Your place is down directly under my nylon foot.
You don't just see my foot, you see your destiny. In stocking-hose without a garter belt, I press you psychologically and physically to your knees. Unattainable. Divine. Turkish.
One glance is enough, and you know: Your lust won't help you. Only obedience. ...

Today, eyes were glued to my ass again. I'm leaving. You stay on your knees - as is proper.
