Nothing hits quite like watching a pathetic little foot addict crumble under My sweaty soles. Getting to sniff the scent straight off My worn shoes, tongue stuck out like a desperate mutt, face trampled flat while I use his body like the floor he is. That’s what real worship looks like. Some men aren’t born with purpose. They get stepped into it. And if you’re lucky enough to be under Me, you’ll learn exactly what it means to be owned, used, and humiliated where you belong... under My feet.