Miss Dula - FULL MOVIE It's lost for my feet

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Miss Dula - FULL MOVIE It's lost for my feet

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FULL MOVIE It's lost for my feet

As Miss Dula strolled down the cobbled street, her heels clacking against the pavement, she couldn't help but feel a pang of excitement. It had been too long since she'd graced this town with her presence, and her slave was eagerly awaiting her return. His pathetic attempts at pleasing her had been pitiful, but they only fueled her anticipation for what was to come.



Her feet were covered in a fine layer of dust, and she couldn't resist grinding her heel into it as she approached her home. The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted out from within, an offering from her loyal maid. However, Miss Dula had no intention of indulging in such trivialities; she had work to do.



Stepping over the threshold, she kicked off her shoes and reveled in the sensation of her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the trembling figure kneeling before her. He looked up at her, pleading with his eyes, but she gave him nothing but a cold stare.



"You know why I'm here," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. He nodded, his eyes darting to the floor as he tried to contain his nervousness. "Good," she purred, her gaze fixed on him as she began to unbutton her skirt.



As the fabric fell away, revealing her shapely legs covered in sheer nylon, he couldn't help but gasp. His mouth watered at the sight of her, and he could feel his cock throbbing in anticipation. She stepped closer, towering over him, and traced her index finger along the arch of her foot.



"Tell me," she whispered, "what do you love most about me?" He swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. "Speak up, slave," she growled, leaning down closer. "Say it."



"Your feet," he stammered. She smiled, revealing a set of perfectly aligned, pearly white teeth. "That's right," she purred, "and they're about to earn their keep."



With that, she lifted her foot and placed it gently on his shoulder, pressing down with just enough force to make him flinch. "You're such a good footstool," she cooed, running her fingers through his hair. "Now, do your best to clean these feet of mine."



As he began to lick and suckle at her feet, Miss Dula watched with satisfaction. She loved the power she held over him, the way he worshipped her every inch. And when she felt he had paid enough homage, she removed her foot from his face and placed it firmly in his throat.



"There's your reward, slave," she chuckled, watching as he gagged on the scent of her sweaty feet. "Now, go back to work."



And so he did, spending the rest of his time at her feet, cleaning and adoring them as she watched on with a smug grin. Miss Dula knew this was only the beginning, but for now, she was content to bask in the worship of her devout follower.

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