Vintage Pulp and Original Gay Erotica
FOREWORD
“Lick my boots, schwinehunt!” the Nazi officer spat.
Robert looked up into the man’s cold eyes. His look was hard and superior. The three inch scar across his cheek gave the Nazi a piratical look.
Robert felt the riding crop bite into his bare butt once more, adding another slash mark to his already welted behind.
“Lick, American pig,” the Nazi commanded, thrusting the toe of his highly polished boot under Robert’s nose. He pressed the tip of his toe against Robert’s mouth and shoved.
“Lick,” he whispered in a seductive drawl.
Robert parted his warm lips and his tongue tentatively slipped out and contacted the hard leather of the Nazi’s boot.
it tasted sour and acrid, the high-polished boot pressed against Robert’s tongue and he tasted shame.
“Good little slave boy,” the Nazi snarled. “Lick my boots, pig.”
The riding crop whisked in the air, reminding Robert of the sting of its caress.
His tongue flattened and spread over the shiny surface of the black leather boot and he tasted the humiliation of servitude to the Nazi master.
Robert felt a queer tingling in his nuts and his cock shaft.
He was getting a hard-on!
Robert lapped at the Nazi’s boot and felt the growing erection between his legs.
The cruel Nazi grinned as he watched the American’s hardening rod.
He could spot a slave a mile away—and he had been right once again!
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