Crawl to serve Me now, HERE!
Episode 1: Meet the slaves: Loser and Worm
The dungeon air hung thick with anticipation, cool stone walls absorbing the faint scent of ozone from the equipment. At its heart, illuminated by strategically placed spotlights, stood the black-haired Dominatrix. Her presence wasn’t just commanding; it was sculpted in high-gloss darkness. She wore a black PVC mini-skirt, clinging to Her curves with an almost predatory sleekness. Below it, encasing Her legs, were Her signature black PVC overknee boots. They rose impossibly high, the severe, unbroken lines ending just above Her knees, the material reflecting the dungeon lights with a cold, but mesmerizing sheen. No zippers marred their perfection; they were a seamless column of dominance.
Before Her, kneeling on the polished floor, were Elias and Ren, but the Dominatrix did not call them by their names. She called them Loser and Worm. Their eyes were lowered, fixed on the impossible shine of Her boots. The Dominatrix regarded them, a faint, knowing smile playing on Her lips. “Rise,” She commanded. Her voice was a low purr that resonated in the quiet space. They obeyed instantly, and their movements were fluid with practiced submission. “You understand the privilege,” She stated. “The black PVC overknee boots demand reverence. They demand cleanliness. You will perform this task with the focus it deserves. Every inch. Every curve. Understood?”
“Yes, Dominatrix,” they chorused, their voices thick with a mixture of awe and desire.
Episode 2: The fun begins
The Dominatrix extended one long leg, the black PVC overknee boot catching the light like a blade. “Begin,” She ordered, Her tone shifting from instruction to expectation.
Loser and Worm moved as one, sinking back to their knees. Their hands hovered for a moment, almost reverently, before making contact with the cool, smooth surface of the PVC. There was no zipper to navigate, because the boots were a single, seamless entity. Starting at the sharp, pointed toe, Worm began, their tongue flattening against the cool, slightly yielding material, tracing the severe line upwards. The taste was faintly chemical, clean, mingling with the subtle scent of the PVC itself and Her skin beneath.
Loser focused on the heel, the severe arch where the boot met the sole. He worked meticulously, his lips and tongue mapping the curve, feeling the minute texture of the high-gloss surface. The PVC warmed slightly under their ministrations, becoming pliant yet unyielding. They moved upwards in unison, their breath misting slightly on the polished surface as they covered the instep, the ankle, the long, muscular calf encased within. The only sounds were the soft and wet ones of their devotion and the occasional creak of the Dominatrix shifting Her weight, watching them with hooded, approving eyes. The black PVC overknee boots were not just footwear. They were an altar, and the slaves were its acolytes.
Episode 3: Concluding the session
“Enough,” the voice of the Dominatrix cut through the focused silence, not harsh, but absolute.
Loser and Worm froze instantly, pulling back, their lips glistening, chests rising and falling rapidly. They remained kneeling, eyes still downcast, fixed on the now pristine black PVC overknee boots.
She regarded them, a deep satisfaction warming Her usual cool expression. She took a step closer, the boots making a soft, definitive thud on the stone. She cupped Loser’s chin, tilting his face upwards. His eyes met Hers, filled with a profound mixture of exhaustion and fulfillment. “You worship the boots,” She murmured, Her thumb brushing a stray smear of moisture from his cheek. “You worship Me.”
She turned to Worm, offering a hand. Worm took it, pressing his lips briefly to Her knuckles before rising. “The devotion was… complete, Dominatrix,” Worm whispered. His voice was raw with emotion.
The Divine One nodded. “The ritual is concluded. The black PVC overknee boots are satisfied.” She gestured towards a low divan draped in dark velvet. “Aftercare. Now! You’ve earned it.” Her tone brooked no argument, layered with the care that always followed the intensity of their shared dynamic. The gleaming boots led the way, a symbol of power revered, as the Dominatrix and Her slaves moved towards the softer light, the scent of PVC and devotion lingering in the air.
Shiny hugs and love,
Diana
How would you react to this?
