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Respecting The Dungeon Visitor

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On a visit to the Gynarchy dungeons, Ms Kow-Ling madam delights in having her boots kiss-respected by a recently whipped slave! Kow-towing to Ms Kow-Ling The dungeon slave knows he must show the utmost slavish respect towards his visitor's BOOTS! For he must be pleasing to her... ...if he is to avoid yet further stinging embrace from the dungeon-master's LASH! The BOOT or the LASH? Think long and hard about it, slave - for that is exactly what your dungeon master-sir is doing! His WHIP is coiled and ready to strike! The WHIP of a magnificent and mighty MAN! A man of STRENGTH and of POWER - a STRENGTH and POWER afforded to him by the WHIP! Shhe how your pretty visitor laughs at you... ...the hapless slave grovelling at her BOOTED FEET! But, as a slave, you know it is much better to KISS BOOT than FEEL WHIP!  
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Mistletoe And Whip

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On a cold and frosty Xmas Eve, master Simon sir and mistress Mukta madam kindly visit their permanent stocks slave in their back garden in order to give him a festive treat. Ms Mukta, who is wearing her festive socks, holds up a sprig of mistletoe above the slave’s humble, confined head to permit him to kiss her muddy boots. Meanwhile, master Simon has brought along the WHIP in order to paint some warming, festive stripes on the slave’s back, should they be required! Such a kind and thoughtful couple, yet all the hapless slave can do is selfishly beg the happy couple for mercy. Truly, he doesn’t deserve them! The stocks slave kisses his mistress's muddy boots below the mistletoe This is a great, festive honour for him! Meanwhile, master Simon sir has brought along his mighty WHIP, should it be needed... ...as the slave feverishly kisses the mistress's boots! Better to KISS BOOT than FEEL WHIP! I do hope the stocks slave appreciates all the effort the mistress has gone to... ....
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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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