I want My chattel to focus entirely on My perfect boots. However, the boy is not worthy of touching them or embracing the sexual stretch leather uppers. I know how strongly he wants to lick, kiss and worship My perfect Italian leather boots; his lips and nose are so close to them. Yet the only things his disgusting mouth and tongue are going to receive today are ash, spit and smoke. Looking up to Me on the throne, his mouth remains open, with tongue extended, filling up with My burnt cigarette ash and spit. he can swallow only when I grant him permission to do so, yet he must inhale every p... Show more