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Lera, clad in a skin-tight latex catsuit, commands her prey to clean her boots, left dirty from her earlier adventures. He hesitates, but her stern gaze silences him. He begins, his tongue tentative, exploring the contours, tracing the laces, tasting the faint remnants of her previous conquests. She watches, her expression inscrutable, her foot pressing down, guiding him, forcing him to take more, to lick harder, faster, until her boots shine, and he's panting, his face glistening with his exertion and her leather.