You think you worship feet, don’t you, little loser? Too bad for you, because you’re not allowed to touch My perfect soles yet. You will serve and adore his socks first, kneeling, sniffing, licking the evidence of his ownership while I laugh at how straight and pathetic you are for craving what you don’t deserve. How far will I push you before you break and beg for My feet? I’ll find out, and every humiliation will make you want them more.