Lytta's Revenge: A Shoejob and Cum Lick Edition
In the world of Lytta Queen Bb And Hotwife, Lytta Blond was renowned for her domineering nature and unwavering control over those around her. Today, she found herself in a particularly frustrated mood as she glared down at her pathetic bitch slave who had failed to raise her credit card limit fast enough.
"You call yourself a man?" she spat, her anger palpable. "I demand results, and you deliver failure! How dare you make me wait for my new pair of designer boots?"
The slave, cowering before her, pleaded for forgiveness, knowing full well the consequences of displeasing his mistress. Lytta's piercing glare softened slightly as an idea formed in her mind.
"Tell you what, bitch," she purred, her tone suddenly seductive. "If you make it up to me, I might just let you worship my feet from now on. And who knows," she added with a wicked grin, "maybe if you're lucky, I'll even let you lick your own cum off my soles."
The slave's face flushed with embarrassment and desire; despite the humiliation he would undoubtedly suffer, he couldn't resist the allure of his mistress's feet. And so, with a trembling hand, he promised to do anything she asked.
Dripping with anticipation, Lytta tensed her muscles and planted her size 8 Nike Air sneakers on the slave's chest, relishing in his discomfort as he struggled to breathe beneath her. She leaned down close to his ear and whispered, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine.
"That's a good boy," she purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, are you ready for your punishment?"
Without waiting for an answer, Lytta began to grind her sneakers against the slave's crotch, eliciting moans of pain mixed with arousal. As he grew harder beneath her feet, Lytta's smirk widened with satisfaction.
"See?" she taunted, her foot still pressed against his throbbing cock. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, you pathetic thing?"
Ignoring his pleas for mercy, Lytta continued to grind her sneakers against his most sensitive areas, relishing in the power she held over him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to the slave, Lytta pulled her foot away and stood up, revealing a wet spot on her sneaker where she had relieved herself of the slave's cum.
"Now," she said, her tone dangerously soft, "you get to clean up your own mess."
With trembling hands, the slave reached for the cum-covered sneaker and began to lick it clean, his tongue tracing every inch of Lytta's foot. As he did so, he felt a strange mix of shame and arousal coursing through his veins.
"That's it, bitch," Lytta purred, watching his every move with glee. "You're such a good little cocksucker."
And with that, Lytta Blond had turned her slave into her own personal foot slave, using his own desires against him to maintain control. She walked away, knowing full well that she held all the power in their twisted relationship.
