ITALIAN SPEAKING Our slave stands among us, his gaze lost, his body already tense. He’s obsessed with pantyhose: we wear them for him soft, silky, sheer enveloping our feet and legs in a warm, glossy glow. We have him come closer. We make him sniff. His nose presses against the tips of our toes, against the soles, against our heels. He breathes deeply, trembling. Then the licks: slow, long, insistent, from the base of our toes to our ankles, as the silky fabric gets wet beneath his tongue. When he’s already lost in the moment, we give him a footjob. Our feet move over him, squeezing him, rubbing him, massaging him with slow, precise pressure. We keep going like this sniffs and licks alternating with the movement of our feet until he can no longer hold back and explodes for us.