Foot Humiliation, Trampling and Latex

Lyla Storm pins her foot slave with a look that says he’s already nothing. She plants her shiny latex toes in his face and tells him to get to work on her heels. His tongue drags across patent leather, chasing every streak of dirt until the surface gleams. She peels the shoes off and flexes her feet; he buries his face in the smooth, tight latex that sheaths her calves, licking until the shine turns wet. Then the real pressure starts. She steps up, full weight on his chest, then on his cock, grinding her heel until his balls flatten under the ball of her foot. Every time he whimpers she laughs and makes him say thank you. She lifts one foot and presses the sole to his mouth. “Make it fuckable,” she orders. He wraps both hands around her latex-covered arch and pumps like it’s the only hole he’ll ever get, hips jerking, breath ragged. When he starts to shake, she yanks the foot away, slaps his cock with it, and tells him to hold still. Her fingers work fast between her thighs until hot squirt splashes across his stomach and drips down her instep. She lowers the dripping foot back to his lips. “Clean it.” He licks every drop, tongue sliding over warm latex while she moans above him. When she’s satisfied she steps off, shoves her shoes into the cage beside his head, and locks the door. The smell of leather and her sweat is all he gets until she decides to come back.