Worshiping My Towering Feet
KingMarti watched as the new foot bitch kneeled before him, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He had chosen this boy carefully, knowing he would excel in his new role. "Kneel, boy, as I introduce your new life - a life devoted to worshiping these towering, commanding feet," he commanded. The boy's eyes widened in submission as he obeyed, his gaze fixated on the magnificent pair of feet before him.
Forget faces; you'll gaze upon nothing but soles until I decree otherwise. Every second counts in this new reality. Kiss, lick, adore - that's your mantra now. From heel to toe, no inch escapes your hungry mouth. Each toe is a treasure, and you'll suck them clean, relishing the dirt and grime that's been waiting for your tongue's touch. Lick away, boy. Scrub every crevice with that eager tongue of yours. Taste the foot sweat, the dirt - they're your nourishment now. This is your purpose, your sole reason for existence.
24/7, you'll be on call to clean these feet, ensuring not a speck of dirt remains. It's a hard taskmaster you serve, but oh, how you'll thrive under this discipline. And who knows? If you prove yourself worthy, maybe I'll let you do more than lick and kiss. But for now, boy, focus on what matters: cleaning these fucking feet until they gleam. Thank me as you worship each toe, your gratitude palpable in every lick, every kiss. This is your life now, and you love it - every dirty, filthy, glorious inch of it.
KingMarti stepped back, watching as the boy went to work on his feet. He could feel the boy's reverence in every lick and kiss, and it filled him with an intense sense of power. He knew that this boy belonged to him now, body and soul. As he watched, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement for the many adventures - and foot fetish experiences - that lay ahead.
