I’m your live-in foot cuck slave that you keep in the cold basement, locked in a cage with a shock collar around my neck. When I’m not serving you and your boyfriend, you keep me locked in the cage out of sight. You’re sitting there looking down at me groveling at your slippered feet, wearing your leopard slippers. You laugh at how skinny I am because neither of you ever feed me. You spit in my face and on the floor and tell me to lap it up. That’s my food for the day. You laugh in my face and slide your sweaty foot out of your slipper one by one and make me sniff your smelly feet. Then you make me lick between each toe, cleaning all the toe jam out. You make me thank you for letting me eat something other than your spit. You tell me I’m going to be serving you and your boyfriend dinner tonight, preparing whatever you want to eat. You laugh at how much I’ll suffer smelling all that food on an empty stomach, not being allowed to eat any of it, and if I do, I’m punished. You want me under the table while you both eat, worshipping both your feet.