I have a lot to do, I come home in the evening but I still have to work on the PC: I make myself comfortable on the sofa, take off my shoes and place my feet on my slave. I read, type, and send emails, and below me in silence, the footstool slave offers his face for the rest and comfort of his Goddess. I don't pay attention to him, it's as if he wasn't there, he's just an inanimate piece of furniture and he's finally made himself useful for something.
Only for the last days of April