by Omerod Home
The schoolroom was quiet except for the panting of the exhausted athletes and a low moan from the filthy fucked out heap of Newton Russell lying on his belly on the floor surrounded by the bloody safety pins that had been ripped from his flesh.
"What the fuck is this?" a deep voice boomed.
The boys' eyes flew open. They sat up quickly at the sound.
Russell raised his head from the floor. He saw a pair of shiny black boots standing in the doorway. The teacher's heart leapt. The police officer assigned to patrol the school had come at last. He was saved. Russell summoned up every once of strength he had. He crawled toward the boots.
Andy Duncan stepped into the room. Tall, dark and handsome with a shadow of black beard on his square jaw and with every raven lock in place, he looked every inch a hero. His dark blue uniform stretched over his muscular body like a second skin. His utility belt circled his slim waist like a magic girdle of mythology hung with the weapons needed to make him invincible. He stood like superman with his hands on his hips and his legs spread.
Russell reached the officer's black boots. He wrapped his arms around one of the man's leather covered legs.
"Help me," Russell gasped as he looked up to the officer's handsome face, "Please help me."
Andy drew his baton from his side. He held it in one hand. He tapped the end of the heavy wooden club into the palm of his other hand.
"As long as you're down there, Professor Russell," Andy's handsome face twisted into an ugly sneer as he spoke, "kiss my boots."
"What?" Russell looked up at the snarling policeman with a look of disbelief, "You ... you're a policeman!"
"I'm only a policeman because you ruined my chances at football by getting me expelled...."
Andy spat the words like venom,
"You screwed me back in High School, Professor Russell, so I'm going to screw you now."
Andy dropped the end of the baton from his hand. He poked the hard wooden snout of the stick between the teacher's shoulder blades. He shoved the man's face down toward his booted feet.
"Kiss my boots, Professor," the big policeman commanded.
"Yeah, Newtie," Tommy sneered, "kiss Andy's boots."
"Use you're tongue, Teach," Antwon urged the teacher on. "Get that leather all spit shiny and bright."
"Do it, Newt," Grady added, "you know you want to. Big balled, hairy dicked cop's boots are staring right at you.
Xxxx"Lick his boots and maybe he'll let you lick his sweaty balls before he fucks you. You want that, Newt. You know you do."
The big cop grinned with satisfaction. He and the three sadistic wrestler's roared with laughter as the teacher moaned, lowered his head and touched his swollen lips to the shiny black leather.
Russell kissed. He licked. He lapped. He slurped. He washed his swollen tongue over every square inch of the cop's boots. He licked them from toe to heel and up the calf. He tongued the welts. He dug the dirt out of the grooves. He licked one boot and then the other. He swallowed dirt and crumbs of dog shit.
Russell filled his mouth with the taste of leather. He grunted. He groaned. He slobbered. He sweat. He bled. He moaned. His wounded dick grew long and thick. It raised its head. It dribbled pink precum made thick by chalk dust from its pierced lips..
Andy grew tired of the game. He shoved the teacher's face back with the toe of one spit shiny boot.
"That's enough, Prof," he said. "I got better things for you to use your tongue on."
To be continued
