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The Loser At My Feet
Down on your knees right where you belong. what a pathetic excuse for a man sitting beneath my chair drooling from just the sight of my ebony soles. such a little piece of existence. with every scrunch you get weaker. you'll get nothing from me but the quick flick of a middle finger and a perfectly formed in an l to remind you of your worth as i continue to ignore you. your thoughts now lost in my arches , as my legs cross your come in come to get a whiff of my goddess scent. your mine. without me having to say a word.
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