in the boys' toilets where he'd force me to my knees and make me lick his boots and suck him off. Once or twice a week he'd take me home, and although I knew it would mean being tied up, being verbally abused and humiliated and raped, I submitted willingly. In a few short weeks I went from a virgin to a fully fledged skinhead's bootboy.
All good things come to an end—one afternoon his mother came home early from work and nearly caught us at it. Next day at school Gordon told me that our sessions would have to stop. "If they caught me fucking a girl, I'd be in trouble, but if they caught me doing something queer, my Dad would fuck-ing kill me." I didn't get the chance to serve another skinhead for several years, but it was well worth the wait.
Totally awesome story! Would love to be that skinhead's bootboy as well!
Posted by: TEX | December 01, 2006 at 12:01 PM