Do you want to put them on me?
You imagine me saying those words a hundred times over as you give my leather heels a spit-shine.
I'm sure you'd love to put them on me, wouldn't you? You'd love to kneel in front of your Goddess, take in the impossibly seductive arch of my feet as you hear me tease you, hoping against all hope, that tonight, you'll be allowed the privilege.
And you continue cleaning. Trying your best to do a perfect job, because 'good' isn't really good enough for your Mistress, is it?
Watching that mirror-like gloss beginning to emerge on the surface of my heels, you smile to yourself, imagining the curve of my thighs, calves, and ankles. Imagining how you'll drink in the sight of me, all the way down to these perfectly buffed heels.
Perfect, because Mistress doesn't accept anything less than perfect. Because only the perfect heels would be able to complement her perfect legs.
And perhaps, if you're lucky, and if you're obedient, you wonder...perhaps tonight, I'll let you put them on me.
Your mind wanders, imagining what else I'll be wearing tonight, that will perfectly complement these heels.
Perhaps I'll wear a short dress, accentuating my legs, and we'll dine out.
Perhaps I'll wear lingerie, and we'll stay in for the night.
Perhaps I'll wear stockings, and you'll watch me put them on.
Or perhaps you'll just worship my bare legs, kneeling in front of me like a good, obedient boy.
You want to be a good, obedient boy, don't you?
Don't you want to put them on me?
Good. Keep cleaning.