BootGoddess88
08-18-2010, 9:16 AM
“The Jumping Challenge 2010” – FFF/f, riding boots, racism, White/asian (filipina), cruelty, verbal humiliation, unfairness, non-cons, no-sex, snuff
By BootGoddess88 - bootgoddess88@gmail.com
Summary: In a country where the ‘white power’ party is now firmly in power, a filipina mother of two is tortured and snuffed under the riding boots of 3 blonde military women. This story is based on the classic ‘The Jumping Challenge’ story released a good 10 years ago by author unknown. The original was F/m and didn’t include any racism, but I did find the setting worthy of a rewrite. And yes, I did paraphrase quite a bit. If you like stories such as “South Africa 2001”, or “The misfortune to be born poor”, then you will like this story.
Interested in this sort of story? I’m happy to discuss and come up with new scenarios with you, or if you are married to one of these subhuman races, how to treat your house gook. Even better if you are one yourself, I’d love to help you understand your place in life. Contact me at bootgoddess88@gmail.com.
Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring racism, cruelty and violence check the story code before reading the text. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.
I left the office and headed to the stables to see what sort of scum the patrol had picked up during the day. I felt a warmth in my crotch when the head guard, Nicole, gave me the description: a little over 35 years hold, it was apparently a filipina mum of two who had been brutally separated from her children earlier in the day. The particularly enthusiastic troopers had also shot dead her husband right in front of her. I had a rubbish week so far so my first thought was how I’d enjoy taking it out on her. Things were certainly looking up.
In fact, it looked like the fun had already started. Naked and shivering in the early British spring, she was circling around the lunge ring, hands tied in her back and led by one of the new stable hands, Brooke. Grotesque red and black marks from ruined eyeliner streaked down her face were the tears had run earlier. She looked groomed enough to have been middle class, so the humiliation to be paraded around naked must have been severe. Yes, this was going to be fun.
Not saying a word, me and Nicole watched her go round and round several times. She would glance in our direction from time to time, then wisely bring her gaze down. What a sight we must have been to her. Two tall blonde white women in full National Party regalia, our black government BDUs pressed perfectly and our trousers neatly tucked in our spotless riding boots. We comfortably looked down on her from the stalls, staring down at her, taking in her fear and humiliation. We were making her run in circles for no reason than bringing her discomfort. At that point, it probably dawned on her she was in real trouble. This is when I noticed she had begun to slow a little, and was stumbling from time to time.
“HALT!” I barked, ordering the filipina to remain where she was.
She stood there, head bowed and panting. She must have been 5”4 or so, and she was decent looking for a gook that age, even though the stretch marks on her belly betrayed she had already bred 2 little parasites on our society.
This was one of our favorite games at the military stables, grabbing a few immigrants of the streets and harassing them for our pleasure. Turns out that some of the scum was more resilient than expected and somehow were still hanging onto their old lives. Refusing to leave their house even though the 2009 relocation act had passed more than 3 months ago. We had a deal with the local patrol where they would drop some of the culprits at our camp after busting a few houses, rather than sending them straight to the camps. We’d had a few males in the past, but the real thrill came from ‘doing’ the females. They usually had kids (what sort of immigrant scum doesn’t anyway) and so messing with their heads came easy. I loved to make them squirm, giving them hope, then breaking them.
"Lunge her" I said.
The staff had roughly assembled a stirrup and some straps to make a bridle of some sorts. Brooke, the tall Arian stable hand, roughly grabbed the gook by the hair and pushed the filthy makeshift bit into her mouth, then tied the straps to her head. The filipina mum winced as she bit on the stirrup where someone’s boot sole had just been a few days ago.
"And don't spare the whip!" I added enthusiastically.
"Certainly" Brooke grinned, a glint of excitement in her deep blue eyes as she ran the hard leather of the lunging whip through her hands.
Just like most of the new girls at the military stables, I thought. So eager to inflict suffering.
Brooke walked back to the centre of the ring and held the other end of the lunge line until it was taut, some twenty-five feet away. She picked up the lunge whip, and with practiced ease the leather tip snaked out towards the filipina mum, making a sharp 'snap’ as it cracked just inches from her backside.
"Move it, you arsehole" she commanded.
The gook clumsily sprang into life and proceeded to run in a circle around Brooke. It was awkward to watch, her breast bouncing at each step, her facial features deformed by the metal and leather apparatus.
Brooke cracked the whip again, this time the tip tearing into the back of the filipina’s left tight.
"Faster," she yelled and the whip hit naked flesh once again.
"Faster! Faster!"
Sweeept! Craack! Sweeept! Craack!
The whip stung viciously as it was skillfully aimed at very nearly the same area each time. The young mum began to skip on one leg, in agony as each blow landed. She was trying to run faster but it was in vain, as she was already running as fast as she could.
"Useless!" Brooke shouted, and began to concentrate her whip on the small of her back.
I watched for a few more minutes as the wretch ran for all she was worth. Eventually, she began to stumble and finally she fell flat on the dust floor of the ring, totally exhausted. Brooke walked over to her and kicked her in her ribs with the toe of her riding boot.
"Lazy cow" she commented, looking down at the writhing creature at her feet. She sniggered, and kicked her again.
It was time for us to join the fun. As we crossed the ring, I stepped into some manure left by one of the horses a bit earlier. I cursed while gesticulating to Brooke to remove the harness and hand restraints from our new plaything. I took a few seconds to reel in the moment, standing regally only few feet away from the kneeling mum. Her face was a mask of humiliation mixed with fear.
"Gook! Lie on your back!” I shouted, pointing with my crop at the dust. She obeyed instantly! I think she knew what would happen if she refused, and the gallows she saw on her way in the camp had told her the only story she needed to know.
She lay down and awkwardly looked upwards, arms by her side. I leaned forward, lifted my right boot and held it above her face.
"What do you see, gook?" I enquired. Nicole and Brooke giggled and sneered at her predicament.
"I… I, err...” she stammered.
I lowered my boot so that the sole hovered just above the tip of her flat, ugly gook nose. I could see the look of disgust in her eyes as the smell filled her nostrils.
"Well" I said, "what have you got to say for yourself? Surely as a filipina you feel compelled to clean this mess? Aren’t you all born maids or something? "
She closed her eyes and moved her head sideways slightly. I could tell my words were hurting her. Good.
I lowered the sole onto her nose and then began to press down firmly. I twisted my boot sharply, as if crushing a bug. As she yelped in pain I then dragged the sole down, across the side of her mouth and leaving a trail of fresh manure on her face. “Lipstick for filipinas.” I commented to more laughter from the girls.
Brooke and Nicole took a step forward; all three of us towering above her gave no chance of escape. Nicole actually had one boot on her hair, pinning her head down. “You’ve been asked a question!” she barked.
The filipina stayed silent, like a rabbit caught in our headlights.
I took a drag of my cigarette and rested my boot on her chest for a moment, the heel digging into her small, exposed breast. “So? Cat’s got your tongue or something?” I placed the very tip of my dirtied boot onto her lips and I pressed down firmly onto her lower lip, causing her mouth to open.
“Tongue out!”
She hesitated, looking confused.
“Your Superior said TONGUE OUT!” yelled Nicole in frustration, delivery a mighty kick with the toe of her riding boot strait into the filipina’s temple. The blow was so hard it made her black out for a second or two. Her ears were ringing. She never had been hit before. She instinctively raised her arm to hold her face, but Nicole used her boot to push that hand away.
In searing pain, she tentatively pulled her tongue out. I firmly pressed the sole of my boot onto it and then ran it downwards, covering it with a smear of horseshit.
"Swallow!" I commanded. I looked up and winked at Nicole and Brooke. Both were adorning arrogant smiles.
The little flip swallowed the shit. I smiled at her discomfort and took another breath from my cigarette.
“Did you enjoy the taste, slant-eye?" I enquired.
"No... Mam’...”
We all laughed at how she instinctively had called me ‘Mam’. Obedience came quickly in filipinas.
"Brown-skinned manure eating manure. How appropriate." I held my boot above her face momentarily and enjoyed the look of revulsion on her face.
I tapped the tip of my cigarette so that the ash floated down onto her head, and into her long black hair she once took such good care of. I drew in another breath from my cigarette and, as I blew the smoke down towards her, I thrust my boot downwards onto her face and pressed hard. She let out a series of stifled cries as I twisted my boot savagely, cutting into her lips, and then pressed down again for a moment, before finally releasing the pressure and taking it off her face.
She choked a few times as we stared down at the shit-splattered features of the pathetic creature.
"Finish the job you were born to do, gook, and maybe you’ll get a chance to see your kids again" I said, and once again rested the boot onto her mouth. Pulling that good old ‘kids’ string. It always worked.
Gagging, fighting her revulsion, her tongue went to work cleaning the bottom of my boot. It was an extremely difficult task for her as I let the natural weight of my leg just rest on her face. I certainly wasn’t going to make easy for a gook. Me and Nicole were sort of competing as to who could find the cruelest punishments. Certainly I didn’t want to appear to be ‘too soft’ on the lower races, no matter how many tears they cried, no matter how much they pleaded.
She twisted her face beneath my boot to reach the area between the sole and the heel where most of the shit was wedged. She had to use her teeth to clean that part, chunks falling down her throat. I loved dehumanizing those brown skinned whores. There was something almost sexual as the three of us, tall, white blonde women in full riding gear stood above that meek, naked filipina and dished out cruelty. I know the other girls felt that way, too. Hot flushes ran down my spine thinking how insignificant and broken she must have felt at that moment, lying at our feet and licking the leather sole of my riding boots.
I paid little attention to her and only removed my boot for a moment to crush out my cigarette on her chest. It was not completely put out, a small ember still glowing causing her to wriggle at the constant burning sensation, leaving a red mark near left nipple. All three of us laughed at her pain. Nicole spat on her face. As the slimy phlegm ran down her nose and into her eye, the filipina burst into tears. Long, hard sobs of despair.
Looking at Attila, Brooke’s horse tied at the side of the ring, gave me an idea. I asked Brooke how far she could clear from a standstill. Apparently she could make three meters. I removed my boot from the crying, horseshit-covered face beneath and instructed ‘it’ to follow me on her hands and knees like the good little subservient flip she was.
After taking a few steps I turned to face the groveling, sobbing woman.
"I did not give you permission to stop licking my boots."
*sob* "Yes… "*sob* "Mam…" she stammered.
As I walked, almost every step resulted in the back of my heel crashing into her jaw as her tongue attempted to make contact. Her irregular, irritating grunts as the hard leather slammed into her mouth annoyed me, making me eager to see her suffer more.
I measured the three meters from a line which I drew in the dust with the tip of my boot. “Brooke I hope you can jump this or else you’re going to have to clean up some filipina off Attila’s hooves tonight”, I commented, then instructed ‘mummy’ to lie parallel with the fence at the mark I'd set.
"Please, no, no please..." she begged, fearing for her life. I exploded. I raised my riding crop and proceeded to lay into her naked flesh. The whip made loud cracking sounds as it bit into her.
"You will obey Whites instantly and without question" I yelled. I grabbed hold of the back of her hair and slashed the crop down hard onto her back and sides, a fast, savage series of blows.
Instinctively, she reached out with her arms in an attempt to shield herself.
"How dare you!" I screamed. I was incensed!
"Put your face down in the dirt." I commanded.
Whimpering, she did so, and I placed my right boot onto the back of her neck and forced it downwards, pushing her mouth into the filthy dust.
"Keep your face in the horse’s piss, where it belongs".
I further instructed her to keep her backside in the air and stretch her arms out to their full extent along the ground.
"I will now teach you to accept proper punishment from your White superiors."
"Brooke" I said, "I want you to hold her steady by placing your boot just… here."
Precisely as I finished my address to Brooke, I stamped my heel down hard onto the back of her right hand. The gook squealed in agony, and the girls laughed. Brooke placed a boot onto that hand and kept it pinned with all her weight on that foot.
The filipina continued to cry in pain and anguish for she feared what was coming immediately after. She was right.
Walking around her, I stamped down hard with my heel onto her left hand and then told Nicole to keep it held there beneath her full weight. I then went to stand in front of her.
"Go for it, Brooke" I said matter-of-factly. "Use your switch to cut into her more."
Brooke stood behind her backside and raised her switch, awaiting my final command. I placed my right boot onto the back of her head and pressed down onto the now sobbing wreck at my feet.
I lit myself another cigarette and breathed in the relaxing scent. As I blew out a stream of smoke I nodded, and the first slash of the long, slim riding switch came whistling through the air. A sharp cracking sound as it made contact with the soft flesh of her backside was followed by a bellow of agony from the'filth beneath my boot.
Brooke raised the switch high and brought it sharply down a second time, striking just inches from where the first one had struck.
She squealed again, and the switch was raised for the third stroke.
I indicated for Brooke to hold back for a moment. I wanted to see the welts that formed on her backside, a fine pair of raised lines just a few inches apart.
I took another breath of my cigarette, and nodded for her to continue.
Sweeept! Craack!
The first, straight between the other two. The gook mum yelled and jerked in pain beneath my boot.
"More!" I encouraged. Brooke smiled, and proceeded to slash her whip several more times in quick succession, and with deadly accuracy.
By the end of the whipping, the slant-eye bitch was crying in agony, pinned down though she was. I walked behind her and studied the welts across her backside.
I took a final breath from my cigarette and placed the stub onto this most tender area, trapping it beneath my right boot. Ever so slowly, I extinguished it. She jerked and squealed in pain.
Brooke removed her boot from the gook’s hand and placed the toe of her riding boots just under her chin. She lifted it as to look into her face. How powerful and terrifying she must have looked from that low vantage point. The ring was silent expect for the quiet weeping at our feet.
"I’m going to teach you some English, slant-eye" Brooke said with the cold, harsh voice of a headmistress. “Repeat after me: I am human refuse.”
“I… I am… human refuse… “.
I was enjoying this, my boot still pressed on her lower back.
Brooke added: “Gooks are parasites”. She spelled it out “Pa… ra… si… tes…”, even though it was clearly not necessary. The gook spoke perfect English.
In a small, sobering voice, the once proud mum repeated: “Gook … are” *sob* *sniff* ”… parasites…”.
Drunk on power, Brooke continued: “My children are human turds. I’m sorry I shat them”.
There was a moment of hesitation, so Nicole twisted the boot heel that was still resting on the fragile hand.
“Ouch!” “... My … my children are… human turds!” *sob* “I’m sorry I … shat … them!”
All three of us jeered on that one. Brooke removed her boot from under the gook’s chin only to be replaced by Nicole’s who slammed hers hard against her face, as if to make a point.
“Stupid fucking good, even your dead husband was worth less than this fucking boot. Human garbage, you only live because we give you permission to!”
Tears welled up in the filipina’s already swollen eyes at the cruel words.
“Kiss my boots like you would kiss your kids, gook. Show us!”.
With mocking smiles we looked down on the sad spectacle at our feet. Sobbing and whimpering from the humiliation, the young mum kissed Nicole’s boots with tender love. It was pathetic.
“How can this race of monkeys have ever walked the same streets as us, I’ll never understand”, sighed Brooke.
"Me too!”, I concurred. “Let's see if she’s learned anything.”
“On your back and open your legs wide!”. I ordered. “Brooke, hand me your switch."
Once flipped on her back, she opened her legs wide and stared at me, transfixed with fear, again knowing what was to come. I looked down at her exposed cunt in disgust and prodded the hairy mess a few times with the filthy tip of my boot. She winced.
"Gook," I announced, "when a White person want to beat you or whip you, you will lie down and take it, even if it’s a 8 year old child who’s punishing you."
Her head bowed so much it was almost tucked in her breast, the filipina managed to mumble a feeble "Yes .. Mam, I’m sor…”
Before she had time to finish her sentence, I raised the switch and brought it down sharply between her legs, the tip biting viciously into her tender parts. She squealed in absolute agony and I slashed the switch down twice more before she rolled over with her legs tightly clamped together.
Our raucous laughter rang rung in her ears.
Brooke and Nicole sniggered and prodded her with their boots. Once again the asian cunt burst into tears.
Her whining got to us. At this point we were getting tired of these little humiliation games, keen on dishing out as much pain and suffering as possible on the weak shape lying in the dust. Releasing our anger on inferior races was our Arian birthright. Brooke was the first one to kick the crying mum, a toe kick in the left nipple, which must have been incredibly painful considering at how the filipina was folded in half, holding her breast with both hands.
Nicole now had full view on her unprotected back, and delivered a few quick sharp kicks straight in her spine. The filipina tears were quickly replaced by screams. It was my turn! I raised my boot, and struck heel first into her thigh and knees, savagely dealing blows as hard as I could. I wanted to break the cheap little brown thing under my expensive, perfectly polished boots.
We all went at it together. Boot heels to the face, to the stomach, to the back. Big kicks in the cunt, trying to plunge our boot toes inside her. Vicious stomps on her face, chipping her teeth and cutting into her lips. Trampling her hands, her feet. Twisting our soles on her skin while she yelped in pain and begged us. Insults rained as fast and furiously as the blows.
“Take that, gook cunt!”
”Not so proud now, are you, yellow turd?”
“Beg for your life, little flip!”
But nothing would appease our savage anger. ”Please Mam, please I’m beg..” She didn’t even have time to finish her words, so relentless was the assault.
We were merciless. “I want the bitch’s kids to see her body black and blue before they burn her at the camp” yelled Brooke. And we kept going at it. The Filipina was now bleeding from the mouth and nose. By now she wasn’t even trying to cover her body. She was like roadkill. The kicks slowed down as we tired. Finally, we stopped.
Brooke nudged the result of our handywork with the tip of her boot. No reaction except for a slow moan. She was truly broken, lying on her back, her body bruising as we watched.
“Time to try that jump, Brooke, looks like she won’t be escaping very far now.” Then, looking down at the bleeding mum at my feet. “You’re probably right, gook, that horse probably cannot clear that jump. You’re going to be crushed today”, I said with contempt.
It wasn’t enough for Nicole though, who was always eager to dehumanize our victims further. She trusted her boot sole in the bleeding face. “Lick our boots before you die, gook. I want horseshit and boot soles to be the last things you ever taste”.
Soon the moaning filipina had had three very dirty riding boots eagerly crushed into her bleeding face, all waiting to be cleaned. Though nauseated, she managed to struggle through all three, gagging as she weakly lapped at the soles. A few minutes later, she found the other three raised for her to lick clean. While she humiliated herself hoping for compassion, we mocked her and described how we’d get rid of her body in the trash when we’d be done with her.
“Right, time to die, gook”. Brooke laughed and went to mount her horse. I left to sit down with Nicole on the stalls, resting one boot nonchalantly on the chair in front of me. Brooke practiced smaller jumps a few times on the other side of the ring. “Do it!” I commanded.
The gook was petrified; she knew the distance was far too long. She was trying to escape… but having beaten to a pulp, all she could muster was a slow crawl, her bleeding breast dragging along the dust, leaving a pitiful trail. She mumbled incoherent words through her broken teeth. I commented she looked a bit like a slug, and Nicole and I laughed an exaggerated, cruel laugh. We felt like Queens at the roman arena.
Brooke turned to face the line and then, with savage kicks of her sharp spurs, the horse thundered forwards. More vicious kicks and the horse immediately leaped.
It was a good jump. Brooke had paced it superbly, the last stride perfect, no short step or stumble to hinder the horse’s powerful jump. We squealed with delight as we watched the horse come to heavily land - on the Filipina of course, front hooves landing squarely on her breast and belly, followed by the second set. Her chest was crushed.
"I knew you wouldn't make it", joked Nicole. Brooke looked behind at the bleeding asian mother gasping her last few breaths and smirked.
“Well, that’s it for that one”, I said, standing up. I twisted my heels and headed back to the office. “Have it disposed of in the dumpster, with the rest of the stable trash”, I instructed Brooke before leaving the ring. “Oh and don’t forget to have these hooves washed”.
I just couldn’t wait to whisper what had just happened in the ears of my husband that night. He’s a captain at the nearby camp where we sent her kids, I know he’ll get off on it while we have sex... It’s going to be great!
The End.
By BootGoddess88 - bootgoddess88@gmail.com
Summary: In a country where the ‘white power’ party is now firmly in power, a filipina mother of two is tortured and snuffed under the riding boots of 3 blonde military women. This story is based on the classic ‘The Jumping Challenge’ story released a good 10 years ago by author unknown. The original was F/m and didn’t include any racism, but I did find the setting worthy of a rewrite. And yes, I did paraphrase quite a bit. If you like stories such as “South Africa 2001”, or “The misfortune to be born poor”, then you will like this story.
Interested in this sort of story? I’m happy to discuss and come up with new scenarios with you, or if you are married to one of these subhuman races, how to treat your house gook. Even better if you are one yourself, I’d love to help you understand your place in life. Contact me at bootgoddess88@gmail.com.
Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring racism, cruelty and violence check the story code before reading the text. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.
I left the office and headed to the stables to see what sort of scum the patrol had picked up during the day. I felt a warmth in my crotch when the head guard, Nicole, gave me the description: a little over 35 years hold, it was apparently a filipina mum of two who had been brutally separated from her children earlier in the day. The particularly enthusiastic troopers had also shot dead her husband right in front of her. I had a rubbish week so far so my first thought was how I’d enjoy taking it out on her. Things were certainly looking up.
In fact, it looked like the fun had already started. Naked and shivering in the early British spring, she was circling around the lunge ring, hands tied in her back and led by one of the new stable hands, Brooke. Grotesque red and black marks from ruined eyeliner streaked down her face were the tears had run earlier. She looked groomed enough to have been middle class, so the humiliation to be paraded around naked must have been severe. Yes, this was going to be fun.
Not saying a word, me and Nicole watched her go round and round several times. She would glance in our direction from time to time, then wisely bring her gaze down. What a sight we must have been to her. Two tall blonde white women in full National Party regalia, our black government BDUs pressed perfectly and our trousers neatly tucked in our spotless riding boots. We comfortably looked down on her from the stalls, staring down at her, taking in her fear and humiliation. We were making her run in circles for no reason than bringing her discomfort. At that point, it probably dawned on her she was in real trouble. This is when I noticed she had begun to slow a little, and was stumbling from time to time.
“HALT!” I barked, ordering the filipina to remain where she was.
She stood there, head bowed and panting. She must have been 5”4 or so, and she was decent looking for a gook that age, even though the stretch marks on her belly betrayed she had already bred 2 little parasites on our society.
This was one of our favorite games at the military stables, grabbing a few immigrants of the streets and harassing them for our pleasure. Turns out that some of the scum was more resilient than expected and somehow were still hanging onto their old lives. Refusing to leave their house even though the 2009 relocation act had passed more than 3 months ago. We had a deal with the local patrol where they would drop some of the culprits at our camp after busting a few houses, rather than sending them straight to the camps. We’d had a few males in the past, but the real thrill came from ‘doing’ the females. They usually had kids (what sort of immigrant scum doesn’t anyway) and so messing with their heads came easy. I loved to make them squirm, giving them hope, then breaking them.
"Lunge her" I said.
The staff had roughly assembled a stirrup and some straps to make a bridle of some sorts. Brooke, the tall Arian stable hand, roughly grabbed the gook by the hair and pushed the filthy makeshift bit into her mouth, then tied the straps to her head. The filipina mum winced as she bit on the stirrup where someone’s boot sole had just been a few days ago.
"And don't spare the whip!" I added enthusiastically.
"Certainly" Brooke grinned, a glint of excitement in her deep blue eyes as she ran the hard leather of the lunging whip through her hands.
Just like most of the new girls at the military stables, I thought. So eager to inflict suffering.
Brooke walked back to the centre of the ring and held the other end of the lunge line until it was taut, some twenty-five feet away. She picked up the lunge whip, and with practiced ease the leather tip snaked out towards the filipina mum, making a sharp 'snap’ as it cracked just inches from her backside.
"Move it, you arsehole" she commanded.
The gook clumsily sprang into life and proceeded to run in a circle around Brooke. It was awkward to watch, her breast bouncing at each step, her facial features deformed by the metal and leather apparatus.
Brooke cracked the whip again, this time the tip tearing into the back of the filipina’s left tight.
"Faster," she yelled and the whip hit naked flesh once again.
"Faster! Faster!"
Sweeept! Craack! Sweeept! Craack!
The whip stung viciously as it was skillfully aimed at very nearly the same area each time. The young mum began to skip on one leg, in agony as each blow landed. She was trying to run faster but it was in vain, as she was already running as fast as she could.
"Useless!" Brooke shouted, and began to concentrate her whip on the small of her back.
I watched for a few more minutes as the wretch ran for all she was worth. Eventually, she began to stumble and finally she fell flat on the dust floor of the ring, totally exhausted. Brooke walked over to her and kicked her in her ribs with the toe of her riding boot.
"Lazy cow" she commented, looking down at the writhing creature at her feet. She sniggered, and kicked her again.
It was time for us to join the fun. As we crossed the ring, I stepped into some manure left by one of the horses a bit earlier. I cursed while gesticulating to Brooke to remove the harness and hand restraints from our new plaything. I took a few seconds to reel in the moment, standing regally only few feet away from the kneeling mum. Her face was a mask of humiliation mixed with fear.
"Gook! Lie on your back!” I shouted, pointing with my crop at the dust. She obeyed instantly! I think she knew what would happen if she refused, and the gallows she saw on her way in the camp had told her the only story she needed to know.
She lay down and awkwardly looked upwards, arms by her side. I leaned forward, lifted my right boot and held it above her face.
"What do you see, gook?" I enquired. Nicole and Brooke giggled and sneered at her predicament.
"I… I, err...” she stammered.
I lowered my boot so that the sole hovered just above the tip of her flat, ugly gook nose. I could see the look of disgust in her eyes as the smell filled her nostrils.
"Well" I said, "what have you got to say for yourself? Surely as a filipina you feel compelled to clean this mess? Aren’t you all born maids or something? "
She closed her eyes and moved her head sideways slightly. I could tell my words were hurting her. Good.
I lowered the sole onto her nose and then began to press down firmly. I twisted my boot sharply, as if crushing a bug. As she yelped in pain I then dragged the sole down, across the side of her mouth and leaving a trail of fresh manure on her face. “Lipstick for filipinas.” I commented to more laughter from the girls.
Brooke and Nicole took a step forward; all three of us towering above her gave no chance of escape. Nicole actually had one boot on her hair, pinning her head down. “You’ve been asked a question!” she barked.
The filipina stayed silent, like a rabbit caught in our headlights.
I took a drag of my cigarette and rested my boot on her chest for a moment, the heel digging into her small, exposed breast. “So? Cat’s got your tongue or something?” I placed the very tip of my dirtied boot onto her lips and I pressed down firmly onto her lower lip, causing her mouth to open.
“Tongue out!”
She hesitated, looking confused.
“Your Superior said TONGUE OUT!” yelled Nicole in frustration, delivery a mighty kick with the toe of her riding boot strait into the filipina’s temple. The blow was so hard it made her black out for a second or two. Her ears were ringing. She never had been hit before. She instinctively raised her arm to hold her face, but Nicole used her boot to push that hand away.
In searing pain, she tentatively pulled her tongue out. I firmly pressed the sole of my boot onto it and then ran it downwards, covering it with a smear of horseshit.
"Swallow!" I commanded. I looked up and winked at Nicole and Brooke. Both were adorning arrogant smiles.
The little flip swallowed the shit. I smiled at her discomfort and took another breath from my cigarette.
“Did you enjoy the taste, slant-eye?" I enquired.
"No... Mam’...”
We all laughed at how she instinctively had called me ‘Mam’. Obedience came quickly in filipinas.
"Brown-skinned manure eating manure. How appropriate." I held my boot above her face momentarily and enjoyed the look of revulsion on her face.
I tapped the tip of my cigarette so that the ash floated down onto her head, and into her long black hair she once took such good care of. I drew in another breath from my cigarette and, as I blew the smoke down towards her, I thrust my boot downwards onto her face and pressed hard. She let out a series of stifled cries as I twisted my boot savagely, cutting into her lips, and then pressed down again for a moment, before finally releasing the pressure and taking it off her face.
She choked a few times as we stared down at the shit-splattered features of the pathetic creature.
"Finish the job you were born to do, gook, and maybe you’ll get a chance to see your kids again" I said, and once again rested the boot onto her mouth. Pulling that good old ‘kids’ string. It always worked.
Gagging, fighting her revulsion, her tongue went to work cleaning the bottom of my boot. It was an extremely difficult task for her as I let the natural weight of my leg just rest on her face. I certainly wasn’t going to make easy for a gook. Me and Nicole were sort of competing as to who could find the cruelest punishments. Certainly I didn’t want to appear to be ‘too soft’ on the lower races, no matter how many tears they cried, no matter how much they pleaded.
She twisted her face beneath my boot to reach the area between the sole and the heel where most of the shit was wedged. She had to use her teeth to clean that part, chunks falling down her throat. I loved dehumanizing those brown skinned whores. There was something almost sexual as the three of us, tall, white blonde women in full riding gear stood above that meek, naked filipina and dished out cruelty. I know the other girls felt that way, too. Hot flushes ran down my spine thinking how insignificant and broken she must have felt at that moment, lying at our feet and licking the leather sole of my riding boots.
I paid little attention to her and only removed my boot for a moment to crush out my cigarette on her chest. It was not completely put out, a small ember still glowing causing her to wriggle at the constant burning sensation, leaving a red mark near left nipple. All three of us laughed at her pain. Nicole spat on her face. As the slimy phlegm ran down her nose and into her eye, the filipina burst into tears. Long, hard sobs of despair.
Looking at Attila, Brooke’s horse tied at the side of the ring, gave me an idea. I asked Brooke how far she could clear from a standstill. Apparently she could make three meters. I removed my boot from the crying, horseshit-covered face beneath and instructed ‘it’ to follow me on her hands and knees like the good little subservient flip she was.
After taking a few steps I turned to face the groveling, sobbing woman.
"I did not give you permission to stop licking my boots."
*sob* "Yes… "*sob* "Mam…" she stammered.
As I walked, almost every step resulted in the back of my heel crashing into her jaw as her tongue attempted to make contact. Her irregular, irritating grunts as the hard leather slammed into her mouth annoyed me, making me eager to see her suffer more.
I measured the three meters from a line which I drew in the dust with the tip of my boot. “Brooke I hope you can jump this or else you’re going to have to clean up some filipina off Attila’s hooves tonight”, I commented, then instructed ‘mummy’ to lie parallel with the fence at the mark I'd set.
"Please, no, no please..." she begged, fearing for her life. I exploded. I raised my riding crop and proceeded to lay into her naked flesh. The whip made loud cracking sounds as it bit into her.
"You will obey Whites instantly and without question" I yelled. I grabbed hold of the back of her hair and slashed the crop down hard onto her back and sides, a fast, savage series of blows.
Instinctively, she reached out with her arms in an attempt to shield herself.
"How dare you!" I screamed. I was incensed!
"Put your face down in the dirt." I commanded.
Whimpering, she did so, and I placed my right boot onto the back of her neck and forced it downwards, pushing her mouth into the filthy dust.
"Keep your face in the horse’s piss, where it belongs".
I further instructed her to keep her backside in the air and stretch her arms out to their full extent along the ground.
"I will now teach you to accept proper punishment from your White superiors."
"Brooke" I said, "I want you to hold her steady by placing your boot just… here."
Precisely as I finished my address to Brooke, I stamped my heel down hard onto the back of her right hand. The gook squealed in agony, and the girls laughed. Brooke placed a boot onto that hand and kept it pinned with all her weight on that foot.
The filipina continued to cry in pain and anguish for she feared what was coming immediately after. She was right.
Walking around her, I stamped down hard with my heel onto her left hand and then told Nicole to keep it held there beneath her full weight. I then went to stand in front of her.
"Go for it, Brooke" I said matter-of-factly. "Use your switch to cut into her more."
Brooke stood behind her backside and raised her switch, awaiting my final command. I placed my right boot onto the back of her head and pressed down onto the now sobbing wreck at my feet.
I lit myself another cigarette and breathed in the relaxing scent. As I blew out a stream of smoke I nodded, and the first slash of the long, slim riding switch came whistling through the air. A sharp cracking sound as it made contact with the soft flesh of her backside was followed by a bellow of agony from the'filth beneath my boot.
Brooke raised the switch high and brought it sharply down a second time, striking just inches from where the first one had struck.
She squealed again, and the switch was raised for the third stroke.
I indicated for Brooke to hold back for a moment. I wanted to see the welts that formed on her backside, a fine pair of raised lines just a few inches apart.
I took another breath of my cigarette, and nodded for her to continue.
Sweeept! Craack!
The first, straight between the other two. The gook mum yelled and jerked in pain beneath my boot.
"More!" I encouraged. Brooke smiled, and proceeded to slash her whip several more times in quick succession, and with deadly accuracy.
By the end of the whipping, the slant-eye bitch was crying in agony, pinned down though she was. I walked behind her and studied the welts across her backside.
I took a final breath from my cigarette and placed the stub onto this most tender area, trapping it beneath my right boot. Ever so slowly, I extinguished it. She jerked and squealed in pain.
Brooke removed her boot from the gook’s hand and placed the toe of her riding boots just under her chin. She lifted it as to look into her face. How powerful and terrifying she must have looked from that low vantage point. The ring was silent expect for the quiet weeping at our feet.
"I’m going to teach you some English, slant-eye" Brooke said with the cold, harsh voice of a headmistress. “Repeat after me: I am human refuse.”
“I… I am… human refuse… “.
I was enjoying this, my boot still pressed on her lower back.
Brooke added: “Gooks are parasites”. She spelled it out “Pa… ra… si… tes…”, even though it was clearly not necessary. The gook spoke perfect English.
In a small, sobering voice, the once proud mum repeated: “Gook … are” *sob* *sniff* ”… parasites…”.
Drunk on power, Brooke continued: “My children are human turds. I’m sorry I shat them”.
There was a moment of hesitation, so Nicole twisted the boot heel that was still resting on the fragile hand.
“Ouch!” “... My … my children are… human turds!” *sob* “I’m sorry I … shat … them!”
All three of us jeered on that one. Brooke removed her boot from under the gook’s chin only to be replaced by Nicole’s who slammed hers hard against her face, as if to make a point.
“Stupid fucking good, even your dead husband was worth less than this fucking boot. Human garbage, you only live because we give you permission to!”
Tears welled up in the filipina’s already swollen eyes at the cruel words.
“Kiss my boots like you would kiss your kids, gook. Show us!”.
With mocking smiles we looked down on the sad spectacle at our feet. Sobbing and whimpering from the humiliation, the young mum kissed Nicole’s boots with tender love. It was pathetic.
“How can this race of monkeys have ever walked the same streets as us, I’ll never understand”, sighed Brooke.
"Me too!”, I concurred. “Let's see if she’s learned anything.”
“On your back and open your legs wide!”. I ordered. “Brooke, hand me your switch."
Once flipped on her back, she opened her legs wide and stared at me, transfixed with fear, again knowing what was to come. I looked down at her exposed cunt in disgust and prodded the hairy mess a few times with the filthy tip of my boot. She winced.
"Gook," I announced, "when a White person want to beat you or whip you, you will lie down and take it, even if it’s a 8 year old child who’s punishing you."
Her head bowed so much it was almost tucked in her breast, the filipina managed to mumble a feeble "Yes .. Mam, I’m sor…”
Before she had time to finish her sentence, I raised the switch and brought it down sharply between her legs, the tip biting viciously into her tender parts. She squealed in absolute agony and I slashed the switch down twice more before she rolled over with her legs tightly clamped together.
Our raucous laughter rang rung in her ears.
Brooke and Nicole sniggered and prodded her with their boots. Once again the asian cunt burst into tears.
Her whining got to us. At this point we were getting tired of these little humiliation games, keen on dishing out as much pain and suffering as possible on the weak shape lying in the dust. Releasing our anger on inferior races was our Arian birthright. Brooke was the first one to kick the crying mum, a toe kick in the left nipple, which must have been incredibly painful considering at how the filipina was folded in half, holding her breast with both hands.
Nicole now had full view on her unprotected back, and delivered a few quick sharp kicks straight in her spine. The filipina tears were quickly replaced by screams. It was my turn! I raised my boot, and struck heel first into her thigh and knees, savagely dealing blows as hard as I could. I wanted to break the cheap little brown thing under my expensive, perfectly polished boots.
We all went at it together. Boot heels to the face, to the stomach, to the back. Big kicks in the cunt, trying to plunge our boot toes inside her. Vicious stomps on her face, chipping her teeth and cutting into her lips. Trampling her hands, her feet. Twisting our soles on her skin while she yelped in pain and begged us. Insults rained as fast and furiously as the blows.
“Take that, gook cunt!”
”Not so proud now, are you, yellow turd?”
“Beg for your life, little flip!”
But nothing would appease our savage anger. ”Please Mam, please I’m beg..” She didn’t even have time to finish her words, so relentless was the assault.
We were merciless. “I want the bitch’s kids to see her body black and blue before they burn her at the camp” yelled Brooke. And we kept going at it. The Filipina was now bleeding from the mouth and nose. By now she wasn’t even trying to cover her body. She was like roadkill. The kicks slowed down as we tired. Finally, we stopped.
Brooke nudged the result of our handywork with the tip of her boot. No reaction except for a slow moan. She was truly broken, lying on her back, her body bruising as we watched.
“Time to try that jump, Brooke, looks like she won’t be escaping very far now.” Then, looking down at the bleeding mum at my feet. “You’re probably right, gook, that horse probably cannot clear that jump. You’re going to be crushed today”, I said with contempt.
It wasn’t enough for Nicole though, who was always eager to dehumanize our victims further. She trusted her boot sole in the bleeding face. “Lick our boots before you die, gook. I want horseshit and boot soles to be the last things you ever taste”.
Soon the moaning filipina had had three very dirty riding boots eagerly crushed into her bleeding face, all waiting to be cleaned. Though nauseated, she managed to struggle through all three, gagging as she weakly lapped at the soles. A few minutes later, she found the other three raised for her to lick clean. While she humiliated herself hoping for compassion, we mocked her and described how we’d get rid of her body in the trash when we’d be done with her.
“Right, time to die, gook”. Brooke laughed and went to mount her horse. I left to sit down with Nicole on the stalls, resting one boot nonchalantly on the chair in front of me. Brooke practiced smaller jumps a few times on the other side of the ring. “Do it!” I commanded.
The gook was petrified; she knew the distance was far too long. She was trying to escape… but having beaten to a pulp, all she could muster was a slow crawl, her bleeding breast dragging along the dust, leaving a pitiful trail. She mumbled incoherent words through her broken teeth. I commented she looked a bit like a slug, and Nicole and I laughed an exaggerated, cruel laugh. We felt like Queens at the roman arena.
Brooke turned to face the line and then, with savage kicks of her sharp spurs, the horse thundered forwards. More vicious kicks and the horse immediately leaped.
It was a good jump. Brooke had paced it superbly, the last stride perfect, no short step or stumble to hinder the horse’s powerful jump. We squealed with delight as we watched the horse come to heavily land - on the Filipina of course, front hooves landing squarely on her breast and belly, followed by the second set. Her chest was crushed.
"I knew you wouldn't make it", joked Nicole. Brooke looked behind at the bleeding asian mother gasping her last few breaths and smirked.
“Well, that’s it for that one”, I said, standing up. I twisted my heels and headed back to the office. “Have it disposed of in the dumpster, with the rest of the stable trash”, I instructed Brooke before leaving the ring. “Oh and don’t forget to have these hooves washed”.
I just couldn’t wait to whisper what had just happened in the ears of my husband that night. He’s a captain at the nearby camp where we sent her kids, I know he’ll get off on it while we have sex... It’s going to be great!
The End.