Xox0kai0xox sits, her back against the wall, her legs spread wide, a smirk playing on her lips. She knows what you crave, what you're here for. She's the only woman in this room, in this world, that matters. Her feet, her rules. She starts the dirty talk, her voice a velvet whip, "Do you like my feet, baby? Tell me how much you worship them." You obey, your words a desperate plea, your tongue a slave to her command. She laughs, a sound that's equal parts cruel and seductive, as she guides your head, her feet dictating the rhythm of your devotion.