And stood upon

Jesse poked out his tongue, nervously. Daintily. He didn’t really know how to approach this.

A somewhat random selection of seniors had been recruited in by Ms Julian, presumably just whomever was free from other duties at the time. A few that the sissy now recognised, a few that he did not… but all having brought their own variations on black, leather boots.

The pair that he had been tasked with cleaning belonged to the dark-skinned goddess who had stood so proudly silent through their welcoming ceremony. The boots themselves were tall and sturdy and old fashioned. Embellished only with a silver-looped trim which perfectly echoed, and in fact latched into, those thousand delicate chains which weaved around and were laced into her body. Clearly having been remodified by Mrs Durren to fit their latest in a long line of owners. Staring up from his grovelling position, face near the floor and ass in the air… The young woman looked to be a hundred foot tall to the small, pale boy. He could barely bring himself to gaze past all those ferocious curves and glittering links to meet the eyes far above. Yet the stare that held him there was unshakeable: Cold, but not contemptuous. Superior, but not condescending. It was a visage that knew its own place and duty, and told you: you should be getting on with yours. Without question of argument or hesitation.

So Jesse proceeded to do as he had been instructed, running his taste buds across already-polished leather. The flavour was one of old, imperial dignity. Nature’s musk cured with chemicals to stave off a march through endless rainy days. Its smell filled his nostrils and told him these boots had already seen more of the world than he might ever, and would still be capable of stomping on the likes of him a century from now. The sissy wondered how many other pathetic, mewling creatures such as himself had already kissed these same folds of stitched and laced-up leather? He almost felt a beat of pride, himself… to join in their ranks of submission. He was passing on a flutter of lips and prayer of lowliness from one generation to the next. That made all senses of debasement and humiliation here seem vain, and trivial. Here he was, on his knees, among a whole line of his classmates doing the same. Just the next class of trainee sluts in this school’s oh-so vaunted history. What could he possibly have to complain about? This was how the world turned.

The older girl above him seemed to sense some measure of this acceptance growing within him. As it too, must have slowly come to her. She carefully raised one boot and set its toe pressing upon his shoulder blade... not hard and not too heavily. The click of her heel settling into this new position was just an announcement nearby his ear. The weight she pushed down upon him, just a measure of her trust that he would not buck or unbalance her. It lowered him down further to reach more of the other boot, the press of his own knees into his chest the only real discomfort… besides the traitorous rise of his little cock towards his belly-button. Jesse kept his arms clasped behind his back, however, as he had been told they had to remain. He was beginning to trust this silent marvel of womankind and her clearly proven training, more than he had ever trusted much of anything in his life. Somehow, it was so much easier… to hold out his heart and soul; when the receiver simply had the confidence to reach in and claim them. He felt the cooling press of the floor against his face and found himself more at home than he ever thought was possible. This was surely what the universe had been trying to tell him, through all those years of hardship.

He only hoped he could remember the feeling… when the doubts came inevitably spiralling back in.