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Patiently you have waited for your owner to be crowned. Hastily, you fall to the ground offering the bare flesh of your back for your queen to step on to ascend to her throne. Humbled you bow your head, closing your eyes, quietly thanking your queen that she would allow you the privilege to be the human floor she walks on. Her heels sinking into your soft flesh ignite you; your beast locked in its cage dipping in delight fighting to break free of the metal bars. Fighting the need to look up at her; terrified of the powerful strike she will deliver lest you try to gaze on her beauty without invitation. Whimpering and begging like a starving dog, you plead with your queen that you be allowed the honor of cleaning her heels and feet of the filth left from stepping on her subjects.
Eagerly you have wandered through life in search of the one that inspires a lust in you so powerful that it pulls you to her, waking your soul. A woman emanating a superior aura so powerful that, before having met, you have already pledged your servitude.
The one so profound that pleasing her leaves you enamored and vibrating with life.
The thought of disappointing her leaves you terrified, frozen in fear.
Finally she is here. Blessed you are to be considered.