Worship at the Clown Altar. Revere my gorgeous long legs, my big clown feet, and the erotic hold I have over you that lures you closer and closer into the Circus. You're mine, strudel. You're just a writhing, pulsing ache of lust stroking yourself into oblivion for my legs and feet. Nothing matters except this rush. Nothing matters except serving my clowny beauty. Stroke, noodle. Stroke yourself in tribute to my beauty.