Victor Varenzo, Slave to My Hands… and My Feet - english version

Description: He should have known i would play with him.the moment i told him i was going to the nail salon, victor varenzo felt an uncontrollable desire rise within him. he knew i was up to something, that it wasn’t innocent. but what he didn’t know was how far i was going to push his torment…i let him choose my manicure, and unsurprisingly, he picked a classic french—white and refined. he wanted my hands to capture his gaze with every movement, to become an obsession he could no longer ignore. but when he tried to ask about my pedicure, i stopped him cold.-that’s none of your concern.he understood immediately. i wanted him to lose his mind. to drive him insane.that evening, he found me sitting on the bed, legs crossed, dressed in black lingerie and high leather heels—both elegant and indecent. i saw his hungry eyes immediately drop to my feet, trying to guess my pedicure, hidden beneath my stilettos. he wanted to know. he needed to know. but i was determined to make him wait.he stepped closer, feverish, his body already tense with desire. i started teasing him through his pants, keeping my hands perfectly visible so he could admire every movement of the flawless french tips he had chosen himself. he was on edge, his erection betraying his impatience. so, slowly, i lowered his pants and guided him against my thighs, letting his hard sex rub against my skin. but he wanted more. much more.gradually, i pulled down my lingerie, freeing one breast, holding it just before him, my perfectly manicured fingers framing the soft flesh. i knew it obsessed him. and i indulged in it.but he was still trapped in his pants. a problem i resolved with a playful yet cruel gesture, sliding the pointed tip of my stiletto under the fabric to rid him of it. i knew what he wanted. he dreamed of my feet. he wanted to see them, touch them, worship them… but i wasn’t in a hurry.i let him rub himself against my shoes, watching him lose control, imagining what awaited him. he knelt before me, his hard length brushing against the cool, smooth material of my heels. i saw him tremble. so i slowly turned my foot around him, barely grazing him, teasing him over and over again.then, finally, with a slow and theatrical gesture, i removed my shoe.he held his breath. his eyes locked onto my perfectly polished toes.deep, intense red.his heart pounded. his cock pulsed violently. he was on the brink of explosion just from seeing my feet.so i caressed him with the tips of my warm, soft toes, letting him feel their delicate touch on his throbbing length. he was already moaning, completely surrendered to my feet and my expert hand. but i wouldn’t grant him his pleasure so easily.with a slow, calculated movement, i brought my hand to my mouth, wetting my fingers with saliva before resuming his torment, sliding his burning shaft between my feet and my damp hand. he was ready to come.but i denied him that right.i let go, straightening up with a cruel smile.-sit on the bed.disappointed, frustrated, but obedient, he complied.i slid between his legs, spat onto his hardened sex, then took him firmly in hand. he didn’t last long. his orgasm erupted against my breast, dripping down my skin as he panted, spent, trembling.i let my fingers play with his release, spreading it slowly over my chest, savoring every drop.but him, drained, could only think of one thing—my red pedicure, the obsession that had just been born within him.-so, victor… still under my spell?mlle ophéline delambre