Not An Angel - I trample her fingers 8 G

Not An Angel - I trample her fingers 8 G

Not An Angel's face contorted in pleasure as she stomped down on the helpless fingers, feeling them bend under her arch. The victim's pain was music to her ears, their desperate cries fueling her power trip. She leaned down, her breasts almost touching his face, and ground her foot into his hand more forcefully. "Not An Angel, huh?" she taunted, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. "You're not fooling anyone with that innocent act. I can see the filth in your eyes, the way your fingers tremble with need." With each passing moment, the trampled hand grew more and more discolored, swollen to twice its normal size. Not An Angel's heel dug deeper into the flesh with every twist, eliciting whimpers of agony from her victim. She loved watching him squirm, feeling the power she held over him. "Oh, and your fetish for feet? That's just pathetic." She chuckled, leaning down to run her tongue along the sole of one of her shoes. "You think these stinky soles are going to satisfy you?" But even as she spoke, she knew that deep down, her victim was getting off on this, that his fingers were twitching with anticipation for more. And anticipation was always the sweetest part. Not An Angel lifted her foot slowly, drawing out the torment, then slammed it back down hard, grinding her heel into the victim's hand. She could feel the bones grinding together under the pressure, and she smiled. This was what she lived for.