The copyright of this story is reserved. It may not be published or distributed on paper, electronically or by any other means for profit without the prior written consent of its author.

I wrote this story for a woman, which is the reason that it is written from her perspective. If nothing else, I hope it may amuse the dominant women of this board. If any woman in southern Sweden, eastern Denmark or Northern Germany reading this would like to try this or anything similar in real life, I would absolutely *love* to hear from you. I can be contacted at roadkill@swipnet.se.

You're standing in front of your open wardrobe pondering the large selection of both elegant and sexy outfits. Still, you're frustrated. They all look far too familiar and old to you, even though every single one of them would make heads turn on your sensual body. You decide to go to the one of the town's more expensive malls and have a look at what's offered.

In the warm weather it only takes a few minutes until your bare feet start to sweat inside the confined space of your leather shoes, and you feel the sweat make your soles stick to the insoles of the shoes as you work the pedals of your car. You're annoyed that you're slave isn't there to do his job of cleaning you're feet with his tongue. You make a mental note of punishing him for this. At this thought a barely noticable evil smirk passes over the exquisite features of your face.

Soon enough you arrive at the mall. You try to find a place near the entrance, but you eventually end up having to park further away from the entrance than you would've liked. You get out of your car, and walk toward the entrance of the mall. As you're getting close, you can see through the windows, that there seems to be a small crowd gathered just inside the entrance in front of a number of small stalls. Once inside you're greeted by a notice:

"The survey we recently did in our continuing efforts to better serve you, our valued customer, we discovered, that a significant number of you thought that the floors of the mall weren't as clean as you expected them to be. As a result, we have decided to offer our customers the free use of shoe cleaning service at all entrances of the mall." ---The management

- You people don't know the meaning of serving me, you think to yourself, when you've read the notice!

Still, the line for the shoe cleaning service has made you curious. You get in line to wait for your turn. While you're waiting you notice that some of the women leaving the stall after having used it are blushing and looking somewhat embarrassed, while others leave it with a content smile. You're puzzled that the shoes of many of the women are leaving wet footprints on the floor as they walk away. Some of the women talk excitedly among themselves and giggle while walking away. You overhear the women say things like: How could *anyone* want a job like this!? I wonder what the salary is?

Your train of thought is interrupted by the slamming sound of the door of the stall in front of you as the woman before left it. You step into the stall. There's a square in the floor with a slightly different shade of colour than the rest of the floor. It's approximately 4" x 4". Inside this square there's an even smaller square shape (1.5" x 1.5"), that looks like some sort of hatch.

- What an odd shoe cleaning machine, you think to yourself.

On the wall in front of you is a button. The instructions beside it say: Press button for service. You press the button. There's a soft noise from the floor of the stall, and a sign lights up in front of you with further instructions: "You should by now see a human tongue sticking up out of the floor. The larger square surrounding the hole should've become transparent allowing you to view the face of the male employee working in this stall. Please do not feel embarrassed to wipe the dirt on the soles of your shoes off on his tongue. This is an environmentally friendly method, and he is here to serve you. In some cases your soles may be so soiled, that you must allow the employee to pull his tongue back into his mouth for cleaning. Just stop wiping momentarily, and he will automatically do this, and then offer his tongue again. We thank you for helping to keep this mall a tidy one."

- This is exactly what my sweaty feet need.

You quickly remove your shoes. The man beneath the window looks somewhat surprised, but keeps his tongue in position. You start slowly wiping the sticky and sweaty soles of your bare feet on his warm, wet, soft tongue, enjoying the soothing and cooling feeling on your feet. You pause regularly to allow the man to refresh his tongue for you in his mouth. When you've thoroughly cleaned the soles of both of your feet, you pinch the man's tongue between two of your toes, and raise your foot, causing his tongue to slide through the crevice between your toes. The man quickly catches on, and all you have to do is spread your toes as the man licks between each toe on each foot, transferring the smelly, disgusting goo of toejam and dirt from your foot to his tongue and mouth, where it belongs. When he's finished your toes and you're feet feel clean and refreshed, you put your shoes back on, and start wiping the sole of the right one on the man's tongue. The man's tongue quickly turns very black as the dirt and grime from the streets on the sole of your shoe is transferred onto his tongue. You pause, and the man withdraws his tongue into his mouth. You watch him vigourously swirl it around in his mouth. It makes you quite excited when you see his throat pulse, knowing that he has now swallowed all that disgusting streetdirt.

- It's amazing what the poor will do for money, you think to yourself, and thank you're lucky star that you're a wealthy and succesful businesswoman. On the other hand this man probably isn't neither that intelligent nor educated, so being a shoe wipe for the wealthy is a job he's well suited for.

When he presents his tongue again, you continue to wipe the sole of your right shoe, but you're somewhat disappointed, when there's barely any change of the colour of his tongue, making it apparent that that sole is now clean. You start wiping the left shoe instead. Once again the man's tongue blackened by the dirt from the sole of your shoe, but to your delight you also notice some kind of black paste of unknown origin coming off that sole and sticking to his tongue. You pause, and once again you're rewarded with a show of the man consuming dirt. When he presents his tongue again, you wipe your sole back and forth a few times, but there's little or no change in the colour of the man's tongue, so you conclude that your shoes are now clean.

As you leave the stall you make a mental note of trying to find a dog turd or something similarly disgusting to step in outside the mall the next time you visit.