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Happy Gynarchy Household

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A truly superb young woman orders her boyfriend’s elderly male houseslave to pick up the dirty shoes that she just been wearing on her socked feet from the floor and take them to the shoe cupboard, much to her beloved boyfriend’s pleasure and approval. He is so immensely proud of his pretty girlfriend and the way she treats his slave, forever giving him menial tasks to perform! For his humble part, the slave is foolishly proud to be of service to his master’s beautiful girlfriend, and he obeys her barked order with slavish alacrity because the WHIP is seemingly never far from her sweet feminine hand, or indeed from his bony old back, in this happy Gynarchy household! 'Pick up them shoes, slave... . ..and put them in the shoe cupboard... ...and be quick about it, slave!' The kneeling slave's humbling view of his mistress's USED, SWEATY SHOES in his hands His equally humbling view of her SOCKED FEET And if he focuses in on the SOCKS he can even make out the individual...

Wedding Gift

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 An African man proudly gives his new wife the gift of a slave: ‘This weak and feeble old man is your slave, my dear! He is your property and you must treat him anyway you please. Slap him, kick him, beat him as you please! Here, I also give you this WHIP with which to beat him! Make him do everything for you. If your shoes are dirty, make him clean them. If your socks are wonky, make him straighten them for you. You ned do nothing for yourself any more, as you have your slave to do it for you! Now order him to kiss your feet, so that he can see that you are his new owner and that he must obey you!’ The master-sir’s lovely wife wastes no time in exerting her POWER and AUTHORITY over her very own SLAVE: ‘You heard my husband, slave. Kiss my feet, or I will beat you. Kiss me on the SHOE and then straighten the SOCK!’ ‘Yes, mistress madam. At once, mistress madam. I am your slave to command, mistress.’ ‘Kiss my wife’s shoe very well, slave, or you will soon wear the STING of...

New Rule For The Sock Slavey

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This evening, my mistress Mukta is in a bad mood, as is her perfect right, and she is taking out her female anger and frustrations on me, her personal sock slavey – again, as is her perfect right. She has angrily placed me in the wonky stocks (built by her husband, my master Simon sir) at the back of her garden for the night, and as I must kiss her boots in front of her aforementioned beloved husband and her best friend, Ms Arabella madam, Ms Mukta huffily explains to me that she is ‘sick and tired’ of my ‘uppitiness’ towards her and her friends, and at my alleged ‘disrespect’ for their SOCKS, which, she rightly points out is ‘totally unbecoming’ in a wretched sock slavey like me! I have to say, although I remain slavishly silent, Ms Mukta would be entirely correct in her criticisms of me, were they true! But the reality is I have nothing but the utmost respect for all my betters’ SOCKS – which means the SOCKS of everyone whom I encounter during the course of my lowly life! Neve...

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