The Story of Patheticus and the Three Pairs of Boots

Once upon a time, in the Gynarchy of Barbaria, there was a runaway footslave by the name of Patheticus Minimus.

He had not run away from his mistress because she was unkind and cruel to him; or because she was not beautiful; or because he did not admire his mistress’s feet and footwear.

No, Patheticus had run away because he was stupid. He was just a stupid, ignorant footslave. He should perhaps have been more aptly named ‘Thickicus’ – ‘Thickicus Maximus’.

And now, because he had run away from the security and warmth of his mistress’s feet, he was feeling frightened, anxious and lonely. He was also tired and hungry.

In the depths of the forest he happened upon a house. There did not appear to be anyone inside, and so he crawled inside the house through the front door which had been left ajar.

Patheticus had been a footslave for so long he could only crawl on all fours, and was now incapable of walking upright like a free man.

He made his way into the kitchen where he could smell three plates of leftover food. The plates were lying in the sink, waiting to be washed. He reached up and pulled down the first plate onto the kitchen floor.

It contained the remains of some half-chewed fruit. The fruit still looked bright and colourful, but when he tasted it all the goodness and flavour had already been sucked out of it by someone – it was much too bland.

He then pulled down the second plate. It contained some cold and greasy leftover chips. He tried one of them, but hungry though he was, he could not manage to swallow it – it was much too greasy and unappetizing.

The third plate contained some left over curry. Although it was cold, it tasted nice and spicy, so he licked the plate clean. It was just right!

His footslave nose then detected the aroma of dirty, feminine hosiery. He crawled over to a laundry basket that was lying beside the washing machine. It contained three pairs of dirty, feminine hosiery.

The first pair was a pair of finest denier, dark, nylon tights. The toe and heel ends of the tights were darker and thicker than the rest of the nylon tights as they were reinforced with extra nylon. He pulled the tights out of the laundry basket and sniffed the toe ends in order to establish the sweatiest, dirtiest parts, before inserting them into his footslave mouth in order to suck on them. Patheticus was already missing the familiar taste of his erstwhile mistress’s footsweat, and so he sucked hard on the dirty, unwashed, nylon tights in order to savour the fullness of the salty, feminine footsweat they contained.

He sucked on both reinforced toe-ends of the dark-coloured nylon tights for some 10 minutes, but he found the tights awkward to get into his mouth – they were too long, and kept getting tangled up beneath him as he knelt on the cold kitchen floor.

The second pair of feminine hosiery was a pair of thick, black, woolly, calf-length bootsocks. They looked well worn, with many little black balls of woolly sock-lint on the sole and heel areas. They did not smell as sweaty as the nylon tights, and nor did they taste nearly as sweaty when he sucked on them. He even turned them inside out in order to try to get at more of the delicate, feminine footsweat, but the socks were just too thick and black for him to be able to see any sweat stains, or to detect where the saltiest and cheesiest parts were.

The third pair of feminine hosiery was a pair of short, white, cotton sneaker-style socks with a fetching, pink trim. Unlike the thick, black bootsocks, the pink and white sneaker-socks were very sweaty and smelly, and had clearly visible, yellowy-brown sweat-stains running all along the insteps. They fitted perfectly into his footslave mouth and tasted divine, for he could feel the sweat, along with little pieces of sweet, feminine toejam and soft, white sock lint, slithering down his throat.

These feminine socks were just right – and so he sucked on them until they were nice and clean.

His highly-trained, male-footslave eye then spotted three pairs of female boots in the far corner of the kitchen waiting to be polished.

The first pair was a pair of ultra-stylish, brown leather, knee-length, pull-on, riding boots with flat heels. From a distance they already looked perfectly shiny and clean, but close up he could see several little traces of mud and dirt along the soles and lower sides of the boots. He assiduously licked the brown-leather-boot mud from the bottoms of the boot soles, before running his now dirty footslave-tongue up the smooth, brown leather to the very tops of the boots. He then sniffed the insides of the boots through the tops. He could smell the distinctive aroma of warm, recently worn, inner boot lining, but the boots were too tall for him to be able to get his nose deep inside and down to the sweatiest parts.

The second pair of feminine boots was a pair of bright red, calf-length cowboy boots, with fancy stitching on the outsides. They also had pointy, metal toecaps and low, blocky heels. The red leather of the boots contained lots of tiny creases and dirt and dust had accumulated in much of the fancy, red stitching. He used his tongue to extract the dirt from the fancy stitching of the female cowboy boots, but when he sniffed inside the tops of the boots he couldn’t detect the aroma of sweat at all! Just musty, cowboy-boot leather. The girl who wore these fancy, red boots must not have very sweaty feet!

Pity!

The third pair of boots were a sweet pair of short, feminine, black-leather, zip-up, ankle-length boots with rounded toes and two-inch-high, blocky heels. The ankle boots were evidently well-worn and scuff marked – especially around the fronts of the toe areas. He did his best to remove the grey scuff marks with his footslave tongue, but no matter how hard he licked at the rounded toes of the feminine-sized boots, the scuff marks returned just as soon as his saliva had dried off them.

Nevertheless, he liked licking these ankle-length boots, for he was able to bury his nose deep inside the lining of the short boots as he did so, and he could both clearly see, and smell, the sweat-stained, whitish inner lining of the black leather ankle boots as he licked on their outsides. These boots were just right! He therefore spent a full hour doing his level best to tongue-shine these pretty, black ankle boots, and, apart from the indelible scuff marks on the toes, the sweaty, well-worn, ankle boots were soon looking almost as good as new!

Suddenly he heard female laughter and giggling female voices outside the house. He crawled over to the far end of the kitchen and hid beneath a wooden table that was covered in a table cloth.

From underneath the table cloth he observed three pairs of pretty, feminine feet and legs entering the kitchen – all of them quite dirty from having been walking in the woods outside.

All three girls, who looked to be in their early to mid twenties, walked over to the table, beneath which he was hiding on his hands and knees, in order to put down their shopping, and so slave Patheticus had a good, close-up view of their pretty feet and footwear.

The first pair of feet were clad in a pair of bright green, shiny, high-heeled pumps and tan-coloured nylon stockings, beneath a pair of smart, black slacks. The girl was tall, and had blonde, curly hair. Her stiletto-heeled, shiny green shoes were caked in mud around the base of the heel and all along the lower insteps. He also noticed a tiny ladder in her tan-coloured stocking just below her shapely, outer, right ankle bone.

The second girl was black, and slightly podgy in build. She was wearing a pair of soft, flat black leather ballet flats, with black socks and black denim jeans. Both her black shoes, and the somewhat frayed hems of her black denim jeans, were splattered with mud from the wood, and he also noticed several creases in the cotton material of her plain black socks. He guessed they were a pair of normal-length ankle socks, as the tops of her black socks disappeared up into her black jeans.

The third girl was much more petite than the other two, and was wearing a pair of dirty, scuffed, pink and white, lace-up sneakers and short, plain white sneaker-socks - the elasticated tops of which were only just visible above the tops of her grey-white sneakers. She too was wearing jeans – but hers were dark blue, and the hems of her jeans did not quite reach the tops of her socks, meaning that he could see some soft, brown Asian footflesh in the gap between her socks and jeans.

As he knelt at their feet under the table, the runaway footslave Patheticus was in a bit of a dilemma, for all his footslave instincts were compelling him to lean forward and kiss the feet and footwear of the three superior young women who were now in his presence, and yet he had to remain hidden – for he was an uninvited intruder into their home! If they detected him, they would be sure to turn him in to the Female Police.

The penalty for runaway footslaves was life in the foothole!

So he restrained himself, and remained shtum!

The three, young women, however - being young, free and female - were at liberty to talk, and were happily discussing amongst themselves the relative merits of the various items of clothing they had just bought for themselves in the town.

Suddenly that tall, blonde curly-haired girl with the bright green stilettos cried out in shock as she espied the three plates lying on the kitchen floor next to the sink where the stupid Patheticus had left them:

‘Someone’s been eating the remains of my fruit!’ she exclaimed incredulously.

‘Ha! Ha! And someone’s been nibbling at my leftover chips!’ exclaimed the black girl in the soft black ballet flats and matching black socks.

‘Ha! Ha! And someone is being licking up all the leftover curry from my plate, and they have been licking my plate all clean, isn’t it?’ exclaimed the Asian girl with the dirty, pink and white, lace-up sneakers and fetching, short, white sneaker socks.

The tall, blonde, curly-haired girl then spotted the dirty items of feminine hosiery lying on the kitchen floor beside the laundry basket, where the stupid slave Patheticus had left them:

‘Someone’s been sucking on my dark nylon tights!’ she exclaimed. ‘Look! The reinforced toe-ends are all damp and crusty!’

‘Ha! Ha! And someone’s been sucking on my thick, black bootsocks!’ exclaimed the black girl with the black ballet flats. ‘Look! They’ve been turned inside out!’

‘Ha! Ha! And someone is being sucking on my dirty pink and white sneaker socks, isn’t it? Look! They are being all white and clean now!’ exclaimed the pretty, brown-skinned Asian girl.

The tall, blonde girl’s eye was then caught by the sight of the three pairs of boots, lying discarded in the far corner of the kitchen where the stupid slave Patheticus had left them:

‘Look! Someone’s been polishing my brown leather, riding boots!’ she exclaimed.’ All the mud has been removed from the soles and uppers!’

‘Ha! Ha! And someone’s been tongue-shining my red cowboy boots!’ exclaimed the black girl. ‘Look, you can still see some traces of saliva in the fancy stitching!’

‘Ha! Ha! And someone is being licking my black ankle-boots!’ exclaimed the pretty, petite Asian girl. ‘And they are now being sparkling and shining!’

At that moment the tall, blonde girl bent down to pull up the table cloth and she saw slave Patheticus cringing at her pretty, green-stilettoed feet under the table!

She cried out in shock:

‘Oh! Look girls! There’s a slave hiding under the table! Quick, call the Female Police!’

Slave Patheticus’s slavish instincts for slave-preservation immediately kicked in, and he threw himself on the mercy of, and at the green-stilettoed feet of, the tall, blonde, curly-haired mistress who was standing over him:

‘Oh pray mistress…oh pray…please have mercy on this runaway slave mistress…oh pray…please don’t report this dirty slave to the Female Police mistress…this footslave is your footslave, sweet feminine mistress…oh pray mistress…oh pray!’ and with that the pathetic, runaway footslave showered dozens of respectful kisses onto the pointy, mud-splattered toes of the blonde, curly-haired mistress’s green stiletto shoes, admiring the tiny ladder on the side of the tan-coloured stocking on her right foot as he did so.

‘Ha! Ha! Don’t worry, Goldilocks! I think the slave likes you…doesn’t look like he poses any threat to us! He’s just a raggedy-assed, down-in-the-dirt runaway footslave! Ha! Ha! What a loser! What a lamebrain!’ laughed the black girl.

Patheticus, the lamebrain loser, thought it was somewhat ironic, in all the circumstances, that the blonde girl whose green-stilettoed feet he was now feverishly kissing, was nicknamed ‘Goldilocks’!

But with or without a sense of irony, he continued kissing the mud-splattered, pointy toes of her stylish, bright green stilettos.

‘Ha! Ha! Move over and let him kiss my feet! I want to see if his tongue can do as good a job on my black ballet flats as it did on my red cowboy boots!’ continued the black girl, and with that slave Patheticus found the smart green stilettos and tan-coloured nylon stockings under his mouth suddenly replaced by the soft, black ballet flats and matching black socks of the somewhat podgy, and seemingly unshakeable, black girl:

‘Give them a nice tongue-shine, slave… lick off all the mud and dirt! I wanna see my face in them!’ she ordered.

Slave Patheticus - experienced, if somewhat reprobate, footslave that he was - knew full well that no amount of licking could bring the soft, matt leather of the black girl’s sweet, feminine ballet flats to a ‘shine’, but he was nevertheless quite prepared to die trying, as he was keen to have a close-up view of the numerous creases and folds in the plain, young black woman’s plain, black, cotton ankle socks.

He even made so bold as to brush his nose against the creases in her socks as he obediently ‘tongue-shined’ her ballet flats, and, fortunately for him, the black, female owner and wearer of the socks didn’t seem to mind his impertinence. In fact, she seemed to revel in it, sighing pleasurably at the feel of the dirty footslave’s nose rubbing against the tops of her creased socks.

Slave Patheticus already liked this black mistress very much. She had already persuaded mistress ‘Goldilocks’ not to call the Female Police, and was now letting him nose her black socks and tongue-shine her black shoes – whilst she was still wearing them!

Soon, however, the petite Asian mistress – the young woman whose tastes he shared most in both food and footwear – emboldened no doubt by the actions and words of her black housemate, stepped forward in order to have her sneakered feet kissed:

‘Ha! Ha! Slave, be kissing my feet also! Be kissing the toes of my dirty sneakers and be licking the dirt off the sides…Do not be touching the tops of my socks with your nose…you must only be looking at my socks and must not be touching them!’

Even though this Asian mistress was denying him what the black mistress had so graciously permitted him – the feel of her socks on his nose – Patheticus could not help but fall in love with the feet and footwear of the petite, soft-brown-skinned, Asian girl.

She was truly everything he yearned for in a mistress: gentle, yet firm; petite in stature, yet seeming like a veritable giantess when standing imperiously above him, hands on shapely Asian hips, with her right foot assertively outstretched before her waiting to be kissed and honoured. And oh those pretty, dirty-white laced-up sneakers and sweet, white sneaker socks! Sometimes denial is better than fulfilment – and the fact that the pretty, Asian mistress was denying him the touch of her socks on his nose only made them all the more alluring to him! He could look but not touch!

And so he did look. He focussed in on the elasticated tops of her short white sneaker socks as he kissed the flaky and scuffed toes of her pink and white sneakers, and licked the forest-mud stains off the pink and white sides. At one point her foot muscles flexed causing the top of her white sock to momentarily crease ever so slightly just above the area of the sneaker he happened to be licking, and slave Patheticus truly felt like he had died and gone to heaven – footslave heaven.

The young Asian woman was clearly pleased with his slavish self-denial, and his evident respect and admiration for her dirty footwear:

‘Ha! Ha! I am thinking that we should be keeping this dirty slaveman as our household footslave. He can be keeping clean all our dirty boots and socks. We can be making him our dirty footwipe, and it will not be costing us any money, as he can be eating our scraps like a dirty pig, as he has been doing this morning while we were being out shopping, isn’t it?’

Her two housemates signalled their agreement, and so the three young women kept the runaway male footslave as their own – and they all lived happily ever after.

Or at least until they eventually turned him over to the Female Police!

The End