My slave kneels on all fours in front of me, a collar chain tightly held in my hand, exactly where he belongs. He starts by worshipping my high heels with reverence. His lips glide over every inch until I allow him to suck on the heel like a filthy dog. Then I command him to take off my shoe, slowly and submissively. At last, he may kiss and lick my feet. I enjoy how devotedly he adores each toe. But today, a very special treat awaits him. I deliberately let the calluses grow just for him. In front of his eyes, I file them into a bowl. He knows exactly what's coming next. First, he has to lick the foot rasp, every single piece of skin. I hold out the bowl to him, filled with my foot skin, and he has to greedily lick it clean. But it gets even better. I piss into a measuring cup, golden and warm, and serve him my champagne. He drinks reluctantly, disgusted, but obedient. That’s exactly what I love about him. And while the taste still clings to his throat, it continues. Back to the bowl, he must lick again! Nothing from my divine body will go to waste.