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You really don’t even try to hide it, do you? The second I lift my foot and dangle this worn-out slipper in front of you, I can already see that desperate look in your eyes. It’s filthy, it’s been all over the floor, completely soaked in that stale, trapped smell and somehow that’s exactly what pulls you in. I laugh at you as I wave it closer, telling you to go on, take a deep breath. Really breathe it in. Let it fill your lungs, let it take over your senses, because I know that’s exactly what you’ve been craving. And just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, I give you a real treat. I slip it off and let you get a closer whiff of my actual foot, just so you can truly understand how bad it is. The heat, the scent, the pure nastiness of it, and yet there you are, completely hooked. I tease you for it, mock you for how easily you give in, how something so disgusting has you completely under my control. You should be ashamed, but instead you just keep sniffing, loving every second of it like that’s all you’re good for.