Imagine a world where the enchanting Miss Ruby has you wrapped around her perfectly manicured fingers. In this POV fantasy, you're c*mpletely under her spell, simping over her exquisite feet clad in lustrous bl*ck nylon stockings and in her signature bl*ck heels.

As the audio subtly mumbles, a chill runs down your spine, realizing the power she holds over you. 'What a f*cking surprise,' she purrs, her voice dripping with condescension. You've been caught, simping over Miss Ruby's perfect feet, haven't you?

She taunts you, knowing full well the financial ruin you've s*ffered at the altar of her footwear obsession. 'Does your girlfriend know how much of a f*cking loser you are?' she muses, her voice a husky whisper that's both a threat and a promise. 'You've spent so much on my shoes, my heels... and yet, here you are, begging for more.'

The tension is palpable as she leans in, her eyes locked onto yours. 'I wonder what she'd think if she knew how you drool over girls on the internet. You're a simp for feet and nylons, aren't you?' She chuckles, knowing the hold she has on you.

'Do you like my stripper heels? They match my outfits, don't they?' she teases, her voice a dangerous melody. 'Now, listen here. If you don't want me to tell her everything, you're going to do exactly as I f*cking say.'

Her demands are clear and non-negotiable. 'I want you to send me £100. That's £10 for every toe, and I have ten toes, so get sending.' Her threat is veiled, but the intent is clear. 'I'm going to tell her everything if you don't follow my simple instructions.'

She toys with you, her words laced with venom and power. 'Is that a boner? I see it. Are you getting hard because I threatened to tell your girlfriend how tiny your f*cking c*ck is as well?' she laughs, a sound that strikes both fear and arousal in your very core.

'We're going to spend the next minute in silence while you worship my feet. You don't deserve my perfect voice,' she asserts, her dominance over you undeniable. 'Would you like to c*m for my feet? Fine, send me another hundred, and maybe I'll let you remember.'

Her final demands are a testament to her control. 'You're buying my silence. You're paying for me to keep my mouth shut because it would be so embarrassing for me to send your girlfriend those pictures of you cumming for my feet... eating your c*m for my feet. Not to mention, I know where you work. Did you send? You have ten seconds to send before I'm going to tell your girlfriend everything.'

The countdown begins, her words a ticking time bomb. '10,9,8,7,6,5,4... Time's running out. I already have a lot of information on her. Good boys follow my instructions. Oh, look at you leaking. How embarrassing for you, wanting to c*m. How badly do you want to c*m? What would you give to c*m on my nylons and then l*ck it off?'

She sits back, her eyes gleaming with mischief and power. 'Start stroking while I ignore you. You're so predictable. I want to see how desperate you get. I want you to beg me to let you c*m. You don't deserve my perfect voice, but maybe, just maybe, if you're lucky, I'll let you c*m for my feet one more time.'

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