(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.