You want to worship me?
Cute.
But don’t you dare ask for my hand, baby.
You beg for the bottom of my heel.
Because that’s where you belong.
Beneath me. Beneath my stilettos. Beneath my attention.
You don’t earn Tiffany Love with kindness.
You earn me with desperation.
👠 You Don’t Want My Love—You Want My Cruelty
Let’s be honest…
You didn’t click this post because you’re a gentleman.
You clicked because you want to be broken in a way only a bad bitch in designer heels can do.
You want me to spit on your pride.
You want to feel small under something expensive.
You want to ache for a moment of praise after I’ve humiliated the last inch of your confidence.
And baby, I love that for you.
💋 Obedience Looks Good on Your Face
Do you know what makes me wet?
Not money.
Not muscles.
Not mediocre flattery.
Obedience.
That look in your eye when you realize I own your pleasure.
The whimper you let out when I lift my heel just enough to let you lick the bottom.
The silence when I say, “No. You don’t get to cum yet.”
You exist for one reason, and one reason only—
To be used, teased, and denied. Beautifully.
💄 So If You Want Me… You Know Where to Crawl
Tiffany Love doesn’t lower herself for anyone.
You rise to meet me—or you drop to the floor where you belong.
Now be a good little toy and say it with your chest:
“Please, Miss Tiffany, let me worship your heels.”
Good boy.
888-750-4746 EXT. 834
Professional Brat. Heel Worship Queen. Ego Assassin.
