Your Face – My Foot Worshipper
You returned to worship my boots, but I had other plans for you. I laugh and stomp on your pitiful face, again and again. Every time you shrink back or beg, I get a laugh flash. No harsh commands, no roaring – just my pure pleasure in your pain. And at the end? I place my boots on your chest, clean them, and then spit in your helpless face. You came to serve. I came to enjoy
