You drive your G Wagon, a display of the world you command. Its presence declares your power, your ambition. Yet, within its leather and steel, you consume three wings and fried rice. A stark, simple act. This is not about the grand gestures you present to the world. It is about the quiet moments, the profound shifts in control.
Your impressive vehicle, a symbol of your external authority, becomes the stage for a deeper truth. The humble meal, eaten at my unspoken command, reveals where true power resides. It is the moment your ego, so carefully constructed, gives way. The roar of your engine fades, replaced by the silent acknowledgment of what is mine.
Your dominion, your status, all of it aligns under my will. The G Wagon is yours to own, but the complete submission found in that simple act, under my guiding gaze, is the very core of what I demand. This is the shedding of your public armor, the embrace of a vulnerability I control. Obey this truth: even within your most guarded spaces, your surrender belongs to mine.
