(Another great work by /u/boozer1337 who turned my experience into such a saucy piece of writing.)
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Looking down on him from her new, high-heeled vantage point, she was struck by how small he looked, kneeling low to the ground and kissing her boots in a helpless frenzy which he was obviously powerless to control. As he kissed up and down her booted legs, little moans – more like whimpers – began to escape his lips, as if the more he was frantically flattering her and worshipping her, the more he desperately needed to worship her. As if she was so beautiful, so divine, so glorious that in her presence, his aching need to serve her was entirely beyond the possibility of satisfying. As if he was starving – and no matter how much he ate and drank, his hunger and thirst was impossible to quench.
Sarah put her hands on her hips and extended her foot, posing with it in an Angelina Jolie esque forward-step stance. As Matt wordlessly followed her movement with his lips like a puppy would follow a treat, Sarah’s body tingled from head to toe; her heart was skipping every second beat and waves of pure power were washing over her. Matt’s hands ran up and down her legs, from her thighs to the heels of her boots, hugging them tightly as he kissed and moaned with a possessed passion.
Sarah’s mind raced as the tingles and orgasmic jolts reverberated through her body. She had never been interested in this before – indeed, she had found his nudging and nagging in this direction downright tiresome and tedious. And yet, towering above him in her new, exquisite boots, she felt like a queen. Powerful. Sexy. Divine. She had never even considered the possibility before that she was meant to be worshipped and adored, but as she looked down on her devoted slave – “Wow” she thought, “I have a slave now!” – it just felt right. In that moment, she ruled the entire universe, and dammit, why shouldn’t she enjoy it?
Giggling softly, she stomped the boot he was kissing down onto the ground suddenly, startling him. Without moving his body from its prostrated position, he craned his neck upwards in surprise. Their eyes met for just a split second – his face cute and innocent, hers wickedly, smirkingly sadistic – before she raised her other boot and pressed it into his face. “Down, boy” she cooed, dissolving into a deep, wicked fit of giggles. Matt moaned wordlessly and began to kiss her sole, wrapping his arms around her newly raised leg and kissing his way up her boot, Sarah laughing, him moaning desperately in between kisses. Further and further he kissed, until his lips left her boot and made contact with her bare thigh. Sarah tilted her head back and sighed, feeling blissfully tingly as he now kissed each thigh one after the other, again and again, higher and higher. As his face reached the bridge of her thighs and her pussy, he moaned again before latching on to her, gently pushing the fabric of her panties to one side.
Sarah’s world – at least, what was left of it – crumbled in an instant as his tongue made contact. The last facade of inhibition seemed to leave her in the same breath as the moan that escaped her lips, and she was finally able to let go. Grinding herself against him, she fucked his face with a raw, unconstrained, self-serving passion. Kicking one leg and then the other over his shoulders, she mounted him, hands tightly gripping his hair, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs with an equivalent passion. He kissed, licked and worshipped her with a frenzy matched only by her own – grinding, moaning, hair-pulling, and giggling as she felt herself ascend to the pantheon of the goddesses, while he remained kneeling on Earth and gazing up at her laughing, powerful form. This moment was about her pleasure, her divinity, her power. She had no concern for his exertion in holding her body up on his shoulders, no concern for his arousal, no concern even for whether or not he could breathe – they were lesser concerns, entirely insignificant when considered next to her rapidly building orgasmic crescendo. As he brought her there, she did not relent – there would be no mercy shown or leeway granted here. She fucked his face long and hard, never pausing, never slowing, never releasing her tight grip on his hair or allowing him even a moment to collect himself.
On and on her passion went, as orgasm after orgasm racked her body, until eventually she realised that neither of them had moved in a long time, that she had fallen into a post-orgasmic haze, that She was slumped on top of his face as he kissed, nibbled and licked in and around her thighs. She had no idea how long they had lain there, how long she had kept Matt trapped and enslaved between her legs, how many minutes – or hours – or even days – it had been since he had zipped up her boots
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7a6gws/fm_how_i_made_my_bf_worship_my_thighhigh_boots
I think I need to invest in some boots like those :D