High Heel Dangle JOI

I’m sitting at the edge of My bed in a long black dress, wearing black and clear platform stilettos. The heels dangle loosely off My toes, swaying, teasing… and you’re already hard. You can’t look away from My soft ebony soles and that perfect arch. I make you stroke for Me, sometimes in sync with My heel, up, down, bounce, sway. Every word I speak trains you to associate pleasure with My dangling heels. Re-wiring your brain. Stroking doesn’t feel as good when it’s not for Me. Following My instructions. You edge to every sway, every instruction. You crave the heel slipping off, the glimpse of My wrinkled sole, the countdown that keeps you on the edge of ruin. This is where you belong. Stroking for My dangling heel like the good little foot-obsessed slave you are.