Strip

"Alright, boot-licker," Jess sneered, her voice a mocking melody. "I know you’re **** to prove yourself, but stay on your knees." She ran her fingers slowly through your hair, the softness of her hands contrasting with the sharp command, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. Her power over you was electric, and she knew it.

As you obeyed, shame washed over you in waves. The reality of the last ten minutes—spent licking the grime off her leather boots while she laughed, barely acknowledging you—settled heavily. She had reduced you to nothing but a source of entertainment, a toy she could control with the threat of the police hanging over you like a sword. A dark, creeping thought wormed its way into your mind: what if her plan wasn’t just to make you grovel? What if her goal was to utterly break you? What if, by the time she finally called the cops, you were already a hollow shell of yourself?

Jess narrowed her eyes in disgust, circling you slowly. "That hideous outfit... yes, you need to get rid of it immediately. A pathetic little thief like you deserves something... more appropriate, don’t you think?" Her words dripped with contempt.

“Yes, Mistress,” you murmured, hesitant but knowing there was no other response. She had all the power.

She motioned dismissively at you, already scrolling on her phone. “Well, go on. Strip.” The tone was careless, as if the command didn’t even merit her full attention.

The bodysuit clung uncomfortably to your skin, the zipper at the back a near-impossible task to reach. After a struggle, you managed to peel it off, first exposing your bare chest, then gradually your legs, until you were left standing in just a tight black thong and socks. You heard the sharp intake of breath from the girls, followed immediately by bursts of laughter. Jess erupted in uncontrollable giggles.

“Oh my god! Is that a thong?” She pointed, her laughter mixing with that of her friends. “That is priceless. And look at how it...pins everything in place. Oh, this just keeps getting better!” The taunting laughter echoed as your cheeks burned, and you felt a flood of humiliation.

Any attempt to shield yourself was pointless. Jess’s laughter only intensified. “I can’t believe it! I knew you were pathetic, but you keep finding new ways to surprise me. I’m wealthy, a brat, and maybe a bit of a bully, but seriously?” She scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. “You tried to break into my home, and here you are—on your knees, worshiping my boots in a thong and socks. Absolutely laughable.”

Abruptly, her laughter ceased, and a cold, predatory look filled her eyes. Her lip curled in disgust. “You disgust me. A useless thief, broken so easily.” Her sneer deepened, and without warning, she leaned in and spat on your face, her contempt burning. Before you could react, her hand flew out and struck you, the slap stinging sharply.

“Shut up.” Her shout cut through the air, though you hadn’t dared to make a sound. Jess’s face darkened, and she loomed over you, circling like a lioness eyeing a wounded prey.

"Look at me," she ordered, her voice a harsh whisper. As you met her gaze, she raised her boot, pressing it to your lips, forcing the taste of worn leather on your tongue. “There’s no running from this now,” she continued, her voice cruel. “From this point on, you’re nothing. Just a toy to be reminded of what power really looks like.”

Her boot stayed firmly against your lips, and she reached for the waistband of your thong. With a single, harsh tug, she yanked it upward, ignoring your muffled cry. The pain and humiliation mixed as she kept her boot firmly planted against your mouth. She pulled harder, tightening the thong until it stretched over your head, the band locked against your nose, forcing you to endure the scent of it. Your head spun with embarrassment as she finally removed her boot, watching as you slumped onto your back, wedged into this degrading position.

“Pathetic,” she spat, her disgust clear, the word sinking into you like a mark.