Published: July 6th 2025, 1:00:29 pm
9 Posesđ„
You see these socks?đ
Four days. No washing. No mercy.
Theyâve soaked in every step, every hour, every bit of heat and filth.
Youâve been watching, aching to see whatâs underneath.đ„
And now⊠you do.đđœ
I pull them off, slowly, deliberately.
One toe at a time, the fabric clings â and then releases.
And there they are: my soles.
Sweaty. Dirty. Unapologetically divine.đ„
You canât stop staring.đ©
Every crease, every speck of lint, every darkened patch â itâs not just dirt. Itâs your weakness.
The scent still clings in the air, thick, warm⊠and all yours to inhale.
Look closely.đ€
Would you dare kiss them?
Would you press your tongue right there, where my heel is blackened from walking over your worth?
These arenât just feet.đ«
These are tools of control.
These soles walked over floors⊠and now, they walk over your pride.
I flex them â and your breath hitches.
I stretch, curl, and you follow like a dog, desperate to serve.đ€
You dreamed of my socks.đ„”
But this⊠this is more.
Raw skin. Slick with sweat. Covered in power.
And you? Youâre trembling â because you know: this is where you belong.đđœ
You donât speak unless I allow it.
You donât touch unless I command it.
Youâre here to worship what others donât even get to see.
And when I press my bare sole to your faceâŠ
Youâll thank me.
Because this isnât pleasure.
Itâs punishment.đ
And youâre addicted to it.
Now beg, my little loser.
Beg to clean what you could never deserve.đźâđšđ„
Your mouth. My dirt.
Thatâs the only truth that matters.