“If you’re gonna worship, then worship.” Kiyone held her up near her near the ball of her right foot and said, “Stick out your tongue.”
“What—?” Soi-Fon’s eyes widened. “I said tongue out,” Kiyone repeated, her voice sterner now, though still laced with amusement. “Unless you wanna be mashed into paste again!” Soi-Fon gritted her teeth, her face twisted in humiliation. But slowly, she opened her mouth and extended her tongue. Her whole body trembled as Kiyone’s sweat began to condensate on her tongue. The nightmarish feeling she had when she tasted her disgusting foot was beginning to resurface.
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