The Boot-Licking Bitch

"Now, you can begin to show your submission properly by placing a kiss on my beautiful leather boots, Panty-Sniffer,” Jess commanded, her voice cool and unwavering.

She lifted her boots from your back, letting you slowly turn to face her. Still on all fours, you looked up at her lounging on the bed, one leg crossed over the other with a casual, unbothered grace. She set her boots down firmly in front of you, arching an eyebrow as she waited. Every instinct told you this was the most humiliating thing you’d ever be asked to do, but then again, compliance would keep you out of a jail cell. Weighing your choices, you lowered your head, understanding that obedience was the only way out.

Taking a breath, you leaned down and placed a light, **** kiss on each boot, feeling the coarse leather under your lips. The faint taste of dirt and worn leather filled your mouth, but somewhere within, the act of submission sparked something almost beyond your control.

“Good. Well done, Spandex-Boy. That was a decent effort,” she said, amused. “But now, I want you to lick the soles—and don’t hold back,” she commanded. “And each time, I expect you to thank your new mistress. Now, get to it.”

With her right boot angled inches from your face, you knew there was no way to avoid what she wanted. Steeling yourself, you leaned forward, extending your tongue and dragging it along the length of her boot from heel to toe, the taste foreign and bitter. Every humiliating swipe reminded you of just how far you’d fallen.

“Thank you, Mistress,” you murmured, barely audible, as you continued to perform this degrading task, feeling the final threads of pride slip away.