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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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Lovers Of The Whip

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 My magnificent master-sir utters the words I dread the most: ‘Slave, fetch the WHIP!’ I kiss his BOOTS, whilst fearfully acknowledging my slavish obedience to his dreaded command! ‘Yes, master sir. At once, master sir. Please don’t beat me, sir?’ His pretty girlfriend laughs and rubs her hands with undisguised glee, for she knows how much my master-sir loves to whip me! And she loves watching him whip me: ‘Don’t spare him, Harold. Whip him! He’s just our slave! Show him who’s boss. Make him wear the STING of your LASH!’ I grovel before my magnificent master-sir in the presence of his lovely girlfriend ‘Slave, fetch the WHIP!’ If there's one thing I've learnt as a slave, it's the importance of always kissing one's masters' BOOTS! ‘Don’t spare him, Harold. Whip him!...   ...He’s just our slave!...  ...Show him who’s boss... ...Make him wear the  STING  of your LASH!’ The mistress's BOOTS - creased up with excitement and laughter at me! The maste...
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She Doesn't Care

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‘Shine my shoes, slave!’ All this customer-mistress, quite rightly, cares about is the state of her shoes. She doesn’t care about: The state of my slave tongue What her shoes taste like The fact that she isn’t wearing socks The fact that I am permanently and uncomfortably immured in this wall Likewise, my only concern is to do a good job on her shoes, and to thus avoid the sting of the municipal authority’s lash!  Stern and aloof, this middle-aged customer mistress only cares about one thing... ...namely, the state of her SHOES! And rightly so, for the wellbeing of her SHOES is more important than the wellbeing of my TONGUE! I'm just a SLAVE! I am obliged to look directly at her VEINY FOOTSKIN... ...as the esteemed customer-mistress isn't wearing any SOCKS or STOCKINGS I am reminded that every BLEMISH in her FEET is worth more than me! Her SHOES taste VILE... ...as SHOES always do! But it is a vile taste I am accustomed to... ...after years  of humbly lickshining...
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For The Avoidance Of Doubt (And The Whip!)

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My Arab mistress, Ms Noor madam, makes damn sure I show appropriate slavish respect and obedience to her 20-year-old niece, Ms Fatima madam, when the latter is visiting her from university: ‘Slave, you obey guest. You obey Ms Fatima madam. Ms Fatima say: ‘Slave kiss feet’, same second you kiss Ms Fatima feet. Ms Fatima say: ‘Slave straighten sock’, same second you straighten Ms Fatima sock. Ms Fatima say, ‘Slave fetch WHIP’, same second you fetch Ms Fatima WHIP. Always you obey Ms Fatima madam. She your master!’ ‘Yes, Ms Noor madam. I will be a good slave to your niece, Ms Fatima madam. Please don’t beat me, masters!’ To reinforce my slavish obedience towards Ms Fatima madam, and for the avoidance of doubt (and the WHIP!), I simultaneously crawl forwards and kiss her visiting SNEAKERED FEET! My mistress Noor explains that her beloved niece, Ms Fatima madam, is to be my new master in this household... ...during her sojourn from university! I obediently and submissively crawl forwa...
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