You’ve been such a hungry little perv for me… so I made you a cake. But you don’t get to eat it — you get to watch me destroy it. I step into it slowly, barefoot, feeling the frosting squelch between my toes, grinding it into the floor. Every inch of it crushed beneath my soft, dirty soles — the same ones you’d love to worship. Would you rather be the cake under my feet… or the mess I make after?