
The unveiling was elicited with a gasp of reverence. Under the soft light, the glossy black polish gleamed as each perfectly polished toe offered an invitation to be adored. As he initiated the massage, his touch was akin to a well-rehearsed symphony. The gentle pressure and soothing strokes coaxed the day’s stress away as a melody of his touch plays upon my skin. Every sigh of contentment becomes his reward, a testament to his devotion as my foot servant. This is not merely a pampering ritual, but a silent language spoken through touch and devotion; a footboy worshiping a Goddess.
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