I am living, female god--thus my divine feet are regularly kissed and adored by the inferior gender. This lowly peasant reveres my feet as holy relics, professing his worship and groveling that I might show mercy. Removing my sandals as commanded, servant sinks deeper into enslavement from the scent of my godly soles, rubbing his lowly face in them, kissing every inch and further begging my forgiveness for being such a low life. It's pathetic, really... how the very lowest part of a female deity's body, the part that walks in the dirt, can turn mortal men into quivering puddles of submission, presenting their face that I might rest my god-feet upon. For now, continue worshiping your angelic owner's beautiful feet, knowing one day I will end your life with them.