It's feeding time for My bound, bindfolded, gagged and humbled worm. And the first thing on the his menu is kissing My boots, showing Me his inferior position. So inferior, in fact, that he is not allowed to lift his torso or pelvis off the floor, even though I know the humbler is pulling hard on his balls and him to bend his knees. Next on the menu is spit dripping all over My boots, followed by scraps of crushed dry bread from My soles, which I add flavor to with spit, cigarette ash and chewed-up cake. But, for some reason, My worm seems to not enjoy this special lunch, he keeps making pu... Show more