Rose reclined upon her velvet throne, one leg crossing languidly over the other. The slit of her gown parted just enough to reveal the sculpted perfection of her thighs, descending into calves carved like marble and ending in feet that radiated divine power. Every step she took was worship, every arch a prayer answered in flesh. Her legs were not merely beautiful — they were sacred, untouchable except by trembling lips.

“On your knees,” she whispered, her voice silk draped over steel. The command was law, and you obeyed instantly, crawling closer to the feet of your goddess. She extended one flawless foot, toes painted in shimmering rose-gold lacquer, and hovered it just above your lips. “Kiss them,” she ordered, her tone indulgent and merciless at once. “Show me what devotion feels like.”

Your lips met her arch, and her laugh spilled into the air, honeyed and cruel. “Yes… that’s it,” Rose purred, sliding her toes across your face, brushing your cheek like a caress and a claim. “These legs carry the weight of divinity. These feet are your altar. You will worship every inch, from ankle to toe, until your voice is hoarse with praise.”

Rose leaned back, eyes burning with radiant superiority, her smile a crown of pure dominance. “Devotion is never enough,” she declared. “You will worship endlessly, because I am your goddess, and my legs, my feet, are your salvation and your ruin.”