Patheticus Minimus 3D

A master-sir uses me late at night. I afford him exactly the same degree of slavish respect as I would any mistress-madam, which is boundless! A master-sir approaches me in the dead of night He stops to look down upon me 'Kiss my feet, boy!' This master-sir knows his own mind and expects to be obeyed by a lowly public footservant! Therefore obedience, and boundless respect, is what he gets! I particularly admire his SOCK... ...peeking out from the top of his BOOT! Likewise, when he switches his booted feet in front of my face, I admire his other SOCK Kissing BOOTS and admiring SOCKS. That's pretty much all I do, day in and day out; night after night! No wonder my customers hold me in contempt! I'm, literally, a piece of garbage at their FEET! The master-sir continues on his manly way, without saying another word to me And rightly so, for other than being ordered and bossed around, I am not worthy of being spoken to I'm just a slave And a sockieboy one, at that!

A sock slavey’s humble existence is, quite rightly, dominated by SOCKS – the SOCKS of his mistress and the SOCKS of others. Here we see one such sock slavey accompanying his mistress out on the street. When she stops to talk to a male friend, the slavey must silently and unobtrusively kneel with his humble head in between his mistress’s socked ankles, looking at and studying with sockslaveyish awe and reverence the feet and SOCKS of the man opposite whom she is talking to. Later, when his mistress barks the relevant order down at him, the sock slavey must respectfully kiss her interlocutor’s feet, again with a demeanour of awe and reverence for the superior man’s SOCKS, as befits a humble and awestruck sock slavey! Haha, what a pathetic and contemptible existence the humble sock slavey leads – a lowly life faced with SOCKS, the SOCKS of his BETTERS! The pathetic sock slavey's place is with his humble head in between his mistress's SOCKED ANKLES... ...whilst she converses ...

Late at night in the suburbs, Ms Mukta madam has brought along her friend and neighbour George (‘master George sir’ to me) to visit me in the wonky stocks at the bottom of her back garden, as he has told her he likes whipping slaves and he has therefore brought along his WHIP in order to ‘size up’ my bony old back! Ms Mukta thinks it’s funny that master George sir wants to WHIP me. But neither I nor master George sir think it’s funny. Indeed, he is deadly serious about potentially applying the WHIP to my back and is well known around these parts for his skill and dexterity with the fearsome implement! For my humble part, I tremble in fear and trepidation beneath him whilst I am feverishly kiss-respecting his friend, my mistress Mukta’s, sneakers! It is, I believe, my only hope of receiving clemency – being pleasing to my mistress Mukta madam. That way she might , possibly, intercede with master George sir on my humble behalf? Meanwhile, her other next-door neighbour, Ms Andrea ma...