Spit, Stomp, and Suffer My Feet Own You

Look at you, groveling beneath me like the pathetic loser you are. My foot crashes down, dominating every inch of your worthless existence. You are nothing but my floor made to be stomped on, trampled, and humiliated. I sneer as I make you lick my sole, your tongue trembling, desperate for my approval. But that is not enough. I spit—right in your mouth because that is all you deserve to drink. You will swallow every drop like the obedient little thing you are, knowing my feet and my spit are the only things keeping you in your place.