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You’re here for my feet, aren’t you? You want to see them, stroke for them, maybe even lose control the second I stretch and flex my soles just for you. But that’s not how this works. You don’t just get to see my bare feet, you have to earn it. And right now? I’m keeping them tucked inside my sexy black boots. I know the sight of them drives you crazy, the fabric hugging my ankles, the thought of what’s hiding underneath, making you squirm. I tease you with every little movement, crossing my legs, and every time you think I might slip one off, I stop. You’re going to have to prove you deserve it first. So let’s start. Some slow edging. Keep your hands right there, but don’t even think about finishing. And now… a little CBT. A few hard slaps, some rubber band snaps, just like I tell you. You’re doing this for me, because you know what’s coming if you behave. I keep the rhythm steady, my voice low and seductive, keeping you locked into every word, every movement, every second of anticipation. Finally, when I decide you’ve earned it, I slide those boots off. Slowly. Teasingly. And there they are, my bare feet, right in front of you. Now you can stroke. Now you can worship. But only because I said so. And next time? I might make you work even harder.