Under table slave a treat for you

As I settle into my work, you’re exactly where you belong—beneath my table, under the sway of my dangling high heels. The rhythm of my legs and the sight of my feet are pure indulgence for you, leaving you utterly undone. I know your devotion, your hunger for them, so I lower my soles to your lips, demanding you clean every speck with your tongue. Don’t miss a single fiber—finish your task before I return to my duties.