Under Feet Added: Femdom Foot Worship Russian

“Your tie,” she said, pointing with her chin. “It’s a Ferragamo. Very expensive. You wore it while you crushed the spirit of that young woman.”

He bent lower, pressing his forehead to the cool, polished wood of the floor. Then, he took her right foot in his trembling hands. He began with his lips, a whisper of a kiss on her instep. He could feel the latent strength in the tendons beneath the skin. He kissed again, firmer this time, trailing his mouth along the ridge of her arch, breathing in the clean, human scent of her—soap, a trace of the leather from her boots, and the faint, unique pheromone that was simply Anya .

She pressed down, just a fraction harder, and Ivan Volkov, the king of Moscow logistics, closed his eyes and surrendered completely to the beautiful, crushing weight of the Russian earth beneath his goddess’s feet. Femdom Foot Worship Russian Under Feet Added

“Come,” she said. A single word, low and without inflection.

Then she moved one foot up, planting it gently but firmly over his mouth. The other foot came to rest on his forehead, her toes curling slightly into his hair. He was pinned. He was silenced. He was hers . “Your tie,” she said, pointing with her chin

He swallowed. “Yes, Anya. I was wrong.”

He fumbled with the silk knot, his fingers clumsy with reverence and arousal. He folded the deep crimson tie into a precise square and placed it on the floor. You wore it while you crushed the spirit of that young woman

“Prove your remorse.”