Crawling

He came to me crawling, tongue wagging out of his mouth.

He hadn't been able to catch his breath since the heel of my shoe slammed into his balls under the table at the restaurant.
This had been months of planning. I practiced how I would touch him over and again in my head.

My pussy dripped, clenching and relaxing repeatedly, in my panties. I wanted to tear him apart and then walk all over the broken pieces of him only to rebuild him to do it all over again.

I traced with my finger tips each old scar on his body. Memories of Mistresses past. I lifted one soft, buttery smooth boot to his mouth. He licked at it like a starving dog.

"You were so hungry, no wonder you came looking for Me." I whispered.
Up and down he went, stopping only to lick the buckles until they gleamed.
His cock oozed excitement onto the floor. I rubbed one sole into it and offered it to him. He murmured before lapping it up.

What a good Boy.