Today’s class: shaping him into the perfect bootrest.
My heavy Doctor Martens rest on his face, a constant reminder of his position. Each move is a lesson, each plea for mercy goes unheard as he learns the true meaning of submission.
I relentlessly train him to become a better floor, an impeccable object beneath Me. His caged cock serves as another tool for discipline—under My heavy boots, his crushed cock is a symbol of his place at the bottom.
I leave him on the floor, allowing him to contemplate his new role. Every moment is a chance to think about how he might improve, to be...

Today’s class: shaping him into the perfect bootrest.
My heavy Doctor Martens rest on his face, a constant reminder of his position. Each move is a lesson, each plea for mercy goes unheard as he learns the true meaning of submission.
I relentlessly train him to become a better floor, an impeccable object beneath Me. His caged cock serves as another tool for discipline—under My heavy boots, his crushed cock is a symbol of his place at the bottom.
I leave him on the floor, allowing him to contemplate his new role. Every moment is a chance to think about how he might improve, to be worthy of the honour of being My foostool.