Peyton, clad in her casual Wednesday outfit, sat on the plush sofa in her living room. The day had been long, and she found herself wondering if her feet smelled as bad as they sometimes did. She kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs, the hem of her skirt riding up to expose her lacy black panties.
As she sat there lost in thought, an idea formed in her mind. She remembered seeing a video from Foot Fetish By Rootdawg25 featuring a slave worshipping feet - and not just any feet, but stinky feet! Peyton decided that she needed to know for herself if her feet were as stinky as she feared.
She summoned her male slave, a dumb blonde with drool constantly glistening on his chin. He shuffled into the room, wearing a collar and a leash. "Sit," Peyton commanded, pointing to the floor next to her.
The slave obeyed, his eyes focused on her feet. Peyton knew she had him right where she wanted him. She took a deep breath and wiggled her toes, giving off a slight waft of sweat and stink. "Smell," she said, leaning forward slightly.
The slave leaned in closer, his nose almost touching her foot. It was like watching a dog smell its master's hand. After a few seconds, the slave's face contorted into a mixture of disgust and delight. "It's so stinky!" he exclaimed, unable to contain himself.
Peyton laughed. She loved seeing the slave struggle with his emotions. "That's right," she said, "my feet are disgusting. But they also have an allure that you can't resist." She stood up, towering over him, and reached for the roll of duct tape on the coffee table.
In one swift move, she taped the slave's mouth shut, ensuring that he wouldn't be using his useless tongue on her stinky feet. She then sat back down on the sofa, crossing her legs once again. "Now," she said, leaning forward slightly, "worship my stinky feet."
The slave looked up at her, his eyes pleading for mercy. But he knew better than to disobey his mistress. He slowly crawled towards her feet, his hands trembling with anticipation. As he reached her feet, he began to sniff them again, his nose wrinkling in disgust. But then, something strange happened - he started to get aroused.
The more he sniffed, the more intoxicating the scent became. It was a sweet stench, one that was both revolting and irresistible. He kissed her feet, his lips brushing against her calloused heels. He massaged her arches, digging his fingers into her sweaty soles.
As he worshipped her stinky feet, Peyton felt a sense of power wash over her. She was in control, and the dumb slave was at her mercy. She watched as he became more and more lost in his devotion, his cock straining against his pants.
Finally, sated by his attention, she removed the tape from his mouth. "Thank you, slave," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You may go now."
The slave crawled away, his mind reeling from the experience. He wondered if he would be lucky enough to be called back to his mistress's feet again soon. As for Peyton, she sat on the sofa, savoring the memory of the sweet stench that had filled the room.
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