Shame or pleasure.

When she finished, he grabbed her by the hair and put her head to the floor. Lick your splashes off my shoes and on the floor around the Turkish toilet.

His gaze was fascinated and almost mad. She felt she had to comply. She stuck out her tongue, despite the disgust, but terribly aroused by this degradation.

Emma's tongue stuck to the wet tiles, tracing trembling lines through the warm splashes. The salty, acrid taste made her wince, but a guilty shiver ran through her stomach when the man dug his fingers deeper into her hair, forcing her face to press against the floor.

"Slower," he murmured, his raspy voice echoing in the enclosed space.

She obeyed, slowing the movement of her tongue, dragging the wet tip along the tiles with calculated slowness. Saliva mingled with the warm traces, creating a nauseating mixture that clung to her lips. A moan escaped her as he pulled harder on her hair, forcing her neck to arch, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

The grip on her hair tightened even more, forcing a small cry from Emma as his tongue spread further across the slimy tiles. A warm drop slid down her cheek; was it water or her own tears? She couldn't tell.

"Collect it all," the man above her growled, pressing his foot against the back of her neck with humiliating pressure.

His hot breath caressed her skin as she continued her furrow, each licked patch triggering delicious shame in her.

When she finished the floor, still clutching her hair in pain,

• My shoes now, and you'll clean the soles underneath too.

Emma moaned, almost pleased to be treated like this. Her tongue licked at his right shoe. The smooth leather, impregnated with a thin film of dust and her urine, clung to her taste buds. She felt the ridges of the sole as he lifted her shoe to give her access, on her tongue, then her lips kissed the soiled laces.

She had never felt this satisfied, and without hesitation she attacked the other shoe as he inserted a finger into her wet vagina.

You like it! You're wet, he said, amused and fascinated. Few of the slaves he frequented enjoyed being treated like this and to such a level.

She gasped as his finger pushed deeper, her muscles contracting around the intrusion in spite of herself. Her lips trembled as she licked the sole, the rough leather scraping against her tongue as a trickle of saliva mingled with the filth.

She felt the cold leather of the sole soak up his saliva, each movement of his tongue stirring up traces of dust and dried moisture. Her breath quickened as his finger curled inside her, pressing against a sensitive spot that made her arch her back in spite of herself. A trickle of heat rose to her cheeks as another moan escaped her, muffled against the shoe.

The guard made this humiliation last a long time, then pulled her by the hair and threw her under the shower while Miel undressed to begin washing her.