In which Slave Barb seduces someone who’s not into “that kinky submission stuff” into letting her polish his boots:

“You are not going to the show wearing those boots, are you?� I teased.

“Why not? What’s wrong with them?� he looked down, turning his foot from side to side.

“They’re filthy and they look like hell. You should let me clean them up for you.�

He stared hard at me. “Look, I know you’re in to all that kinky submission stuff, but I am not. And I am not interested.�

“I offered to clean and shine your boots for you, I didn’t offer to be your slave or for you to spank me. Piss off!�

“Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t understand all the stuff you’ve been getting in to. It’s…weird.�

“Weird? Have you ever seen me as happy and well adjusted as I have been in the past year? No? Well then, I guess I’m just weird.�

“Do my boots really look shitty?� Ahhh, appealing to his fashion sense is the way to his heart.

“Yes, you look like a perfectly disheveled crack addict, not the dashing punk you’re trying to look like.� I smirked at him. “Let me get myboot kit and work on them real quick. You like how shiny MY boots look, right?�

He glanced down at my feet. “You can make mine look like yours?�

“Well, yours won’t grow a high heel, but yes, I can make them look shiny and pretty.�

“Ok. But no kinky stuff�

“Oh, shut up and sit down and pour yourself some wine.” I hustled over to the cabinet and got out my boot kit. Crap, why did I push him so hard? I mean, yeah, I’ve had a crush on him forever – he’s had a crush on me forever too, but… I swung by the kitchen to fill up a little bowl of water to go with the saddle soap.

He was sitting on the couch and was fidgeting with the cork screw. I hiked up me skirt as I knelt down on the rug at his feet.

“What are you doing?� He asked, dropping the cork screw and backing up as far as the back of the couch would allow.

“I’m pulling up my skirt so it doesn’t get dirty – would you prefer that I take it off?� I asked wickedly, with a grin.
“N-n-no.â€? he replied.

“Good. Because I wasn’t intending on doing this nude.� He smiled back.

I picked up his boot. Well, I tried to pick it up. “Look, relax – I’m going to black your boots, not cut your foot off.�

“Sorry.� He let me pick up his boot this time. I pulled his foot towards me and settled it on my thigh as I knelt. “Hmmm….�

“Hmm, What?�

“I was thinking ‘hmmm… what a mess’….�

“Oh.â€?

“Yeah. Oh.� I picked up the lighter.

“What’s that for?� He started pulling away.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake! Sit still, drink your Shiraz and be quiet. Obviously you’re not interested in what I’m doing or your boots wouldn’t look like this.â€?

I looked over his boots and ah-ha! A loose thread. I lit that Zippo and melted it off. “Oh!� He exclaimed.

“Yeah. Oh.� He grinned down sheepishly.

I checked out his other boot and burned off another 2 threads.

Back to the first boot… I opened my tin of saddle soap. “Want to smell?, I asked as I lifted the tin to his face.

“Mmmm, nice. Much nicer that I thought it would be.â€?

I picked up my little brush, dipped it in that little bowl of water and lathered up the saddle soap. I spread it over his right boot, working it into all the crevices around the sole, the harness and up the shaft. I put down the brush and started rubbing the lather in with my moist hands. I looked up surreptitiously thru my bangs to see the expression on his face. Bingo! A lovely cross between ecstasy and bewilderment. What have we here? I laughed to myself – a Boot Top in the making?

There’s a lot more, complete with flaming boot polish.