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In a private parlour, a dominant woman commands her financial submissive to bring her whipped cream. He returns, a trembling tray in his hands, eyes downcast. She orders him to apply the cream to her stocking-clad feet, a sadistic smile playing on her lips. He obeys, his hands shaking as he spreads the cream, his breath hitching as he gazes at her feet. She then orders him to clean the mess with his tongue, his face pressed against her soles, a humiliating, yet arousing task.