Crushed for a chance to worship
He was already crying before I even got started. Locked in the cockbox, his useless junk laid out for Me, and my pretty bare feet hovering right above it. I stepped down slow, letting him feel every ounce of pressure, his begging getting louder with each shift of my weight. Mercy? You don't get mercy. These are mine and I'll do whatever I want with them.
I stomped. Stepped. Shifted my weight from heel to toe, grinding his dick and balls into the box while he sobbed beneath me. Then I had a better idea. I slipped on my heels, the sharp points hovering over his most sensitive parts, and pressed down just enough to make him scream. Almost piercing. Almost breaking skin. Just enough to remind him how close I was to ruining him completely.
When I finally got bored, I sat back, stretched my legs out, and pointed my pretty feet at his tear-streaked face. Now worship them. Thank me for stepping on your pathetic junk. He kissed my soles like his life depended on it. Good boy.
Think you could handle my heels nearly piercing through your cock, or would you be crying before I even put them on?