You don’t get to decide when or how.
When I tell you to drop and sniff my sweaty, stinking socked feet, you do it. Immediately. Face buried. Deep breaths. No hesitation.
This is your new reality now. Every single day. The second I want it, you’re on the floor where you belong, a pathetic little foot bitch serving my dirty socks.
You’re not my equal. You’re not even close. You’re below me. And you’re going to prove it every fucking day.
Now get in there and sniff, pig. 🐽🧦
The fag had learned what its Boss wanted with just a look from Him. The one time it tried to not service His sweaty stinking socked feet when it was commanded to, it was locked two stories under the building in a cage and bound and gagged with the Boss' sweaty stinking over the calf socks. After a long hungry lonely weekend of that, the fag worshiped his Boss' stinking socked feet anytime he gave him "the look." Which was everyday.
Ich mache es euch heute ganz einfach.😈
Tag sinnvoll starten, auf den Throne-Link gehen und mir einen Kaffee schicken.
Keine Diskussion. Kein Zögern.
Danach bedankt ihr euch brav dafür, dass ihr euren Morgen wenigstens einmal sinnvoll genutzt habt.
☕👇
https://t.co/wdeToLIvvn