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Bellafussara's feet are bound in tight, sweaty socks, her scent filling the room as she wriggles in her restraints. She's mummified in rope, her feet the only part exposed, her toes curling in anticipation. She demands you worship her stinky feet, pushing them into your face, forcing you to lick and sniff her sweat-soaked soles. She grinds her heels into your chest, her feet the only part of her body you're allowed to touch, her scent driving you wild with desire.