The House slaves Showcase their Foot Job Skills

Three slaves, six feet, one guy calling himself a bad-ass fucking midget. They slap that together and you get a foot-job session that burns hotter than anything The Upper Floor has put out. Two visitors get shown in. The girls kneel at the edge of the couch, wait to be told what to do, eyes low, skin already prickling with nerves. Tripod barks orders. The three girls fold into a line, faces buried between thighs, tongues working in a sloppy train while the visitors watch. When that’s finished he grabs a fat black marker, snaps the cap off with his teeth, and drags the wet tip over sin’s back and ass. He scrawls whatever filthy phrase pops into his head. Letters stretch across her skin, words turned into brands. Then the real show starts. Tripod lines the slaves up in front of him, spreads his legs, and feeds them one at a time to his cock with nothing but their feet. Black hair swings forward as each girl concentrates, soles wrapped tight, toes curling and sliding. He switches between them, cursing, hips jerking, until he decides where the finish line is. He pulls out, shoves sin onto her back, and stripes that same marked canvas with thick, hot ropes across the ink he just put there.