My lovely feet photos

My new high heels are just perfect for worship. The open heel is just asking for my foot slave to stick his tongue under it and lick it gently. I haven't had time to fully dominate in them with my slave yet, the platform arevery high and I'm still getting used to the fact that I've grown by 10 centimeters. But as soon as I get used to them, my slave will have a hard trampling high heel session, he's already trembling with anticipation under my bed. I think it will be a difficult challenge for him, but no one asks him, my heels will go over his chest like a foot rug. Mmm, I'm waiting for his moans under my heels...

AndiPageDanicaLogan said:

Can we please see a pic in those without socks? Pleeeeeease?

Click to expand...

Of course, I didn't have time to take such photos this time, but I will definitely do so. I already have many plans for these high heels

My cute oily wrinkled soles with pink toenails. Feet look so sweet smeared with cream. Wrinkly pink soles and toes like candies with this cute pink toenail color. I am lying on the couch with my legs stretched out in your direction, so that my oiled feet are lying close to your face.

One rainy autumn day you were walking along an underground passage. It was damp and drizzling outside, so you wrapped yourself in a jacket and looked only at your feet and at the exit from the underground passage on the flattery you suddenly saw a beautiful nylon foot in jeans. It belonged to a charming stranger woman, who was standing on one leg on the stairs and trying to balance and shake something from her shoe. Seeing that you had turned your attention to her, she gently asked you: "Can you help me, please? I'm afraid of falling and some pebble got into my shoe and it's preventing me from walking. Could you shake it out of my sneaker and help me put my shoes on?" What a twist, you have long dreamed of touching the beautiful woman's feet, especially in nylons, but never found a suitable excuse and were afraid of being refused, and then the woman herself asks you about it. Squatting in front of her foot, you offered her to hold on to your shoulder. You slowly and with pleasure inhaled the aroma of her foot, she had obviously been on her feet for a long time today and her foot were a little sweaty and smelled simply amazing. Taking her sneaker, you inhale her delicious foot smell again, the double aroma portion of beautiful woman's foot and from her sneaker slightly intoxicated you. To be sure to get rid of any, even the smallest pebble in her shoe, you stuck your palm into her sneaker and carefully rummaged through the entire sneaker, shaking out everything that could be there. Then you slowly and gently ran your hand over her nylon sole several times to shake off all the debris and carefully put on the sneaker on her foot. The woman was obviously slightly embarrassed, quickly thanked you and ran off to do her business. You brought the hand that had just been in her sneaker to your face and inhaled the scent of her foot that remained on your hand, you slowly moved on, clearly deciding that in the next couple of days you would not wash this hand in order to preserve the scent of this sweet stranger woman's foot as long as possible.

I suggest you independently fantasize about what exactly is happening in this photo. It’s even interesting whether you can guess what happened in reality. Well, if you don’t want to guess, you can imagine next situation, that you come to a call (let’s say you are a courier or a plumber or whoever you want to be) and the door to the apartment of your call is open. You carefully enter inside, go to the kitchen and see a blonde in a short pink dress and panties kneeling in the corner in front of the kitchen set. Perhaps she is punished for something, or maybe not. What will your actions be?

I see how your mouth is watering, but be patient, if you want to lick my feet, you must obey me completely and unquestioningly

This photo straight from my work desk, I got my feet really dirty today while painting. And here I am, throwing my dirty soles on the table, and they even have pieces of stuck trash. You can imagine that your wet tongue gently and slowly touches my dirty heel and begins to slide along my foot right to my toes. All the pieces of trash stuck to my feet when they meet your tongue immediately fly straight into your mouth. You will not miss a single crumb by your mouth, so my feet will shine. I am just reading how my next subscriber is ready to lick and suck every millimeter of my feet and at the same moment I feel your wet tongue on my wrinkled solesm how it slides between my toes, oh yes, this excites me...

Let's fantasize. You work remotely and decided to go out for a quick bite and a coffee at a nearby cafe. You grab your laptop and head to your favorite cafe, your lovely spot opposite the window is just unoccupied, that's a luck. You order a snack and coffee from the waiter and immerse yourself in completing another task for your work. You are so carried away that you completely fail to notice how about an hour has already flown by. Looking up out the window, you suddenly notice a woman sitting right in front of you in a soft chair and staring at you. You absolutely did not notice how she came here and how long she has been looking at you. You turn around just in case, assuming that she is looking at someone behind you, but there's no one there. Seeing your surprise, the woman smiles playfully. She is wearing a short white blouse with a black tie that effectively highlights her boobs. Also a short black skirt and white cotton knee-highs, mmm. White knee-highs on women's legs always made you so weak. Suddenly she puts her feet right on the edge of your laptop screen and her soles are right in front of your face. With a slight delay, you realize that she has been sitting in front of you for some time without shoes and was clearly planning such a trick. Meanwhile, the mysterious stranger tells you in a languid voice: "I think it's time for you to take a break from your work and pay attention to my cute feet in white knee-highs. My feet have been waiting for you for a long time and need affection". With these words, she closes your laptop with her feet and puts her legs in knee-highs right on it, her soles literally a few centimeters from your face and smell so tasty. You are in slight shock. On the one hand, the stranger's behavior is quite provocative and impudent, but on the other hand, it turns you on incredibly and you really want to bury your face in her warm, cute feet in cotton knee socks right now. You are brought out of your stupor by an unexpected order in a raised voice from the stranger: "Immediately start kissing my feet!" You release your control over the situation and obey the order of your future Mistress, but you will find out a little later that she has chosen you as her slave and you no longer have a chance to refuse this fate, but for now you just enjoy her fragrant feet in soft, warm white knee socks...

Velvet, silk and the power of a beauty in white stockings

The red sofa is specially designed to give her magnificent curves. She lies on her stomach, stretching out her long, beautiful legs. The white stockings that tightly hug her feet shine exceptionally dazzlingly against the red upholstery of the sofa.

I sit on a low ottoman at her feet, mesmerized by every movement of her soles. The nylon on her heels is became worn out and this only increase a desire to touch, smell and lick it. Her toes move slowly, her feet rubbing against each other with lazy grace. The rustle of synthetic fibers - soft but distinct - makes my heart beat faster.

She does not look at me, but is completely immersed in reading the news feed on her phone. But the corner of her lips trembles slightly - she knows that I cannot take my eyes off her feet.

— Aren't you tired of glazing at my feet? — Her voice sounds mockingly innocent, but she doesn't stop slowly rubbing her feet beside my face.

I remain silent, only inhaling deeper the subtle scent of her skin, mixed with the barely perceptible aroma of nylon.

— Do you sniff them? — Her voice sounded much sharper.

I remained silent again.

— I asked you, do you sniff them? — her feet suddenly came closer, and the nylon pads lay on my lips.

— Yes... — I burst out hoarsely.

She laughed — low, almost purring. Her toes squeezed my chin, the stockings rustled like snakeskin.

— Do you like the way they smell? Tell me!

— Yes... — I was choking. — They smell... of you. Of perfume... and...

— And sweat? — she pressed her feet harder on my neck.

— And... nylon... — I moaned, pinned between her nylon feet.

She slowly held her foot on my face, leaving a sticky and sweet scent of her sweaty nylon feet.

— Well, since you like it so much... — she says, slowly drawing out each word. Her heels are now very close to my face, and I can see every smallest crease on the stockings. She deliberately slowly curling her feet, demonstrating how the nylon hugs her feet shapes.

— ...then you will continue to sit and sniff. And watch. — Her eyes sparkled. — And if you dare to touch without permission...

She abruptly pressed her foot against my chest.

— …I'll blindfold you, plug your nose and gag your mouth and then continue to rub my feet together right in front of your face, but you but you won't be able to enjoy them anymore...

I froze. My heart was pounding somewhere in my throat.

She smiled, pleased, and lay down on the sofa again.

—Good boy. Now sit still.

And I sat quietly. And breathed. And sniffed. And watched.

And she dominated me and I enjoyed that...

Her legs in black stockings lay on the table, like two divine relics sculpted from the night. The nylon soles, slightly damp from the warmth of her skin, smelled simply incredible. The miniature man froze, amazed by the scale and beauty of the Giantess's feet. He was only slightly larger than her big toe. He dared to come closer, right to the magnificent foot of the Goddess and touch it. She slightly wiggled her toes, and the nylon rustled. The sudden toes movement made the man fall on his back.

- How brave...

A voice fell upon him from above, booming and sweet. He froze.

- Did you think I couldn't see you?

Her foot slowly hanging over him. The nylon stretched, revealing the contours of her toes and that magnificent sight of her nylon sole hanging right above him was both frightening and mesmerizing at the same time.

- You should have asked for permission first.

He tried to say something, but at that moment her nylon sole came down - not pressing, just covering him like a blanket. Warm, tight, dark and sweaty fragrant.

- Now you're mine. My foot toy...

And the world narrowed to the scent of her skin, the whisper of nylon and quiet laughter somewhere high above. Her foot in a stocking pressed him to the surface of the table, at first lightly, like a whisper, then with increasing heaviness. She let him breathe. For now.

My fragrant nylon feet in white stockings raised high while I'm lie in empty bathtub. Stockings have slightly stretched at the heels, so that my tender feet skin shines through the white nylon. You feel this tart, sweetish aroma: a mixture of sweat, expensive stockings and feet skin. I'm slowly lower my soles to your face, the nylon rustling, caressing your ears. You gladly let my nylon feet tenderly touch your face and on your lips you feel the salty taste of my nylon feet, slightly sweaty for the whole day. And you start to kiss my feet, every millimeter, every fold of nylon soles and time stops while you selflessly cover my feet with kisses.

My heels click loudly on the parquet floor as I slowly approach the mirror. Black tights tightly hug every curve of my long legs and rustle so pleasantly when I move. The sharp heels of my shoes stops are right in front of your face. I catch your gaze in the reflection and my lips curl into a cold smile, because I know what is about to happen. And you seem to have already guessed and try to be so brave.

- Crawl under my feet and turn over on your back! - my voice cuts the air like a silk whip. - Quickly!

You are tied hand and foot, so you can only crawl like a worm on the carpet, to the place where a little torture by my feet awaits you. My heels are already eager to dig into your body.

- Closer!

You crawl under my feet and my high heels are on either side of your head. I put my foot on your shoulder and pressing lightly with the sole of my shoe, making you feel the weight and prepare a little for the real trampling.

- You dreamed about this, right? - I laugh, running my heel along your cheek, leaving a cold strip.

I put my foot on your chest, the stiletto immediately presses into your skin, but I haven't even begun to transfer the weight of my body onto you yet.

- Count to three!

1... You feel how my nylon feet are slightly sweaty, because I'm also a little nervous.
2... My heel begins to dig into your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt.
3... Arghhhh....

- Don't even think about screaming or starting to twitch!

I hear your muffled sigh and moan as my weight shifts completely to the leg on your chest. It only takes a two seconds for me to step my other leg on your body and slightly redistribute my weight, but I see how at that moment you are making every effort not to moan louder. It seems that it is not as easy to be a doormat under the Mistress in high heels as you thought in your fantasies? You hold your breath and strain every muscle to support my weight. I smile and begin to stomping on your chest, periodically deliberately shifting my body weight to the heels, driving them deeper into your body.

- So, do you still like being my doormat right now? - I lean towards you, shifting my body weight to the tip of my shoes, giving you a little respite and quietly whisper

- This is just warm-up, the real trampling is still ahead, do you think you can handle it?

You yourself begged me to make you my doormat, well, now your dream come true. My heels will not spare you and I will trample you until you start beg me to stop. And then... I will not stop, but will continue to trample you further until I myself get tired and decide that you have had enough. Because my doormat cannot tell me when to stomp on it and when not to, otherwise you are not a doormat.