I’ve talked to many men over the years who love those cute little tootsies, but can honestly say some have shocked me. I understand getting a foot job, blowing all over pretty toes, but stomping? Let me tell you about a friend of mine. She loves selling those feet pictures, but a few of the guys have stood out. One had her stomp on dead bugs, squishing them between her toes. I was there when she filmed the video and it was fully disgusting. I hate bugs, so even dead ones scare me to death. Another time it was flowers. Crushing a dozen red roses. Yes, he paid for them and the video. I wanted to ask who hurt him, but laughed too hard instead. Her giant feet obliterated those beautiful flowers. She’s a size 10, which is also a fetish I am told.

What about ticklish feet. I am so ticklish, and can barely make it through a pedicure without laughing. I remember one time the salon was full of people. All the chairs full. Sitting next to me was a man. Nothing odd about that. He did have really nice feet though. The woman who did my feet was new to me and didn’t know that I have very sensitive soles. She rubbed, I laughed, and we both looked over when that man started moaning. At one point I swear he came in his pants, but I stayed silent. God dammit, I don’t do that shit for free. From that day forward I made sure to get my pedicures in the private room. No pay, no play.

I will admit that I find wrinkled soles rubbing over a mans cock to be empowering. His manhood under my feet, one push can be either pleasure or pain. I am all for the pleasure though. Soft strokes, toes tickling the balls, and last but not least, a splattering cum shot all over my silky smooth feet. So what about you? Do you like feet, and if so, why? Leave me a comment or message me on niteflirt.

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Spoil The Goddess

The first thing a man should learn is that IT’S A WOMAN’S WORLD and we only allow him to live in it. A giantess of a woman has the ability to take, use, and destroy any man at any time. Can you imagine the uses that we have for you? We can tuck you in a pocket for safe keeping, or use you as a human dildo. You better hope she doesn’t squirt little one. You might drown in a see of pussy nectar. What a way to go. I can think of worse ways, but you know, they could be a little painful.

Are you ready for giantess play?

Picked up by the back of the neck, held up to my face for a better view. “Aww look at that little thing. I will need to use ALL of you to get off. Crawl inside and wiggle around. Spasm if you will. You better hope I don’t clench to hard when I cum and shoot you across the room. Make the giantess cum hard and I will lick your entire body clean. Held over my mouth, dropped in, hold on tight tiny man. I have been known to swallow more than spit.”

Gulp, just kidding. I am one Giantess that keeps her toys. Lined in a drawer all the little men who have crossed my path wait for another turn to please the Goddess. Each one praying I let them grow back to normal size, but in all reality, size is a fuck of the mind, not the body. I am one woman that when playing with, size does count. The smaller the better for me. Rest in my hand for a bit. I will whisper the rest of your life is to be a tiny puppet and I am the marionette that pulls your strings.

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Confession time. I am working on a new book about a newly formed world of Cum Harvesting Women. I will share some along the way with you all. Enjoy.

ONE – CUM HARVEST

Standing in the window, Gypsy watched the whole show unfold in front of her. A man on his knees holding a box out to the gasping woman in front of him. She could almost here the screams of happiness coming from the girl. Holding the coffee cup to her lips, she snickered into the warm fluid. In what should have been the happiest moment of someone’s life, Gypsy found humor.

“Oh God, the man of my dreams,” Gypsy laughed.

Cynical by nature, she knew that in time the woman would understand what would become of her. Another female lost to promises of a wonderful life. Granted, he looked well to do, but there was so much more to life. That’s why Gypsy started the Harvest. A secret society of women that travel the world to take the seed of potent men. If they were to make a change, the would need to create their own clan. Dominate women and sub-servant men. Breeding their own inhabitants to form the perfect world for female domination.

As she watched the man take his ring and place it on the woman, a sigh rolled from within. She would need to save this girl before anything else. Give her the life that she deserved. That’s how it all began. The day she decided to arm other females with the gift of grifting. To swindle something small without the owner knowing or worrying because to them, it was needless.

Without forethought, Gypsy placed the cup in the counter softly. She was on a mission to save this female. Sitting on her bed was the only thing she would need. A dress so tight that some would say it came from the contents of a spray can, a pair of pantyhose, and her trademark red stilettos. Five inches from the stem to the base, it allowed her already tall stature to almost resemble a Giantess. Most women didn’t realize the power behind those shoes. A feeble minded man will drop to his knees and beg to be crushed beneath them for her pleasure alone. When she was done every woman on the planet would own an exact replica of her own.

As she watched her transformation in the mirror, no respectful woman would leave the house without her lips being tainted with her scarlet letter. Crimson red applied, she smacked her lips together in a satisfied smirk. There was work to be done, and before that happy couple left, she could make sure the job was complete. Flouncing her hair with the tips of her fingers, she was ready, but was he? Did it really matter? Not to a woman like Gypsy.

The walk was short on that crispy Autumn day. Living across from a family own pumpkin patch had its advantages. As a people watcher she spent many days cackling at the happy families that forged their way through the place. Holding her hand out as she crossed the highway, cars can to a screeching halt, but the heat of the glares only fueled her fire. She was one of those women who had a stage presence no matter where she set up her show. A horn blew in the distance, but that didn’t effect the dark hair seductress. She simple turned, a placed a finger to her lips to silence the rage behind the female driver.

“Stupid bitch, I am here to help you. Shut your fucking mouth before I fuck your husband in front of you,” Gypsy whispered. No one could hear her but the woman, but then again, that was the only one who needed to know her fate.

With the highway now silent, Gypsy sauntered her way into the patch, nodding to the older female at the gate. She knew the truth about the Witch, but her lips would forever remained sealed. Her husband once a stout old man now sat on top of a tractor with his shoulders slumped as he pulled children through the corn fields. One sarcastic moment took away his manhood and left him an impotent little drone. Not that his wife cared. She now had the perfect husband. Obedient and caring to her every want and need. The way the world should be. It’s a woman’s world and one by one men will understand that their existence depends on their submission.

Some women get attention, and others, they command it. When Gypsy walked through the holiday filled courtyard, her pulse never wavered. A steady 66, she was as cool as a cucumber. Confidence is the biggest aphrodisiac a person can own.

Gypsy waited for the man to be alone. His fiancé now headed to wait in a line for the restroom, it was time to go fishing. Soft footfalls of her heels on the concrete, the male turned, watching at the stunning Goddess moved in for the kill. Not literally, but his balls would never be the same after a visit with her.

“Wow, damn girl, you look good,” he said.

Smirking, the whole thing couldn’t be easier. If a man was 30 minutes into being engaged, should he act like a horny teen on prom night? No, but this man was showing his intelligence the moment he opened his mouth.

“I do, and thank you. The name is Gypsy. You are?” she asked.

“The man of your dreams,” he spoke.

God, he was pushing the nails into that coffin with each word he lied. This one wouldn’t be just for fun. It was quickly becoming personal. His girl needed to know how easy a man could be led down a path of destruction, and when she milked him from every drop of his seed, Gypsy would open her eyes to the venom of the snake.

Fluttering her lashes like a school girl, Gypsy moved closer, her hand slowly moving to his testicles, squeezing lightly, “I thought you would say that. How about you come back to my place and show me how to be a real woman?”

With a gentle tug, the beautiful Goddess began the milking, but not to drain, not yet at least. His undivided attention was all she sought for the moment. Once she had that, there would be nothing left but to milk every drop of cum from his balls and own another unsuspecting soul. His fiancé would thank her later.

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