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Beneath Whips

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Every minute of every day I must kiss my female betters’ feet – and I must do so under the constant threat of their WHIPS! A good slave knows that the WHIP is never far from his back, and that it is better to KISS FEET than FEEL WHIP! In this Arab-Gynarchy household, the WHIP, in one form or another, is never  far from my BACK! Indeed, I live my entire lowly life beneath WHIPS! Thus my lips are never  far from my betters' SHOES And my eyes are forever close to their SOCKS! My female masters know that I live in fear of their WHIPS... ...and take delight  in that FEAR and the POWER over me afforded to them by their WHIPS! They also enjoy having their FEET KISSED, so for them it's a 'win-win'! All I know is that if I am KISSING FEET, I am much less likely to be FEELING WHIP! The WHIP, or the threat of it, thus determines everything  that I do! I submit to my masters and their WHIPS... ...like any good and sensible slave should!

Scantily-Clad Disregard

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I think it’s fair to say that this pretty customer-mistress is wearing minimalist clothing, including her ultra-short SOCKS, which, from my lowly perspective, are, of course, her most significant items of clothing! Mind you, it’s a baking hot day, so why wouldn’t she be scantily clad? She looks fabulous ! A fabulously scantily-clad young woman heads towards my public humble head I am gratified to see that her FEET are scantily clad also, in white SNEAKERS and SHORT SOCKS! The aforementioned SNEAKERS and SOCKS stop ultra-close to my face, as if daring me to defy them! Then the RIGHT SNEAKER is unceremoniously shoved onto my waiting, menial mouth! Swiftly followed by the LEFT I get a gratifyingly close view of the customer's SHORT SOCKTOPS... ...an intriguing GREY-BLUE combo! Her SNEAKERS are pristine and are almost dazzling in the bright, African-like sunshine But that doesn't stop them from smelling, and tasting, rubbery as they assail my footslave senses! Several times the...

Privileged To Praise Sock

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I consider myself to be incredibly lucky in that, unlike many of my public shoelick colleagues, I am permitted to verbally praise my customers’ SOCKS as I tongue-attend to their SHOES, providing they have first invited me to comment on their SOCKS. It’s an invitation I can never refuse! Hell, I am sometimes even ordered to touch their SOCKS, in order to straighten them around their ankles – though sadly not on this occasion! ‘Tell me what you like most about my SOCKS, slavey-boy?’ ‘You heard my pretty girlfriend, slave. Answer her question, and tell us what you admire most about her SOCKS!’ ‘Oh pray master sir, oh pray mistress madam, God bless you both and thanking you kindly for the opportunity to praise the mistress’s SOCKS, masters! Oh masters, truly the thing that this slave admires most about the mistress’s SOCKS are the CREASES in them, sirs. Oh the CREASES indicate that the mistress has been wearing these SOCKS inside her SHOES for some time, masters? And thus som...

Silent Sock Awe

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It’s a shame that I am a ‘dumb’ footslave – forbidden to talk – for, if I were permitted to speak, I would humbly praise all my customers’ SOCKS whilst I am lickshining their hardworking SHOES and BOOTS outside their office. I make a humble point of really studying their SOCKS in detail- SOCKS which are invariably revealed to me as they raise their foot-to-be-licked onto the concrete ledge in front of my face! But my SOCK-ADMIRATION must sadly remain silent, though I suspect my customers know I am in awe of their SOCKS? What slave wouldn’t be? She has every right to relax above me with a cigarette... ...after a hard day's work at the office... ...whilst I humbly tongue-shine her hardworking office SHOES below her... ...and take the humbling opportunity to silently study her SOCKS! Such a fabulous pair of hardworking and CREASED SOCKS! Every CREASE must be silently studied. Every individual STITCH in the SOCK admired! Other people, of course, going about their daily business, la...

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