Slaves are always beneath me. And my slave is quite literally beneath me, with me using him exactly as such. He is the floor I walk on, spit on, ash on, step on, and wipe my heels clean with. My slave lights up my cigarette at a snap of my finger, and lays underneath me while I enjoy my cigarette. What a lucky bitch to view his Goddess from the bottom up, keeping his mouth open for me while I use him as a human ashtray. In between puffs of smoking, I clean my bootie heels with his mouth, scraping my soles on his tongue and rubbing in my ashes, and having him suck my heels clean. When I’m done smoking, I keep him on the floor where he belongs, first trampling on his chest and nipples with my sharp stilettos, and then stomping on his belly and crotch while he writhes around in pain. I enjoy watching him succumb to my powerful stomps, and when I’m finally done with him, he crawls away, knowing exactly what he is to me.
