She watched them approach, a intense Türk Mistress, her presence commanding. Her slaves knew their place, their submission a testament to her will. The air was thick with anticipation as she prepared their next lesson, a brutal display of dominance. Her gaze was fixed on their faces, expecting nothing less than complete obedience. The scat was not a punishment but a privilege, a test of their devotion to her every command. This was Afitap, the Turkish Mistress, training her latest acquisition. He had been late, and the punishment was swift and unapologetic. Her feet became his focus, a fetish he couldn't escape. The slave was eager to please, even in the most intimate of acts. His reward for loyalty was a face full of contempt. Sultan reveled in his complete and utter degradation. Her authority was absolute, her reign undeniable. The sight of her feet in his mouth was a forbidden ritual. His devotion, though extreme, was unwavering. SouzanHalabi left no doubt about who held the power. The chains were not just physical; they bound his very soul. Her Turkish domination was a sight to behold. He was hers, a toy to be used as she pleased. The turkishk was a testament to his ultimate submission. His journey into ecstasy was complete, under the watchful eye of his Turkish Mistress.