Your card statement had a mysterious charge on it, and today you learn what it was for. We’re apart for the holidays, so I bought a little reminder of everything waiting for you: a stack of glass ornaments and a gorgeous pair of winter boots, paid for by you. Now I’m grinding those baubles under my heels one by one and telling you each one is your sack. Hear that crunch? One foot, barely trying. Then two feet, not even half of me, and it’s dust. If a pretty decoration can’t take that, a pathetic man doesn’t stand a chance. I’m a little hurt you didn’t rush over to kiss these boots and thank me for my excellent shopping on your dime. Maybe I’ll buy another pair out of spite. When you get home, you’ll be on your knees asking for your welcome-back ballbusting, worshipping my feet before, during and after. Nine minutes of crunching, findom gloating and anticipation.
🖤 Mistress Mercy Rage 🖤 Do you deserve my Mercy… or my Rage?
Your card statement had a mysterious charge on it, and today you learn what it was for. We’re apart for the holidays, so I bought a little reminder of everything waiting for you: a stack of glass ornaments and a gorgeous pair of winter boots, paid for by you. Now I’m grinding those baubles under my heels one by one and telling you each one is your sack. Hear that crunch? One foot, barely trying. Then two feet, not even half of me, and it’s dust. If a pretty decoration can’t take that, a pathetic man doesn’t stand a chance. I’m a little hurt you didn’t rush over to kiss these boots and thank me for my excellent shopping on your dime. Maybe I’ll buy another pair out of spite. When you get home, you’ll be on your knees asking for your welcome-back ballbusting, worshipping my feet before, during and after. Nine minutes of crunching, findom gloating and anticipation.