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Common-or-Garden Footslave (iii)

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Even the common-or-garden’s regular customers barely acknowledge him, other than to have him kiss their feet. Take the young woman using him now. She stops every evening on her jog along the pathway, but she never speaks to him because he’s a nothing and a nobody. In fact, he only recognises her from her feet, though he realises that she is a somebody, and certainly better than him! Unlike him, she’s not just a number (he is common public pathway footslave no. 674329B, not that anyone is interested!) The familiar footwear of a regular jogger pounds towards the common-or-garden footslave along the pathway As per usual, the RUNNING SHOES and SOCKS stop for a breather The slave must kiss them... ...in a manner befitting a common footslave showing slavish respect for the feet of his better! He admires the creases in the young woman's bright red RUNNING SOCKS She kindly gives him a taste of BOTH her RUNNING SHOES... ...whilst she drinks from her refreshing bottle of water. She won...
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Common-or-Garden Footslave (ii)

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Several hours later, the common-or-garden footslave encounters his next pair of passing feet – this time the SOCKS and SANDALS of a, somewhat portly, gentleman master-sir.  Not exactly the slave’s favourite footwear combination to have to kiss-respect, but, pathetic old fool that he is, he is still grateful for the SANDAL and SOCK company!  The common-or-garden footslave has no  say over which type of feet present themselves to his menial mouth A pair of portly male feet, clad in SANDALS and SOCKS, stop in front of him The RIGHT SOCK and SANDAL is then presented to his menial mouth The slave humbly kisses the man's SOCKED TOES I wonder if they smell as fragrant as the sweet-smelling lavender that surrounds them? The man doesn't care if his FEET and SOCKS smell He just wants them kiss-respected by the common-or-garden footslave, as he is entitled to do! Without even acknowledging the slave at his feet, the man moves on... ...leaving the slave feeling bereft, once aga...
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Common-or-Garden Footslave

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On a lonely pathway, surrounded by other weeds, a public-pathway footslave is used by an ambler, and then promptly forgotten about. And rightly so, for he's just a common-or-garden footslave! A woman out ambling in the countryside encounters a lonely pathway-footslave She stops in front of him - not to pity him, but to mock him She then (kindly) uses him... ...giving him his first taste of ambler's BOOT that day! The pathetic old slave kisses the female BOOT enthusiastically... ...for this may well be the humble highlight of his lonely day! He looks up admiringly at the female SOCK This, you see, may be his only female company all day. All week, even! The smell of musty, female sheepskin BOOT... ...and the sight of plain, grey female SOCKTOP! The sights, smells and tastes of BOOTS and SOCKS - his lowly life! Sadly for him, the BOOTS and SOCKS soon continue on their journey... ...leaving him behind in the DIRT! He bows his humble head in shame... ...as he realises he is not wort...
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Stop Whining, Slave!

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Ms Mukta and her husband relax beneath the shade of their garden awning, which they have deliberately placed in front of the wonkly stocks in which they keep their back-garden slavey permanently imprisoned - just so that he can observe their SHOES and SOCKS from his lowly vantage point whilst they enjoy their refreshing glasses of wine seated on high above him. No whining, slave! Just be grateful that your betters have deigned to be in your lowly presence, albeit in order to add  to your sense of discomfort and humiliation! Ms Mukta has her back to the wretched slave in the stocks as she converses happily with her husband... ...over a glass of wine The old slavey in the stocks, meanwhile, can only see his betters' SHOES and SOCKS The SHOES and SOCKS of his master sir, who designed and built the set of deliberately wonky stocks... ...and, more particularly, for they are closer to his confined face, the SHOES and SOCKS of his mistress! All the pathetic old slavey can literally see fr...
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