Loyalty isn’t requested, it’s demanded. My boots weren’t made to walk beside you, they were made to walk all over you. And like the good boy you are, you’re already on your knees exactly where you belong. You really thought you’d get to touch My boots? Cute. Losers don’t earn that privilege. Stay still, stay quiet, and know your place, below My feet and boots. Nobody gave you permission to speak, move, or even look up without approval. Pathetic, but at least you’re useful for entertainment. I’m done teasing you for now, go away and leave My boots alone
