"THE WAR ZONE" (By a BOOTLUST Member)

The first time he had access to such a uniform came as he took cover in a ditch as a German staff car approached. The grenade Rick pitched took out the car and left him a choice of 2 possible uniforms. The driver was KAPUT and what was left of his uniform would have been way too small for Rick anyhow. But the officer in back was another story. He was stunned but very much alive. A tall muscular fellow, he wore the black uniform of an SS captain, complete with leather lined black breeches and spit shined high leather riding boots. Using hand gestures, Rick ordered the SS officerout of the car. The big German was reluctant, even arrogant in his attitude toward the black soldier. He reminded Rick of the reform school guards (also in black uniforms) who had pushed him around for years. Those shined boots were something new to Rick. No reform school guard ever wore anything so fine. They seemed to somehow convey the SS officer's attitude of power and superiority. He could not be allowed to keep them.

Rick relieved the officer of his side arm, yanked him out of the car and then fired a few rounds from the officer's own Lugar at the man's feet to get his attention. Then Rick shoved the officer to the ground and grabbed the nazi's boots by the heels,. Rick planted his own big muddy GI boot against the officer's crotch for leverage. He applied as much pressure as he needed to pull the tall boots off his captive, plus a little extra to squeeze the nazi's balls enough to show him who was now the boss. Rick ordered to the SS officer to strip, and with some reluctance the German began unbuttoning his black tunic.

Rick examined the German's empty boots and estimated they were nearly as large as his own size 13's. He found himself admiring the gleam on the tall leather shafts, and he was surprised to find that, as he did so, his cock was getting uncomfortably hard, pressing out against the buttons of the fly of his GI fatigue pants. Rick was well built in the cock department and it was always a problem when he was hard because there was not enough room in the pants for comfort. Rick made the decision he'd like to see what it felt like to wear those fancy boots, but first he would get that uniform off the SS officer who was still not cooperating. He set upon the officer, knocking his cap off. The now bareheaded German was pushed to his knees before Rick, his curly blond hair catching the afternoon sun. Rick looked down at the man's golden locks, thinking, "Funkin' master race, eh?! We'll see!"

Rick flew into a frenzy. He tore the black SS uniform off the nazi officer, leaving the bewildered blond laying at Rick's feet, totally stripped now, except for his very unmilitary looking sagging, dirty gray boot socks.

It seemed there was no stopping Rick. He was going to have his revenge on this self-proclaimed White Super Man. Once naked, the nazi became far more passive. Rick dragged him over to a downed tree, bent his body over the rotting trunk and tied him down to it. Rick pulled off his own GI belt and began to whip the nazi's tight white ass with it. After just a few good smacks, the SS man started to moan. Rick left him and walked over his prisoner's uniform where it lay crumpled on the ground. It took only a minute for him to strip himself out of his own OD fatigues and put on the SS uniform. It fitted him quite well but not as well as it had fit the German. The black tunic was too snug across his chest, and the officer's riding breeches were skin tight around the big American's lower legs.

Finally Rick turned his attention back to those tall splendid officer's boots. He tugged and pulled and finally with a struggle he got them on. They felt a size too small, but Rick figured they would stretch. If they didn't and getting them off became a problem, Rick figured he could always cut them off. His prisoner was watching all this with a mixture of anger and disgust. When he saw Rick forcing his feet into his boots he started to complain. Rick deduced that he was getting cussed out in German.

In response, Rick united the blond, and grabbed him by his ankles, pulling off one of the man's boot socks in the process. He dragged the naked nazi over to the same muddy ditch that Rick had hidden in earlier. The big German tried to break loose and get to his feet but Rick was on him. Together they rolled into the ditch with a splash. The cool mud began engulfing their bodies as they struggled. Rick became suddenly very aware that his own stiff cock was pressing hard into the firm flesh of the helpless German's ass and he thought, "Why the fuck not? This is the ultimate revenge!" He put his lips to the German's ear and whispered, " Now I got something for you, bitch!"

Rick paused, holding the German's body tightly against his. "I don't want to be fuckin' a dead man," he thought. " I want him to know what's happening to him." With that, Rick grabbed a hand full of the SS officer's blond curls, and yanked his head up and back so he wouldn't drown. Then, Rick started fucking him. With every thrust, Rick whispered into the big blond's ear, "For you, Herr Superman!" And with every thrust those tall shiny boots Rick wore, now muddied and wet, sunk deeper and deeper into the muck. Rick could feel the long shafts filling with a steam of cool mud. He was surprised that the sensation was not unpleasant. In fact, it turned him on more! Then, just as he felt the cool water working its way in between his toes, he climaxed.

When he finally released his hold on the SS officer and rolled the man's naked body over onto its back on the stream bank, Rick was surprised how the brown water lapping against the German's blond pubes made them look almost like they had been bleached white. Extending outward from that nest of white curley pubic hair, Rick could just make out the pale shape of the officer's long, meaty, uncut cock as it floated just below the surface of the dirty water. He resisted the temptation to grab it and fish out the nazi's balls which he assumed would be floating just below it.

Rick tried to stand. He suddenly realized that the weight of all the muck that had oozed down into the boots he wore was rooting him to the spot. Even using all his strength, he could hardly lift his legs. He sat on the stream bank and tried to pull one of the tall boots off. No go. It seemed stuck like glue to his leg. Rick took out his knife and started slicing through the fine black boot leather, working his blade like a saw from the top of the shaft at his knee down to his ankle. At that, his prisoner seemed to come back to life, shouting out,"NEIN! NEIN!"

Rick laughed out loud, mostly for his prisoner's benefit. Sensing the importance the SS man seemed to attach to his boots, Rick saw yet another opportunity to humiliate and punish this big blond nazi. When Rick finished slicing open both boots, he easily stepped out of them and then threw their soggy remains at his prisoner. Using sign language he ordered the man to pull on what was left of his own ruined boots. Then Rick placed the butt of his .45 in the small of the SS man's back and, using one of the few German words he knew, "SCHNELL", he started marching his captive down the road. The blond, naked except for the ruined boots and the one soaked boot sock he still wore, was then encouraged at the butt of Rick's gun to break into the classic Nazi goose step. Rick watched with satisfaction as his captive tried to lift his straightened legs high in to the air. With each step, the shredded shafts of his officer's boots flapped in the air or dragged along the ground. The feeling that overtook Rick at that moment was to propel him through the rest of the war seeking more and more, deeper and deeper revenge. His targets would be Hitler-Poster-Boy Officers. The blonder the better. And the higher and blacker the boot leather, the better.

"SCHNELL, BITCH!"