Mistress Ayn studies Her boots, the faint smudges marring their otherwise pristine surface igniting Her displeasure. It was doi’s duty to ensure their perfection, a duty he has failed. Summoned before Her, his face meets Her hand, a stinging reminder of his inadequacy. The humiliation is swift and deliberate, establishing the gravity of his failure.

The boots are sacred, their leather untouchable by filth such as his. When he dares to attempt their cleaning with his tongue, Her fury escalates. Such disrespect cannot go unpunished. he will atone with what he holds most precious: h...

Mistress Ayn studies Her boots, the faint smudges marring their otherwise pristine surface igniting Her displeasure. It was doi’s duty to ensure their perfection, a duty he has failed. Summoned before Her, his face meets Her hand, a stinging reminder of his inadequacy. The humiliation is swift and deliberate, establishing the gravity of his failure.

The boots are sacred, their leather untouchable by filth such as his. When he dares to attempt their cleaning with his tongue, Her fury escalates. Such disrespect cannot go unpunished. he will atone with what he holds most precious: his cock and balls. The punishment is relentless. Every strike to his vulnerable flesh carries with it the weight of Her scorn. For every blow, he must lower himself further, his lips brushing the very spots he has failed to clean.

Each moment is a painful reminder of his place, the agony inflicted upon him mirrored in the perfection restored to Her boots. his body is left aching, marked by Her lesson, and by the end, there is no question of his regret. Mistress Ayn's standards are absolute, and any failure to meet them carries a cost that cannot be forgotten.