Overnight Suckwasher (ii)
True to her word, Ms Mukta comes back the following morning to collect her husband’s SOCKS that I have been suckwashing overnight inside my menial mouth. She puts them in a carrier bag and says she will let me know if her husband Simon (‘master Simon sir’ to me) is satisfied with their cleanliness (if he isn’t, I shall no doubt be WHIPPED!) She then mockingly says she hopes her ‘hubby’s SOCKS’ haven’t left a bad taste in my mouth? I humbly confirm to the mistress-madam that it was an honour for the likes of me to suckwash her magnificent husband-sir’s SOCKS, madam, and that any lingering taste of manly footsweat inside my mouth is a taste fit for a footslave like me. I apologise to her if my breath smells and ask her to thank her husband, my master Simon sir, for donating his DIRTY SOCKS to my mouth for overnight suck-cleaning. She laughs at me, has me kiss-respect her SNEAKERS, and heads off back to her apartment with her husband’s freshly suckwashed SOCKS. I humbly await my next ...