Femboy Foot Worship Novels & Stories

She had become a full futanari, a gorgeous, possessed cheerleader with both a throbbing futa cock and a hungry, squirting cunt. Asmodea’s voice roared triumphantly in her mind: *Yes! Feel that power, my little futa whore. Now you can fuck them too.* Emily’s eyes glowed bright crimson. She looked down at her brand-new, massive cock, rock-hard and twitching and laughed breathlessly, the sound dark and seductive. “Look what you boys did to me…” she moaned, wrapping one hand around her thick futa shaft and stroking it slowly, smearing the leaking precum. “I’ve got a big cock now. And I’m going to use it on every single one of you.”

Ava smirked for this girl didn't know what she was stepping into. Ava stepped closed and opened her legs, she held them and then thrust the dildo into her pussy, she screamed in pain and pleasure and her eyes rolled back for the pain was too much compared to the previous ones but she enjoyed it and asked her to keep going. Ava slowly started moving and when it was all in, she starting thrusting hard, Ray moaned louder and screamed her name. Ava was having fun too and wanted to keep going. She reached her limit but didn't ask her to stop and Ava kept doing harder. Her eyes rolled back and she felt dizzy, Ava was done, and as she stopped Ray fainted. Ava smiled and threw money on her before sh

I commanded, my voice leaving no room for disobedience. They scrambled to comply, forming a semicircle at my feet. I pointed to two of them, a blonde Irish girl and a brunette Slavic beauty. "You two, under my feet." They nodded, their eyes wide with excitement, and lay down on their backs. I stepped onto their soft, pillowy breasts, feeling their flesh yield beneath my feet. I curled my toes, relishing the sensation of their tits squishing around my arches.

I didn't sleep well all night, but she seemed to sleep soundly… "She said she liked four-leaf clovers, but the grass at the orphanage had been trampled bare. I cut the shape of a four-leaf clover out of a green plastic bottle and gave it to her. She was happy for days…" In the footage, Whitney's hands began to tremble uncontrollably. Her expression shifted from initial disdain to shock before her face paled completely. In disbelief, she flipped through the diary over and over, skimming the entries more than a dozen times.

Every thrust was accompanied by foot worship , kissing arches, sucking toes, licking between them. Sophia’s moans grew louder. “Don’t stop… I love how crazy my feet make you.” Marcus felt his climax building again. He pulled out and knelt between her legs once more. Sophia knew exactly what he needed. She sat up slightly, brought both feet together around his slick cock, and stroked him with purpose , faster now, soles gliding perfectly thanks to the oil and her own arousal. “Cum for me,” she whispered. “Cum all over my pretty feet. I want to feel it.”

As I stood there, I wondered why these girls were forced to wear heels when they didn't want to. Our eyes locked as she raised her head. She had thick lashes and eyes that were a stunning shade of forest gray. She was gorgeous. "She reminds me of an earthworm wiggling for dear life," Sophia said with a laugh. Fred replied, "That is rich coming from someone with a prosthetic leg," and I gasped at the violation before slapping him on the back of the head.

No matter how hard I tried to get her to do anything she never budged. Whenever I questioned how she could be so small and never work out she would respond with, 'I'm skinny fat'. The girl could eat more than entire football team and still never gain an ounce of fat. Something I was, and still am, severely jealous about. "Maybe try lifting some weights some time." At my words she just huffed. "I didn't come over to talk about boring stuff." "Then what did you want to talk about?" Thankfully the shop was pretty much empty beside the bride to be behind me. We had a few people walking around but didn't seem to need much help at the moment.

“See, the shoes give you the illusion of long legs. Men like long legs.” I tried not to sigh. “I just don't think it's a good idea.” “You'll be fine,” Sophie assured me. “And you look like a million bucks.” “Better than a million bucks,” Claudia disagreed. “You look like a princess.” A princess is exactly what I needed to look like. “Now, remember, you're going to have to dance in this,” Sophie told me. “And I can't have you hiking it up like some cowgirl. I need you to actually be good at this.”

They sing my song from the tops of the trees and shout it in valleys. Being sexy is a rite of passage. A sex god isn't born; it is made. Could I be turned into a sex goddess? Being sexy and desirable is not like me. Dancing and having people applaud my talent was remarkable. And being desired on a stage was amazing. God, I miss it. I miss practicing. I miss the shoes. I miss my feet hurting. I miss my feet buckling in pain. I miss it all. I miss it for old time's sake. Being sexy as a ballerina was like me, but to do it again is against the tomboy code. That is a hard path to choose. Being popular and sexy is not like me. God being a tomboy fucking sucks the big one. Whatever the big one is.

The following content contains the mature content of sexual intimacy. Read at your own risk or you can skip it. Demonte’s POV: As I placed her in the bed, I couldn’t help myself but lie just beside her and stare at her proportions. This girl was like a magic wand to me. She could transform me to someone I couldn’t even imagine. I reached out my hands to her face. Her wet hair was landing on her skin was proud and I wasn’t liking the vibes of it. I tucked her wet hair behind her ears as I brushed her cheeks.