He Gets a “Sole”-ful Spanking When He Fails to Complete His Boot-Blacking Duties

Before any big leather event, my master makes me polish his boots so that he’ll look his best. Boot blacking has always been a part of our relationship, and it’s probably one of my favorite parts. He’s very demanding, and the slightest smudge is a fatal error as far as he’s concerned. Knowing that the tiniest mistake will land me in hot water is probably the biggest turn-on of all. I get aroused by the incredibly hot punishments that typically follow one of my flubs.

Recently, Jack bought a new paddle to use specifically when I mess up during boot blacking. The long wooden implement has a thick rubber boot sole attached to it, making it the perfect tool to use on a boot slave like myself. If I weren’t so eager to show my master that I can follow orders and expertly wield the boot-polishing brush, I would probably fuck up on purpose just so he’d use that paddle. But I’m far too much of a stickler for the rules to ever try that.

Lucky for me, I’m absentminded enough to warrant the frequent punishments that keep me sexually satisfied. Take Saturday night, for instance. My master had been invited to a party for local leather bears, and he had ordered me to get his outfit together and polish his boots by Friday evening. Unfortunately, that week I ended up having to work late every night, and my responsibilities as a boot slave fell to the wayside.

When I walked in the door Saturday morning, Jack demanded that I present his outfit and boots to him for inspection. Of course, I’d failed to complete my chores and Jack was not pleased. His face turned bright red and his hands clenched into fists, and I hung my head as I waited for him to explode. He was mad, and I was about to get the punishment of a lifetime. The silver lining was that I knew Jack would bring out my favorite paddle for the spanking I was about to receive.

Jack stomped through the house, leading me to the side door and out into the garage. The three-car garage has been modified to function as a workshop and dungeon. His unpolished boots were sitting in the middle of the floor, a can of polish and my boot-blacking kit untouched next to them. My master simply glared straight ahead, but I didn’t need him to tell me what to do. I knew exactly what was expected, and I got right to work.

With Jack watching closely, I dropped to my knees in front of his boots and unscrewed the cap on the small can of polish. I rolled up my sleeves—I was dressed in my khakis and a button-up—grabbed a rag from my kit, dipped it in the can, and started to rub it over the right boot. My master’s boots were horribly scuffed from wear, and it took a lot of elbow grease to make the ashy gray lines disappear under the thick black polish. They hadn’t looked that bad when I’d taken them out for him earlier in the week, but I suspected my failure to show up the night before had left him with plenty of time to do some extra damage.

It seemed to take hours to get the first boot polished and buffed to the perfect shine, and that didn’t please my master. He clearly wanted me to work faster, and he started yelling at me, telling me that if I were a better submissive, I would have done my chores when I was supposed to and he wouldn’t have to waste his morning babysitting me.

His anger was a huge turn-on, and I felt my cock get hard under my slacks. I tried my best to seem contrite, but it was hard to hide my arousal from my master. He growled about how I shouldn’t be so excited, but a moment later he walked over to his workbench and grabbed the special paddle, the one he knows excites me most. The mere sight of it in his hands was enough to make my dick throb, and I knew that in a few moments there might very well be a visible wet spot on the front of my pants.

Jack stood over me and smacked the paddle against his hand as he scrutinized my work. The faster the implement struck his palm, the faster I worked. I polished his left boot as quickly as possible, but things got messy, and I was soon covered in black boot polish. My master’s boots had the perfect shine, but I looked like hell. My shirt and slacks were ruined, but I still presented Jack’s boots with pride.

I was happy to see him smile as he studied my handiwork, but after he took his gleaming footwear away from me, I knew I had to face the music. After he pointed out that my excellent spit shine didn’t excuse my behavior, he told me to stand up, lean against his workbench, and pull down my pants. Then, when my ass was bared, he swung the paddle and hit me right in the middle of my butt. The rubber boot sole landed with a loud thud, and I felt the treads dig into my flesh. The paddle’s impact felt intense, and I eagerly anticipated the next spank, which couldn’t come soon enough.

Sensing my excitement—my bobbing cock and quiet sighs gave me away—Jack held off on delivering the second smack for several long, agonizing moments. My fingers dug into the wooden table as I waited for the paddle to hit again, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from begging for more. I knew asking to be spanked, especially when I was already in trouble, would only land me in hotter water. Jack made the punishment worth the wait, though, and the next smack was even harder than the first. My whole body rocked when the paddle hit, and I couldn’t help letting out a low moan of pleasure. Luckily, Jack didn’t hear it, as he was already gearing up for the next swing. This time, he didn’t make me wait, the next smack landing only a split second later, and it was followed by at least a dozen more rapid swats.

The more Jack spanked me, the more aroused I became, and soon my hard cock was dripping precome and on the verge of going off like a geyser. The paddle was delivering equal amounts of pain and pleasure, and the combination was about to send me over the edge.

My master ended the spanking after a few more smacks, and, satisfied that I’d learned my lesson, he told me to turn around and get on my knees again. As a reward for taking my spanking like a man, he said I could suck him to completion. I was hoping for a climax of my own, but getting his cock in my mouth was a more than acceptable alternative, and I eagerly fell to the floor as he unzipped his jeans. His thick cock sprang out, and I leaned forward to take the head between my lips. My hands were still covered with boot polish, so I couldn’t touch him, but I made do with only my lips and tongue. After sucking the head into my mouth, I swirled my tongue around the crown, licking up the salty precome that had begun to drip out. Then I sucked him deeper, letting my tongue trace the thick, throbbing veins that ran along his dick.

It wasn’t easy to give him the blowjob he deserved without being able to use my hands, but I eventually managed to deep-throat him the way he likes. He must have liked what I was doing, because I felt his cock pulse between my lips a moment before he shot a thick load of cream down my throat. I happily swallowed every drop, making sure not a single speck was left when he pulled his cock from my mouth.

Finally, he allowed me to come, and he even handed me a clean rag so I wouldn’t get black polish all over my dick. I jerked off faster than I ever had before, and I climaxed within seconds. Of course, I hadn’t been paying attention to where my dick was aimed, and when I looked down at my spent cock, I realized that I’d sprayed my load all over the leather shoes my master was wearing.

Jack noticed right away what I’d done, and he bent to untie his shoes before stepping out of them. He pushed the shoes toward me with his toes, tossed me a can of brown polish from the workbench, and stepped back. I had a feeling I had a long day ahead of me. But since Jack was still holding the paddle, I didn’t really mind.

—Mr. Logan W., Portland, Oregon