You walk to your throne and as you sit upon it, your arms resting on either side of it, the high back of the chair framing your body like a painting, you feel yourself poised and sitting tall for your audience. Your lowly pit crawls on all fours across the floor to you, their head down, eyes averted. As they kneel before you, you take your foot and lift their chin so they meet your eyes. You smile, seeing their adoration as you sit like the majestic Royal that you are, then tell them to take a tabletop position in front of you, hold still for as long as you require, and you put your feet on their back as they become your footstool.
