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“No boy, I still don’t think that’s shiny enough, do you?”
He shivered again, felt the leather glove against his scalp as he pulled the brush back, looking down at the boots of his master–
Master? No, this was…who was he again?
Coworker? They came to the convention together, didn’t they? But he’d come back to discover this…older man in these leathers, who had complained that his boy hadn’t shined his boots properly, and now here he was, trying as hard as he could. Why wasn’t anything good enough?
“Don’t be sorry, just fix it boy.”
The leather glove on his hand was firmer now, pressing down.
“Go on, look closer. See those smudges? Looks like shit, boy, you can do better for daddy.”
The leather was so shiny he could see his reflection, though in the curve of the black, he seemed to be warped. His face seemed so smooth, as smooth as the boot. Where had his beard gone? Where had his hair gone? The glove weighed him down, and he found himself moving closer still to the top of the boot, fear and a strange exhilaration overwhelming him. Licking the leather, tasting the boot black, it seemed so natural. Proper.
He was cold. Naked. Bent over as he was, he saw his suit had disappeared. His body was as smooth as his face, as smooth as the boot. Flabby, underdeveloped. His one accessory was the metal cage around his puny cock and balls, to keep his boymeat in check.
Daddy allowed him up, and he inspected the surface. “Better boy.” Now the other one. The boy’s cock throbbed in his cage and he leapt to the other boot, hungry for the flavor of leather now, tongue black, teeth gritty, but anything for his daddy, anything.