It’s amusing how my partner never experiences this point of view, as he consistently remains on equal footing with me, while you are perpetually positioned beneath my pungent feet, wretch! I crave to sense you inhaling the fetid aroma of my post-workout feet, the only atmosphere you ever require to breathe. Simply a failure at my feet, executing whatever I command. The authority I possess over this weakling is incredibly thrilling– adoring my divine feet while blatantly showcasing in his face how my partner is granted the privilege to fondle my ample, firm breasts and penetrate my warm, tight, and damp sex…and foot slave is only permitted to inhale my feet. What a pitiful excuse for a man!