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In latex-clad boots, Mistress Sacred stands tall, her slave groveling at her feet. She commands him to crawl, his body trembling with anticipation. He complies, his face inches from her boots. She grinds her heels into his back, his body arching in pain. She laughs, her voice echoing in the empty room. She orders him to kiss her boots, her soles, her toes. He does, his tongue worshipping every inch. She steps on his hands, his fingers splaying, his knuckles turning white. She laughs again, her eyes gleaming with cruel delight.