Kneel.
You’re in My presence now, even from afar. You feel it, don’t you? That deep, undeniable pull -- knowing you exist to serve, to send, to suffer for Me.
Of course, you do.
Because you were made for this.
The moment you hand over your money, you prove it. You don’t need control. In fact, you crave relinquishing it.
Remain kneeling.
Good boy.
Send now.
Each dollar is a kiss at My feet. Each tribute is another step toward the financial ruin you so desperately crave.
Mmm... Look at you.
So obedient, so weak for Me.
Again. Double it. You know my feet deserve it.
That’s right. The more you give, the closer you are to true submission.
Sink deeper to the floor.
Now, picture them -- My perfect feet, resting on your empty wallet. Imagine kissing the very soles that drain you.
Good pig. Empty yourself, so I can be full.
Keep sending.
Worship Me the only way you know how.













