The air in the room crackled with anticipation, a palpable tension that only Mistress could conjure. She sat perched upon her throne, a simple yet elegant chair that somehow radiated power, her bare feet dangling seductively. I knelt before her, breathless and eager to serve.
"You know why you're here," she purred, her voice a silken whip. Her gaze held mine, a potent cocktail of dominance and desire. I swallowed, the taste of anticipation metallic on my tongue.
She gestured with one elegantly arched foot, and my hands moved instinctively, grasping my throbbing member. This was it. The *femdom sex* ritual I craved. No gentle caresses here. This was about control, about submission, about the raw power she wielded with those beautiful feet.
I began to stroke myself, the rhythm slow and deliberate at first, building the tension. Her eyes never left mine. Then, she shifted slightly, and her toes grazed my wrist. A jolt of electricity surged through me. This was her game, and I was her willing puppet.
"Faster," she commanded, her voice a low growl. "Show me your devotion."
The pace increased, my breathing ragged. The *footgirls* energy was intoxicating, feeding my desperate need for validation. I focused on her feet, the soft curve of her instep, the delicate arch, the perfectly painted toenails. Each detail a testament to her power.
She leaned forward, her breath warm on my ear. "Imagine," she whispered, "what I could do with these." Her words were a spark, igniting a fire in my loins. The *kink* inside me was unleashed.
My strokes became frantic, bordering on desperate. I was so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion. Then, she pressed her foot firmly against my hand, her toes curling around my shaft. The sensation was exquisite, agonizing, perfect.
With a final surge, I erupted, my release a violent, primal roar. I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air, my body trembling. I'd submitted to the perfect *dominatrix handjob*.
She smiled, a slow, knowing smile. "Good boy," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "Now, clean up your mess."
As I crawled to obey, I knew one thing for sure: I was utterly and completely hers. I was her *domina milking* slave and I would come back for more.
