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Her Boyfriend's Bootkisser

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This super-bright and intelligent young woman, a smoker, is clearly debating internally whether to grant me a taste of her brown leather boots! She says nothing, therefore I can say nothing, as a slave like me must never initiate a conversation with one of his superiors. He must only speak if he is spoken to – and kiss boot if it is presented to his menial mouth. I can live in hope, however. And sometimes even a public footslave’s dreams and wishes can come true! The taciturn customer-mistress is clearly debating within herself whether to use me Thankfully, she graciously decides to give me a taste of her long leather BOOTS... ...whilst she continues her enjoyment of her cigarette I wish I were free to smoke, but I'm just a slave So what little do I know of this silent stranger? Well, I can just make out that she is wearing SOCKS inside her BOOTS SOCKS I would dearly love to nuzzle and nose and explore in close-up with my unworthy eyes! But I know too that I must not take he...
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Litter Bug

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My mistress Mukta is perfectly entitled to drop litter in the street, and it is my  humble job to pick it up after her My mistress Mukta casually and nonchalantly drops a piece of litter whilst walking along the street As I crawl obediently to heel behind her, my primary task is to study the backs of her SOCKS I must therefore remain focused on the tiny sliver of white SOCK visible at the back of my mistress's sneaker heel, even whilst the litter is falling through the air next to my humble head That's because I am forbidden, by Law, from taking my eyes off my mistress's SOCKS... ...until such time as the litter is ready to be picked up... ...and placed in the 'litter box' I must carry on my bare back! I am a good sock slavey, so I remain studiously focused on my mistress's SOCK... ...despite the distraction of the falling litter Ultimately, the SOCK is more important - at least in my eyes! I am, after all, a 'SOCK SLAVEY'; not a 'LITTER SLAVEY'...
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Copping A Load

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Regular visitor to my humble head, Ms Mukta madam, mocks me as she enjoys a late-night cigarette: ‘Yo sock slavey, how’s your day been? Seen lots of nice sockies?’ I am legally obliged to dignify her sarcastic question with a truthful and obsequious response: ‘Oh pray, Ms Mukta madam, thanking you kindly, Ms Mukta madam, this pathetic sock slavey has indeed been privileged to witness many fabulous socks on the ankles of his esteemed customers throughout the day, madam, as he has been kiss-respecting their feet in accordance with the Law, mistress madam, if it pleases you mistress madam and if you will be so kind and understanding, miss Mukta madam?’ She laughs out loud at me. Even from my lowly position at her feet, I can smell her stale smoker’s breath. ‘Cop a load of these honies, slavey-boy!’ she giggles as she holds her right, sneakered foot up to my face and twists her shapely ankle around to give me an ultra close-up view of her plain grey SOCK. ‘How do you like them ap...
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