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You strut around your like you’re untouchable — suits tailored, bank account bloated, ego inflated. You sneer at the “little people,” convinced no one could ever dominate you. But guess what, step-daddy? I grew taller than skyscrapers. Your entire world fits in my high heels. And right now, you’re nothing but a speck — a wriggling, insignificant little man squirming in the curve of my palm. You scream about mergers and power moves? Adorable. I flex one finger and your spine bends with it. You brag about being "the alpha"? Let me show you what real dominance feels like — when every breath you take is at my mercy. You wanted to be worshipped? Fine. Now worship me. Kiss my skin. Lick the oils off my fingertips. Call me Goddess. Queen. Owner. Do you finally understand how small you are, baby? Or should I close my fist… and really show you humility?