Bit by bit, the muck cleared from her boots. He chomped on the brown sludge and forced himself to swallow it. Then, when he had satisfactorily finished cleaning both sets of her soles and heels, she kicked him over, making him topple like a skittle.

The slave lay beneath her, his hands clasped at his sides, looking up the length of her slender legs. Her buttocks jiggled sexily and he had to concentrate with all his mind to stop himself from producing an erection. From his point of view, she looked magnificent, like the true Goddess which she was. Slowly she raised her foot and carelessly rested her sharp stiletto heel on his throat.

Even the slightest pressure of her weight made him choke. He dare not move, scared that her heel would slip through his skin and puncture his neck. He lay perfectly still. Mistress Sin twisted her foot delicately from side to side as she increased and decreased her weight onto her foot. The slave breathed deeply, concentrating as hard as he could on not upsetting her.

The beautiful, young model brushed his face with the point of her stiletto and brushed it threateningly across his eyeball and nostrils and ear. One slip and he knew that he would instantly lose his sight or hearing. If this disaster befell him, he wondered what his Mistress would do with him. Would she keep a one-eyed slave? Or merely dispose of him as she had with others who were damaged or were past their sell by date? He knew that she was dicing with his life, and she did so without a care in the world.

Mistress Sin crouched down and knelt her knee onto his face. She pressed down with increasing pressure until he thought his cheekbones would crack under her weight. Although she hurt him, he could not help but adore her. He could smell the sweet perfume on her and felt exhilarated and eager to please.