We made him crawl for it. Hands behind his back, tongue out like the eager little pet he is. One by one, Electra Santiago, Misia the Witch, and Luna Law press their soles against his lips—daring him to worship them properly. He sniffs, licks, sucks… desperate for our approval, lost in the scent of leather, lotion, and total humiliation. We don’t stop. We don’t go easy. We press his face into our feet until he’s whimpering, drooling, dizzy with lust and shame. He’s not a man. He’s a fucking footrest. And we love using his face to clean every inch of our perfect feet.
