Apologising To Her Sock
My mistress Asma summons me to the living room where she is seated next to her 20-year-old daughter, Ms Fatima madam, on the sofa. ‘Slave!... Slave!... Come here!' I crawl on my hands and knees into the room, as befits a slave. ‘You summoned me, madam?’ ‘Kiss my daughter’s feet and apologise to her for her creased sock on her left ankle!’ ‘Yes, mistress madam. At once, mistress madam… Oh pray mistress Fatima madam, if it pleases you mistress Fatima madam, this slave begs your forgiveness for allowing your sock to become creased around your left ankle, miss?... Oh pray, miss?... Oh beg?’ ‘Now apologise to her SOCK, slave!’ ‘Yes, mistress madam. At once, mistress madam… Oh pray miss Fatima’s sock, madam, pray forgive this useless slave for allowing you to become all wonky and creased around your mistress’s ankle, mistress Ms Fatima’s glorious sock, madam?’ ‘Tcchh! Now straighten her sock for her, stupid slave!’ ‘Yes, mistress madam. At once, mistress madam.’ Ms Fati...