Collared and leashed, My boy is ordered to worship My days sweat beneath My delicate armpits. First through My t-shirt, the damp, warm inviting place that he longs to place his nose. I drag him round by his leash to both armpits, placing him exactly where I want him and he cant help but profess his complete euphoria over the scent and warmth. When I feel satisfied he has gotten everything he can from My t-shirt, I remove it and allow him to worship My bare armpit, tasting it, licking softly, smelling it, pure worship.