With Valentine's Day just around the corner, I've decided it's time to lay it all out for you, to give you the unvarnished truth about what I really think of you. It's laughable to even imagine you had the slightest hope with someone like me. Look at yourself: short, overweight, and utterly unappealing—the embodiment of a loser. Your pathetic attempts to win my favor with gifts and money only served to highlight your desperation. I almost felt sorry for you, almost entertained the thought that beneath that grotesque exterior might lie something of value. But oh, how revoltingly mistaken I w...

With Valentine's Day just around the corner, I've decided it's time to lay it all out for you, to give you the unvarnished truth about what I really think of you. It's laughable to even imagine you had the slightest hope with someone like me. Look at yourself: short, overweight, and utterly unappealing—the embodiment of a loser. Your pathetic attempts to win my favor with gifts and money only served to highlight your desperation. I almost felt sorry for you, almost entertained the thought that beneath that grotesque exterior might lie something of value. But oh, how revoltingly mistaken I was. The moment I encountered the reality of what you're packing—or should I say, lacking—I was struck with sheer repulsion. Your dick, if it can even be called that, is the most pitiful excuse for manhood I've ever laid eyes on. In that instant, I knew your sole purpose in life was to serve as my foot slave and human ATM, nothing more.

So, let's get one thing straight: from now on, you're nothing but my personal foot wretch and financial plaything. Your existence will be dedicated to pampering and spoiling me, and maybe, just maybe, if you prove yourself worthy, I'll grace you with the chance to inhale the scent of my divine, sweaty heels. Prove your worth as my foot slave, and I might allow you the honor of worshipping my exquisite toes, decked out in luscious red polish. But don't forget, my nails are as sharp and unforgiving as my wit. Any misstep, any failure on your part, and you'll feel more than just the sting of my verbal lashings. Consider yourself warned, my little wallet drone. Your Valentine's Day will be spent groveling at my feet, a constant reminder of your place beneath me.