It is evening and I have just returned to my dungeon after a night at the disco. My doormat awaits me longing for the moment when it will be used to clean up my soles by trampling him. My old leather boots have really dirty soles and as I step on it I like to know that I have reduced my slave to a helpless mat beneath me. The more he groans, the more I laugh at the absolute power of reducing him to nothingness by trampling on him. I sink my heel several times into his swollen balls because he has been in chastity for more than a month since he has to become only an instrument and loose all ... Show more