|I crave seeing you on your knees with your forehead pressed on the floor. I crave having you like that, unable to see or feel my feet: you just know they're there, probably hanging lazy above your head while I stay crosefeet on my chair. And this makes you boil harder than ever.|
You are not allowed to move till I say so, and certainly you are not allowed to speak. This is prayer time. It's the time of the day you focus only on me, on how I give meaning to you and how grateful you are to belong to me.
When I see fit, I will pick up your leash and raise your head, allowing you enjoy the view while slowly filling your mouth with my toes. You are suuuch a good boy.
Come now, I want you to praise me and adore me. You may approach.