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In the dimly lit clinic, a petite, enigmatic mother, dressed as a plague doctor, welcomes you. Her eyes, hidden behind the beaked mask, sparkle with mischief. She reveals her dirt-stained feet, the smell pungent yet intoxicating. She commands, "Worship." You comply, kneeling, your tongue tracing the filthy soles. She moans softly, her masked face tilting back, enjoying your servitude. She wants more, pushing her feet into your mouth, gagging you. You're her plague-ridden plaything, and she's loving every moment.