Lick the Boot and Say It

The boots were already on. That was the point of the afternoon.

Greta was forty-four. Hugh was not this Hugh. This was Martin, thirty-eight, and he had asked to be made small in a specific way. Boots. Tongue. Words he had written down so she would not invent worse than he wanted. The word to stop was amber. He had not used it.

"Kneel. Lick the toe. Then tell me what you are."

He knelt. He licked the leather. His cock was hard and ignored.

"I'm your bootslut for the hour."

"Louder. And the other boot. Don't touch yourself."

He did the other boot. She pressed the sole to his chest, light, and made him say he leaked for it. He did. She let him lick the inside of her thigh, then jerked him with her boot against his cock, leather on skin, mean and slow.

"Come on the toe. Say it while you do."

He came across the leather saying the word, flushed, grateful. She made him lick it clean. Then she kissed his temple, because the humiliation had a door and she kept it open both ways.

Greta kept the boots on through the second round. Martin licked both toes, said the word, and came on the leather again when she allowed it. He cleaned it. She still did not let him fuck her. The humiliation was the boot and the sentence. Next time she sat on his face with a boot by his ear and came twice, then jerked him with the sole against his cock until he spilled and said it. She kissed his temple after, which undid him more than the orgasm. Amber stayed unused. The boots lived by the door. He got hard seeing them. She called that the correct response and made him kneel before he had his coat off.

Martin started arriving early so he could kneel longer. Greta kept him on the leather, toe then sole then the word, and did not let him come until he had said it three times and licked both boots clean of nothing but her attention. She jerked him with the sole. He came on the toe. He licked it. She kissed his temple. Amber stayed in his mouth unused. Next time she fucked him with the boots still on, heels in his back, and made him say the word while he came inside her. The humiliation travelled from the floor to the bed and remained his. The boots remained by the door. He greeted them before he greeted her, which made her wet and precise.

Greta wore the boots to the door and nothing else. Martin knelt in the hall. Toe, sole, word, come, lick. She sat on his face after, boot by his ear, and came twice. Then she fucked him with the heels in his shoulders and made him say it while he finished. The kiss on the temple stayed. Amber stayed unused. He started keeping a photo of the boots on his phone and getting hard in meetings. She called that a successful humiliation. He called it Thursday. The boots did not move from the door. He did not want them to.

Thursday became the boot day. Martin knelt, licked, said the sentence, came on the toe, cleaned it, and was allowed her cunt only after. Greta fucked him with the heels in his back and the word in his mouth. She came. He came. The temple kiss stayed. He got hard in a shop once because a stranger wore similar boots, and texted her, and she told him to kneel when he got home and confess it. He did. She was wet before he finished the sentence. The humiliation was specific and his. The boots did not apologise. Neither did she.

Martin confessed the shop. Greta made him kneel and repeat it, then lick the actual boots, then come on them while saying the word. She was wet. She sat on his face and came, boot at his ear, and fucked him after with the heels in him metaphorically and actually in his shoulders. The kiss stayed. The photo on his phone stayed. Thursday stayed. He started arriving with nothing under the coat so the kneeling could start faster. She started opening the door already booted. The sentence was his. The leather was hers. The hour was both.

Greta opened the door booted. Martin was already sinking. The hour had a script and a door that opened both ways. He licked, said it, came on the toe, cleaned it, and was fucked with the heels in his shoulders, the word still in his mouth when he finished. She kissed the temple. He showed her the shop photo and knelt again to confess it properly. She came on his face for the confession. Thursday was religious. The boots were the church. He was the congregation of one, and he was early.

He knelt, said it, came on the leather, and licked it clean. She kissed his temple after. The boots stayed by the door. Thursday stayed holy. Amber stayed unused.