Hey big spender, the house just informed me of your big win and sent me up here with a bottle of bubbly to celebrate! I can see you haven’t wasted any time enjoying your winnings. Why don’t you let me take a photo of you rolling around on your chips, it might turn out better than a selfie. And let me guess, you plan to share your winnings by visiting a strip club? Well, why don’t I take care of all of that for you. I’ll give you a little lap dance and take some snapshots of you in all your glory. Go on, finish up your drink for me and then I’ll putitty the chips in a safe place.
Bottoms up!
You aren’t looking so hot. In fact you aren’t looking good at all… why don’t you letitty me take those clips and puttity them where they are safe while you take a little rest.

What do you think it will take for me to unzip my already very sheer lacy top and show you my tits? What are you going to do for me in order to have an even more clear and unobstructed view? You love hearing me talk about what it actually takes to see my tits because it’s a reminder that you really don’t deserve to see them. Of course you really want to see them but deep down inside you know that it’s more than you can handle. You’d rather pay me any price to have me tease and then deny you. You love my tits but you can’t have my tits. So now you watch my daring tease, you watch me unzip this top and wiggle my body in front of your face knowing my tits could pop out at any moment.

And you know I have to charge extra for all the little nip slips. The underserving moments you yearn to pay more for.

Look at my filthy slippers and my beautiful feet. Growing your collection of my footwear to feel closer to me. You can sniff me, worship me, fantasize about me anytime. So here’s what you’re going to do. Take my slipper and take a nice, deep long whiff. Sniff me. Be my foot bitch.

Now take both slippers and put them into your face. Breathe me in and out as if my feet where really there and you had no other choice than to sniff my slippers. Tell me, how do I smell? And while you sniff me, stare at my meaty, wide, beautiful soles.

Sniff – Stare – Stroke

And the good footboy get’s his reward of my  cum countdown.

The cycle is unbreakable. You jerk off junkie, edge addict… goon goon gooning yourself until it’s impossible to control yourself any further, until you’re riding on my every word. Desperately waiting for my instructions because you are powerless to do it on your own.

Keep stroking for me. Pumping your leaking cock until I tell you to stop and I tell you take a break. Pushing your limits until you’re almost at your breaking point. So stupid and lost in my subspace, completely under my authority.

The foot boy is on his knees and eager to clean every last spec of dirt off my filthy feet. This isn’t about him jerking to my feet, it’s him being of service to me and cleaning me. I want to see my soles shine when he is done with them. Beg to clean my feet, I want to hear it. And you do realize this is something a little soap and water could fix but I am honoring you with the privilege of slowly and sensually sucking and licking each wrinkle, toe, and crevice clean.