Service Day: Boots

Nerine Mechanique shows the house slaves what service actually demands. Iona Grace and Lilla Katt kneel before her polished boots, wrists already cuffed behind their backs. Nerine steps forward, heel under Iona’s chin, forcing her to look up. "Lick before you polish," she orders. Iona’s tongue drags across the leather, slow and wet. Saliva glistens on the toe. Lilla leans in, lips parted, and follows the same path. Nerine watches them work, one hand resting on the crop tucked into her belt. When the first boot shines she shifts her weight and offers the second. The leather creaks under their mouths. Nerine’s toes flex inside. She presses the sole against Lilla’s breast, grinding until the nipple hardens. Iona’s breath hitches; she strains forward, still bound, trying to reach the heel. Nerine allows it, then jerks the boot away. "Not yet." She slides two gloved fingers between Lilla’s thighs, testing slick heat, then wipes the evidence across the freshly licked toe. Both slaves lean in again, tongues meeting at the seam where leather meets skin. Nerine’s crop taps their shoulders in time with each stroke, marking rhythm, marking ownership. When the leather gleams under the low lights she steps back, leaving them panting, mouths dark with spit and need, ready for whatever comes next.