Date: Sun, 19 Mar 2017 22:06:01 +0000 (UTC)
From: J H <jbcountry@yahoo.com>
Subject: Living Under the Boot of Rick - Country Boy Domination Part II

Living Under the Boot of Rick – Country Boy Domination |Part II
Author: JB
jbcountry@yahoo.com

NOTE: All characters portrayed in this story are a work of fiction.  It
contains ideas and scenarios sexually graphic and intended for a mature
reader only!

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Part II

It was an uncomfortable ride home.  Even though Tommy blew the biggest load
he ever recalled, he was still rock hard after being skull fucked by Rick.
He never dreamed that he would become a sub for the sexiest country boy he
had ever seen.  It was as if he hit the `sub lottery.'

He really liked Rick.  `What's not to like?' Tommy thought, `tall, lean,
cut, aggressive, and a huge cock to boot.'  Boot.  He thought about Rick's
massive dirty boots.  Licking them clean was much more of a chore then he
ever imagined.  It was erotic but disgusting all at the same time.  He
figured a kiss or a swipe here and there was typical; but not for Rick.
Rick expected the job done complete and done well.  He had made him lick
them clean the day before and mentioned it again this evening.  `He's bound
to get bored of it,' Tommy thought to himself, `Right?'

The next day was Thursday.  A Thursday filled with his new schedule:
school, work, and serving Rick.  Tommy left his house in a great mood just
dreaming about the opportunity to `relieve a little more pressure' for
Rick.  As he walked through the halls of the high school he saw Rick with
some of his jock friends coming towards him.  "Hey Rick," Tommy said.  Rick
gave no reply.  Tommy instantly began to worry.  Did Rick not hear him?
Should he not speak to him at school?  He understood his place with Rick.
However he worked for his family; it stood to reason they would be on
speaking terms. Right?  Shortly after Tommy's phone buzzed inside his
pocket.  He instantly knew that it was Rick texting.  He broke out into a
cold sweat as he pulled out his phone to check.  Sure enough the text was
from Rick.  `WTF fag thats 1' The somewhat cryptic message worried Tommy.
`One what?' Tommy thought.  He was sure of two things now: Don't speak to
Rick at school and he was in trouble.

The incident at school haunted Tommy for the rest of the day.  He was a
little nervous as he pulled into the stable's parking lot.  Rick's dad
would not be there this evening and Rick's large Chevy truck was already
parked.  Tommy entered into the barn and saw Rick brushing his horse Tank.
It was only him and Rick in the barn.  Rick motioned for Tommy to come
close.

"Get over here faggot," Rick commanded.  Tommy approached cautiously.  "I
can see that your dumb ass will require a lot of training.  My friends talk
to me at school and they know me as Rick.  You, fag, address me as `master'
or `sir' and speak only when spoken to!  Got it?"

"Yes sir," Tommy replied softly, "It won't happen again."

Rick put his finger in Tommy's face nearly touching his nose and barked,
"It better not!  You have one strike now.  I know you faggots are useless
at sports but I guess you're smart enough to know three strikes means
trouble."  Rick paused expecting a response.  "Well do you?" Rick asked
impatiently.

"Yes sir," Tommy answered.

Rick dropped his finger from Tommy's face and stepped close with his chest
swelled and warned, "Don't get three strikes fag; don't get three strikes!"
Tommy just shook his head affirmatively.  He did not know what three
strikes would mean; but he was sure he did not want to find out.

"I have a little job for you," Rick said and he picked up a bucket with a
bottle of shampoo, a small wash cloth, and a tooth brush. "Follow me."
Rick led Tommy back out to the parking lot.  The two approached Rick's very
large, very dirt truck.  Rick forced the bucket into Tommy's chest and
Tommy seized it; careful not to drop it.  Rick looked at his truck and then
he looked at Tommy and said, "Tomorrow's game night.  It better sparkle."
Rick said nothing more and then he returned back to the barn to go for a
ride.

Tommy looked the truck up and down.  Mud was caked all over the wheel
wells, splashed along the side panels, and speckled all over the body.
Tommy picked up the pathetic little washcloth and toothbrush and thought,
`this will take a while.'

It was tedious job.  Tommy pulled the water hose out and rinsed the truck
allowing the mud to soften.  He carefully wiped each part down several
times; making new wash water often to ensure a good job.  It was difficult
to clean the grill around the bars of the mounted brush guard but with the
help of the toothbrush it was doable.  He took his time with the wheels
making sure that all debris was removed from all the nooks and crannies.
After the first washing Tommy thought it best to go over it again.  The
second washing went much faster.  Tommy was rinsing it off when Rick rode
into the barn and tied his horse up to cool down.  Rick made his way to
Tommy and his truck, crossed his arms, and said nothing.

"I just finished master."  Tommy said.  "What do you think?"

"Finished?" Rick questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Tommy very hesitantly replied, "Yes sir."

Without saying another word Rick climbed into the truck and sped down the
gravel driveway.  He veered off into an unfenced part of the property and
drove around a dirt path near some woods.  The truck was engulfed in a huge
dust cloud.  After a couple of laps Rick drove back to the parking lot.  He
parked and jump out of the truck to inspect it.  The dust had clung to
nearly every square inch of the truck's body from where Tommy had just
rinsed it.

"I don't know."  Rick commented sarcastically, "What do you think?"

Tommy said nothing.

"Did you forget something?"  Rick questioned.  After all his efforts Tommy
could not believe Rick had done that.  "Perhaps you should have dried it."

"I didn't have a towel sir." Tommy replied with a tremble in his voice.

Rick seized the bottom of Tommy's shirt and pulled it up and away from his
body.  Tommy felt like a rag doll.  Rick was so strong and he was so
inferior.  Rick tossed his shirt on the ground at Tommy's feet saying,
"That will work.  Now do it again and do it right this time."

"Yes sir."  Tommy said picking up his shirt.

As Rick walked back into the barn to tend to his horse Tommy noticed him
holding up two fingers as he yelled, "That's two fag!"

Rick was sitting in a folding chair by Tank's stall playing a game on his
phone.  He was enjoying a huge dip when Tommy was finished washing his
truck again.  The job did not take too long because the dust washed off
quite easily.  Tommy noticed an amused look on Rick's face as he approached
wearing a very wet shirt.  Tommy returned the wash bucket to its proper
place then picked up a pitch fork and muck bucket to finally begin his
work.

"Put those down and come here." Rick commanded as he put his phone in his
pocket and rose from the chair.  Tommy complied.  Rick spat relieving the
mouth full of tobacco spit and asked, "Do you half ass everything you do?"

"I try not to sir."  Tommy answered.

"Well you did a half ass job washing my truck wasting my time while you
fixed your fuckup and while I waited it occurred to me that you didn't even
finish cleaning my boots the other day."  Rick said in a very serious tone.
Tommy wasn't sure what he was talking about.  He had licked his boots until
his tongue nearly bled.  "How about you finish the job now?  On your back
fag."

"On my back?"

Rick held up a clinched fist and stated, "You can get down there and lay on
your back on your own; or I can do it for you.  You choose."

Without another word Tommy laid down on the dirt floor.  He could feel the
dirt clinging to his damp shirt.  Rick walked up to his shoulder and with
his right boot tapped Tommy's mouth twice and said, "That's better.  Open
up, tongue out."  Tommy knew better than to argue.  He already had two
strikes and he was really beginning to fear what three strikes might mean.
He opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out knowing what was about to
happen.  Rick stood on his left leg and wiped the bottom of his dirty right
boot over and over again on Tommy's face and exposed tongue.  Rick's boots
were treaded and his mouth quickly filled with whatever was stuck between
the treads.  After several swipes Rick moved to the other side of Tommy and
repeated the process with his left boot.  When he was finished Rick
instructed, "Now get to mucking out these stalls and don't even think about
spitting the shit from my boots out.  I will be back soon to check."  With
that Rick spit again.  Only this time his tobacco spit landed on Tommy's
chest.  Then he went to his truck and drove off.

Tommy did not know what to do.  He could feel the filth in his mouth
dissolving and causing him to drool.  For a second Tommy thought about
rinsing out his mouth despite of Rick's warning.  But then he thought about
his two strikes and he decided to clean the stalls as instructed; with a
mouth full of boot crap.

When Tommy was done mucking out the stalls, feeding the horses some hay,
and making sure they had water he came to the conclusion that Rick was not
coming back.  He had mind fucked him into leaving the shit from his boots
in his mouth the entire time.  Of course there was nearly anything left.
In his futile attempts to retain the filth as instructed he swallowed most
of it.  Rick was using him and treating him just like the little bitch he
was.  On his way home Tommy thought about two things: when would he be able
to suck Rick's dick again and what would the third strike bring?

Game night.  Tommy rarely attended the football games at his last school.
He was surprised at the turn out to the game.  So many people came to
watch.  He didn't even think there was that many people who lived in this
small town.  The thunderous cheers as the players stormed the field just
reinforced to Tommy how superior they were.  I am lucky to serve Rick –
a football player – a stud – the quarterback!  He watched intently
the offensive plays just hoping that he would see his master run over,
stomp, stiff arm, or cause any pain to the opposing team.  However, Tommy
deduced that either his school's team was far superior or the other team
sucked or some combination of the two because it was little contest.  They
destroyed them!  45 to 13.  The other team only scored because they pulled
all the starters and, even though he could not watch Rick dominate on the
field, he studied his jock god-like physique from behind as Rick stood,
arms crossed, critiquing the second string players.  What an alpha Rick
was; even for the other alphas!

For the rest of the night and most of Saturday morning Tommy was bored.  He
didn't have to work until later Saturday evening.  Saturday mornings and
afternoons are a busy time at the stable.  He was told that people who
board there would always come and exercise their horses on the weekends
during those times.  He finally decided around lunchtime Saturday he would
watch a movie and relax.  Tommy had just popped in his favorite DVD when
his phone buzzed.  Tommy looked anxiously hoping it was Rick.  It was!
There was no text but a picture loading.  (The cell service was not great
so it took a moment to load.)  His excitement brimmed as he wondered what
pic Rick might be sending him.  His excitement soon ceased when it was a
picture of a piece of paper.  When Tommy zoomed in he realized it was an
essay question; the one Rick told him he would be writing.  Shit!  Another
text message followed from Rick.  `send paper 2nite.'  Then another.  `dont
halfass.'  Then the last one, `dont get a strike!!!!!!!!.'  Tommy stopped
his DVD for he now knew what he'd be doing on his afternoon off.

 Around dinner time Tommy had finished writing Rick's essay.  He had spent
more time on Rick's assignment then he ever did on one of his own!  He sent
the document to Rick and got a quick reply back, `better b great.'  Tommy
realized that was probably the extent of his master's gratitude.  After
eating dinner with his mom he headed for work.  There was nobody at the
barn so Tommy went straight to work.  He was just finishing up when he
heard a vehicle driving up; it was Rick!  Tommy was excited and nervous.
The truck pulled up to the barn's open doors.  The headlights beamed into
the hallway.  Rick rolled down the window and hollered for Tommy.

"Get in," Rick commanded.  Tommy walked toward the passenger door.  It was
locked.  Rick cracked the passenger side window and said, "Shot gun seat is
for my boys; fags ride in the bed."  So Tommy walked around to the rear of
the truck and step onto the large trailer hitch and climbed into the bed.
He was nervous.  He had never rode in the back of a truck before and he was
unsure about what Rick was up to.

They didn't drive far.  Rick veered off into the dirt lane and drove to the
edge of some woods.  The moon was bright but it was still dark and Tommy
was getting more and more nervous.  Rick got out and walked over to the
tailgate and lowered it.  He had backed up to a small hill.  "This should
work nicely," Rick commented to himself.  "Time to treat you for writing
that essay.  It looked pretty good.  Lay on your back, head towards me."
Tommy complied but his head laid flat barely on the tailgate.

"Geez you're a dumbass; do you want my seed or not?"  Then Rick grabbed
Tommy by his arms and pulled him far enough back where his head drooped off
the tailgate.  "Dinner time for the faggot," Rick said whipping his large
cock out.  The thought of throat fucking Tommy must have been arousing
because Rick was rock hard.  Between the hill and how tall Rick was his
dick was lined up with Tommy's hungry mouth.  Rick grabbed each of Tommy's
arms and pinned him to the truck and entered his mouth.  "If I feel teeth
they get knocked out."  Rick warned and then Rick began thrusting his cock.
Tommy's throat was raped!  It felt as if Rick's cock would bust through in
this position.  Rick did not let him breathe as before.  He mumbled for
some mercy and Rick squeezed his arms tight.  With his mouth full Tommy
scraped his teeth on Rick's cock for just a moment.  `What grip strength
Rick has,' Tommy thought to himself!  His squeeze was almost as painful as
his throat bashing.  Rick did pull out for a few seconds to let Tommy
breathe but he was quick to start again.  Towards the end Rick growled,
"Those teeth cost you your dinner."  He then pulled out and with his left
hand seized Tommy by the throat immobilizing his head and with his right
hand finished by stroking his throbbing cock.  Before long ropes and ropes
of Rick's cum blasted his exposed face.  Tommy laid still with Rick's seed
plastered in his left eye, nose, both cheeks and hair.

"Jump down," Rick commanded while he was zipping up.  Tommy raised his hand
to wipe his eye and Rick seized it before he could.  "Don't even fucking
think about that!  Here's what you're gonna do.  When you get home tonight
text me a pic of you faggot face.  I expect you to still be wearing all of
my jiz; got it?"

"Yes master," Tommy said obediently.

Rick said nothing more.  He got back in his truck and drove away.  With his
left eye glued shut Tommy started walking back to his car with Rick's
facial intact.

When Tommy got home went to his room.  He was glad his mother worked the
night shift for fear that she would see Rick's cum plastered to his face.
He did not want to explain that.  He gazed into his mirror admiring the
work of his master.  `Stupid teeth,' Tommy thought scolding himself.  He
want Rick's load shot down his throat; not wasted on his face.  Tommy half
wished that Rick made good on his promise of knocking his teeth out for
that infraction.  After berating himself he took out his phone and snapped
a picture.  He texted it to Rick with the caption, `I obeyed master.'

Rick texted back, `r u sure it looks like its been wiped off.'

Tommy in a panic responded, `No master it just dried – your cum is still
on my face'

Then reality hit Tommy.  He had just sent a picture of his face with
visible semen plastered to it along with another text professing what it
was.  Rick now had indisputable evidence against him.  He phone buzzed
again, `ur mine now fag I own u'

`Shit,' Tommy thought, `No way out now.'