Mistress Ludovica Luxury - LUDOVICA LUXURY- 10 FEET FOR MOUTH TRAINING -mobile

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Mistress Ludovica Luxury - LUDOVICA LUXURY- 10 FEET FOR MOUTH TRAINING -mobile

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LUDOVICA LUXURY- 10 FEET FOR MOUTH TRAINING -mobile

The sun beat down on the terrace, its warmth caressing the skin of five mistresses as they sat in their thrones by an outdoor table. Their slave knelt naked before them, his face already inches from their bare feet that dangled lazily above him. "Guess the sizes, puppy," Mistress Ludovica Luxury commanded, brushing her toes against his lips.

"Smallest to biggest: 36, 37, 39, 40, 41," she said, challenging him. He trembled, his breathing heavy against her sole. "The 36... that's her?" he asked, nodding towards the mistress on her right. She smirked, sliding her perfect, small toes straight between his lips and pushing them slowly but surely until they hit the back of his throat.

"Correct," she acknowledged, withdrawing her foot with a long string of drool dripping from his chin. "Next," another of the mistresses purred, already half-choking him. He coughed out, "37..."

"Exactly," she agreed, ramming her whole foot into his mouth with one brutal push. Face-fucking him hard and deep, she left him gasping for air as tears rolled down his cheeks onto the fake grass beneath him.

The third mistress rubbed her sweaty sole all over his face for a full minute, making him sniff, lick, beg. "Guess," he managed to choke out.

"39..." she said, her voice low and threatening.

"Good boy," she praised before thrusting her foot violently into his gaping maw, throat-fucking him without mercy. He was sobbing now, his mouth ruined, as she choked him, let him gasp for half a second, then slammed back in, deeper and harder.

Last came the biggest mistress, the one who had been waiting for this moment. "41..." he managed to force through his tears and blood.

"Padrona..." he pleaded, knowing what was coming.

She grabbed the back of his head with both hands and buried her massive foot to the root, throat-fucking him with slow, powerful strokes. She choked him, let him gasp for air, then slammed back in, deeper, harder. When she finally stopped, order was gone. Chaos reigned: feet everywhere, two, three at once crammed into his gaping, ruined mouth, blocking his nose, crushing his tongue, face-fucking him without mercy.

The fake grass beneath him was soaked with spit, tears, and sweat as Mistress Ludovica Luxury dragged her size 40, dripping with his own drool, across his cheek in a mocking little caress. "You got every single one right, puppy," she said, laughing softly. "We'd have destroyed that throat anyway."

And all five mistresses burst out laughing while he stayed there on his knees, utterly wrecked, breathing nothing but the taste of their feet.

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