GODDESS AMANDA'S BOOTIES
He squirmed in the half-darkness under Goddess Amanda’s desk, listening to the office door closing and the sharp boot-heels clicking across the floor. He readied himself to serve his allmighty mistress, his perfect Goddess. The slave let his eager tongue hang out.
Goddess Amanda sat in her chair and slid towards her desk. She rested one of her leather booties’ soles on top of the slave’s back. She stepped the other bootie in front of the man’s begging face. She turned on her computer and got back to work.
Under the desk, the slave began his job of licking Amanda’s boot.
He started with the rounded toe, tasting the worn leather both above and below. He loved the gritty taste of whatever his Goddess had been stepping on throughout the day. He kissed the very tip of the toe, and even sucked it lightly. It was very important to worship the Goddess’ boots with enough intensity that she feel it, but not too much that she become distracted.
He then guided his tongue gradually underneath the toe more, until he was completely licking the bottom. Amanda very slowly raised the toe enough to let him lick further, across more of the leather sole. An occasional twist of her other boot’s heel in his back, indicated to the slave whether or not he was on the right track.
Soon, Goddess Amanda had tilted the bootie halfway on its side, letting the slave lick the entire expanse of the sole. This was the worshipper’s favorite part. In the half-dark, he could see the beautiful sole. He could glimpse the lines of the non-slip tread and the areas of discoloration that were more worn than others. He rubbed his tongue thankfully over the ridges of the tread, half-kissing them at the same time.
He squirmed with excitement as he eagerly tasted the sole’s tread. He whispered prayers to his Goddess as he licked the tread, calling the name of the perfect Amanda, the beautiful Goddess above him. He whispered as he licked, making a feverish hissing sound, quiet enough that his Goddess would not be disturbed.
Amanda tilted her boot just a little and this time the light hit the sole enough so the slave could see more. He gasped with pleasure at the glint of gold from the stamp on the boot’s arch. He had always loved that stamp, as worn away as it was. It was a round circle with words inside: “Genuine Leather Soles” on the top, then “Made in Brazil” along the bottom. There was also a very faded “10” stamped right below the circle. Most of the letters had worn away and were almost unreadable, but the slave had spent many hours staring at the stamp and could often see it in his dreams.
With helpless passion, the slave pressed his cheek against the arch of the boot, against the faded stamp. He moaned slightly, and thanked heaven that he was allowed to worship Goddess Amanda’s beautiful cream-colored leather booties.
Amanda kept her right bootie on the helpless slave’s face, and started teasing him with the sole of her left bootie.
Soon, the other bootie came into view. The slave watched the tan leather sole slide towards his face. This sole was a little less worn than the one against his cheek.
The slave moaned with pleasure at the sight of the second bootie. He saw the non-slip tread and the gold stamp, just like the one pressing onto his face. Speaking of which, that sole had a cold, smooth feeling as it firmly pressed against his cheek.
The slave also noticed another detail on Goddess Amanda’s left sole. He couldn’t be sure of what it was, but he definitely could see a dark discoloration, perhaps a smear of mud or bubblegum. The mark was at the very edge of the sole’s tread, right before the arch started to curve upward About half of the shape was on the tread and it may have been about the size of a dime. The shape had some volume, too, like a very slight lump. It may definitely have been chewing gum that hadn’t been completely pressed flat yet and imbedded into the sole’s leather. In the half-light it was hard to tell.
The slave breathed heavily, hoping the Goddess would slide her sole closer. He dared not squirm towards the sole since he was pinned beneath the other one. The left booties was about a foot and a half away, but it seemed like a mile.
The slave instinctively let his tongue hang out; he wanted to lick that sole clean and taste whatever that bit of flattened crud was. He wanted to beg to the Goddess out loud, but was too afriad.
Luckily, the Goddess Amanda started moving the slave’s head with the sharp heel of her right bootie, towards the sole of the left one. She wasn’t doing it intentionally, just moving her foot as she worked on the computer. The lucky slave was squirming along, making sure to stay under the bootie, feeling the sharp heel at the side of his neck and the sole on his cheek. He was getting closer to the other bootie and he could see more detail.
He could see the gold stamp on the arch, glistening in the half-light. He could see that spot of dark crud a little better. The slave couldn’t help it. He craned his neck as much as he could to see the spot closer.
At that moment, the Goddess above happened to tilt that left bootie a little on its side, facing the sole even more towards the worshipping slave. The helpless man finally got an excellent view of the left bootie’s sole, including the bottom of the heel. His eyes were mostly focused on that mysterious bit of crud, however, and he wanted to lick it off so bad. As the light hit the sole, he saw the shape in detail. It was a mixture of dark red and lighter pink colors, less like chewing gum and more like....
The slave gulped with fear and excitement. He suddenly realized he was looking at the crushed remains of a tiny flattened man! The mixture of colors was spread out in a splatter-like shape. He couldn’t see arms or legs, but he see the glistening of the jelly-like goo. Some of it had probably tracked off when the Goddess had walked, since crushing the man. Was the slave killed accidentally, as the Goddess was walking to work? Probably not. The slave imagined that Goddess Amanda had probably just squished the tiny man shortly before entering the office. The pulp still seemed wet.
The slave was fascinated by the smeared shape of the crushed body. Of course, he was sure that Goddess Amanda killed men by the hundreds every day. Why wouldn’t her soles have lots of squished bodies stuck to them? It was just so early in the morning! The slave’s mind raced with thoughts of tiny men being squashed by the Goddess Amanda as she prepared to leave the house for work.
Of course, he started thinking about when the Goddess would shrink him and squash him. It was only a matter of short time. He had been assigned the job of under-the-desk boot-licker and had been doing it for almost a week now. How many slaves had done this job before him? How long did they typically last before the Goddess decided to shrink them and squash them? Was he going to be crushed today?
The slave became obssessed with staring at the crushed body, wondering when he would look like that. Did the little slave die happily? Was it a slow crush or a fast stomp? By the look of the spread-out guts, it seemed that Amanda must have been sliding her sole back slightly as she crushed the man. She must have been doing it fairly slow, probably enjoying the sensation of wiping a tiny man’s life away with such a simple, small movement.
The slave started squirming with excitement, the more he looked at the dead body and thought abnout being squashed. Meanwhile, above, Amanda was busy working and couldn’t care less about the man praying to her bootie. She probably didn’t even know about the crushed glob stuck to her sole. Why would she even remember one little man she may have stepped on?