
Pay Per Foot
This is what you were made for—funding Her lifestyle while you kneel in silence, desperate just to be near Her feet. From the passenger seat, your Spiritual Goddess stretches out luxuriously, shoes off, soles up, while you grovel below, breathing in Her scent like it’s the last thing you’ll ever earn. She doesn't even look at you half the time. Why would She? You're just a wallet with a nose. Every sniff is a privilege bought with your paychecks. And She knows you’ll keep paying. Because it’s all you’re good for.
