You pay for My comfort, and that’s the sweetest part of this. My socks, My boots, every indulgence is a tribute to My lifestyle, and every tip lines My soles. The more you fund Me, the softer My feet get and the weaker you become, tripping over your own need to please Me.
Each photo, each clip of My feet relaxed while you bankroll My pleasure cements your place as My foot boy. I enjoy watching your wallet bleed while you get trained into worship, more desperate with every payment. Keep giving, and I’ll keep making you kneel until you’d die to be used by My feet.