








As you worship my feet, you'll whisper sweet nothings, begging for my permission to continue, pleading for the opportunity to serve me further. You'll offer yourself to me, body and soul, vowing to do my bidding, to obey my every command, and to surrender to my every whim.
And when you're done, when you've exhausted yourself in your worship, you'll remain at my feet, humbled, grateful, and eager to serve me again. You'll know that you're nothing but a lowly slave, unworthy of my attention, yet grateful for the privilege of serving me.
Now, get to it, slave. Worship my feet, and don't disappoint me.