Look at you, helplessly transfixed by my feet, knowing you’re about to surrender again. I don’t need to raise my voice; a mere glance at my soles sends you spiraling into submission. As I flaunt what you’ll never touch, your place becomes clear—a servant to my desires. Each tribute you send is a testament to your devotion, a reminder of your role beneath me. Your purpose? To please and provide, nothing more.
