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Convenient Gathering Point

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On the sink estate, late at night, a group of superb young women gather round my humble head for a smoke and a chat. Not with me , of course; I am not fit to converse with them. I’m just a convenient gathering point (‘Let’s meet up by the humble head!’ ) In truth, I am fit only to look them in their SOCKS! No, they are chatting with one another about their respective boyfriends and tastes in men – not that their conversation is any of my damn business! I shouldn’t even be thinking of them above their SOCKS. I’m just a slave! The three superb young women have gathered round me for a smoke and a catch-up with one another The young, white woman standing directly in front of me with her back to me... ...is wearing grey sneakers with a yellow star logo, and short, white SNEAKER-SOCKS I humbly study the STITCHING in the BACKS of her SOCKS I am acutely aware that her SOCKS are better than me... ...and that I am not fit to even think  of her above the SOCKS! Meanwhile, her prtetty, bla...
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Non-Relationships

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My only relationship with bright young women is as their public footslave – kissing their FEET or licking their SHOES or BOOTS. Sadly, they are also all too fleeting relationships, since they have boyfriends or husbands to go to. I don’t even get to know most of my esteemed customers’ names; just the taste and smell of their BOOTS! An extremely bright and beautiful young woman of the Gynarchy ambles nonchalantly towards me; cigarette in one hand, phone in the other Although she stops for a lick and a shine of her brown leather boots, she doesn't even bother to acknowledge me... ...getting stright into a conversation on her phone with what sounds like a female friend! The customer-mistress's phone conversation is, of course, none of my damn business! Nor should it be any concern of mine that she is casually flicking her hot cigarette ash down onto my humble head! What matters - all  that matters - is the shininess of her BOOTS For her BOOTS are better than me! As are her SOCKS, ...
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No Inhibitions

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Even quiet and unassuming women, who wouldn’t normally say boo to a goose, have no inhibitions whatsoever about using me to have their boots or shoes kiss-respected. That’s because they know I am just a slave and that they are better than me. A casually-dressed young woman approaches me on her own at night She stops directly in front of me in order to look down upon me, both literally and figuratively 'Kiss my boot, slave!' 'And don't look up at my sock!' This is a somewhat unusual stipulation by a customer. Normally the instruction is not to look at them above  the sock But this demure and modest young woman regards even her SOCKS as being too good for me! She's right, of course. I am not worthy to look her in the SOCK... ...though she needn't woory. If I were to look her in the SOCK, I would do so humbly and admiringly... ...and with a sense of slavish awe... ... since it is the SOCK of my infinite better, being the SOCK of a beautiful asnd intelligent you...
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