It doesn’t matter how I stand, what I wear, or what mood I’m in. If my feet are present, your face belongs in them. For $11 you will press your lips to my wrinkled soles, bury your nose between those perfect toes, and learn exactly where you fit in my world. Worship is mandatory, and you’ll do it gladly.
I’ll watch you squirm and sniff, training you until every thought of equality is gone. Kneel, kiss, and accept that my feet are the only throne you deserve.