Serena Deserves a Tongue to Clean her Feet
Princess Serena sits there with her feet still in the sneakers. The shoes are comfortable, but after a long day they already smell musty. Inside are her naked, tired, slightly damp feet. She smiles arrogantly.
“The sneakers first,” she says. The slave kneels down. He kisses the worn material, his tongue along the edges and on the warm insole, where the smell is strongest. He has to show where he belongs: down on the floor, in front of her old sneakers.
Then she pulls the shoes off. Her naked, damp feet come free — warm, salty, tired. “Now only the feet.” His tongue runs over the bare soles, licks away the moisture, works its way to the toes. Especially the spaces between them. There he sucks thoroughly, cleans and polishes until nothing of the day is left.
Serena leans back. “I deserve this. I am a princess. A princess with stinky feet.” She laughs softly. “But it doesn’t matter. I own foot slaves.” The slave stays down and keeps licking only her naked, damp feet.
