You're nothing more than a mere doormat, a forgettable foot slave sitting on the floor as your Mistress utterly ignores you. So boring, so insignificant, that I'd rather scroll through my phone than spare a glance in your direction. Meanwhile, my fresh, oiled feet are a feast for your eyes - I tantalizingly show off my soles, spreading and scrunching them, and then tease you with my toes, spreading and curling them in a slow, deliberate dance. You're left to worship in silence, gaze fixed on my divine feet as I indulge in my own little world, completely unaware of your existence.