‌

You’ve done this before—sold every scrap of your comfort, every toy, every trace of control—just to see my toes curl while you obey. You know the rush of surrender, the ache that hits when I flex my perfect soles and tell you to start over.You’ll do it again, because you always do. Each dollar, each possession, each breath you give up feeds that delicious weakness for my feet and my power. You exist to serve, to spend, to spiral… until nothing’s left but devotion at my feet.