Weak and desperate, at the edge of my bed, praying for the slightest bit of my attention. A sad sack loser. Inches away from the most perfect goddess feet that you ache to serve and taste. A pathetic peasant like you knows this is his place. He shall never be more important to Goddess, more valuable, equal, just a horny desperate loser worshiping and serving only Misstress Tsarina on his knees, by her feet.
