She Worshipped My Boots Last Night
I saw my first (in-person) boot worshipping scene over 20 years ago now. It was erotic and powerful and beautiful, and it’s stuck with me since then.
It’s not something I look for often. Hell, I don’t even wear my boots very often in general, never mind for kink events, leather isn’t a big fetish of mine, etc. It has to be the right person, and in the right dynamic (even if only for that encounter) with me. I’ve had my boots worshipped maybe a dozen times over the years.
credit: Jack_M
The first truly great boot worshipping scene I had was probably four years ago; my then-play partner and I had no formal relationship or dynamic beyond play, but our play was intensely D/s-based in its nature, she loved being beneath my feet and reduced to a creature of service for me, and lived for exhibitionism. It was a fantastic scene, and a connection between us that we only sometimes achieved. Her and I did not part on good terms, but I remember that scene vividly and with incredible fondness. None of the other boot worship scenes I’ve participated in were as good as that one. Until the night I experienced boot worship on a level I didn’t think possible.
My submissive and I had talked about her worshipping my boots for a little while; since we formally began our D/s relationship this past summer we’ve begun exploring various areas we had largely left alone prior to that. She had never engaged in boot worship, and wasn’t even really familiar with it. But she desires to serve and please in a selfless way I hear people talk a lot about, but rarely actually see. So we agreed that last night would be time for her to place herself before my feet.
Her primary Dom had plans with his other partners, so I had her to myself for the evening. I picked her up and we went to dinner (oddly enough at a restaurant an hour away that I’ve been to exactly once in my life before – for dinner with friends right before a trip to an adult entertainment club for their bachelor/bachelorette party). We arrived at the club and headed in, with less gear than usual (just the aftercare bag and the small toybox).
We socialized with friends for quite a while – we’ve both had a rough few weeks, and it took some time for us to let our worries fade and relax a bit in our space. I had her put my shoes away and lace my boots – which are a decade old and still nearly rigid, and not the most ideal boots for worship – on me, and we began to sink into the moment. I wanted a certain space for it – public, so plenty of open floor space as needed, but also not in the middle of traffic. After deciding against a few possibilities – the back room was too crowded, the bedrooms weren’t right, and the available social areas weren’t meant for play- we ended up settling on the front dance/rope room, along a wall out of the main traffic flow.
And then, it was time. I knew she’d be nervous – again, she had no clue about boot worshipping, and she’d worry about failing me. And I was nervous for her, because I wanted her to please me, not just for my own pleasure, but so that she could take pride in her service. But we will walk our path together, and so I stripped her clothing off, and left her bare, with nothing but our collars on her. And I then I pushed her gently to the floor, and pushed her face onto my boot.
She’d never seen boot worshipping in person; turns out she watched googled videos to learn about it.
She had no idea what she was doing.
She was incredible.
I could tell you how she began by kissing the toes of my boots, and then worked her way up the laces. I could tell you how she slowly rubbed her cheek against the vamp and shaft, first one, then the other. Or how she dutifully, carefully, intently, licked almost every inch of my boots, never shying away though her mouth filled with the taste of old leather. I could tell you how she almost always kept a hand touching my bare shins above the boots and maintaining skin-to-skin connection between us.
“She'll tell you that this is because she took a Pepto Bismol tablet when we got home from the club after the boot worshipping scene. I'm gonna say it’s because she spent two hours cleaning my boots with her tongue.” - Jack_M. Posted with express consent from Jack_M (photographer) and his submissive, VanillaTwist-75 (pictured).
I could tell you this, in incredible detail and clarity, as if I still see it in my mind’s eye this moment before me, how she kissed and licked and polished my boots with her mouth and face.
How my bare, beautiful girl lay naked and exposed on the floor, sometimes on her stomach, sometimes curled on her side around my boots, and slowly emptied herself out until she was only a vessel of worship.
Or how after she finished the first stage of cleaning it was time for the “powerwash” cycle. :)
How she did as she was told, and slowly rode the toes of my boot, one, then the other, in her crotch.
How she dragged her clit up and down the laces of each boot until she hissed, and then grunted, and moaned.
I could tell you how she at first masturbated with and then made love to my boots, to me through my boots. How she fucked my boot so hard I thought she'd break my ankles with her orgasms.
I could tell you how what started as duty became pleasure, and that there were puddles to be mopped up beneath her and my boots later. I could tell you about the feel and the smell and the sound of her service and her love, and how our connection grew moment by moment, as we do. And I could tell you that it was erotic and powerful and beautiful and kinky and loving and filled with service and love beyond any boot worshipping scene I'd previously experienced or dreamt of.
But I won’t.
If you were there that night and happened to be one of the lucky ones who walked by and got to see it, you probably understand a little of what I can never find the right words to convey here. If you were lucky enough to actually be me, you’d know you’ll carry the memory forever, and it doesn’t matter who else saw it.
So instead I’ll just tell you that in a loud party with many, many people, everything else dwindled away, until it was just you and me and all of the people. And that I still don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you. And that we lived our song in that moment, as we do, in ways large and small, each day. And that my boots were worshipped, but in reality I was worshipped, and served, and loved.
That’s enough for you to know. The rest is Mine.
About the Author: Jack_M is a polyamorous Dominant and Sadist and also possibly an aging, overweight Sasquatch, although the latter remains unconfirmed. VanillaTwist-75 is his beloved girl.
