The Slave-Spotter
Marielle was a ‘slave-spotter’.
It was her hobby – going around the Gynarchy and observing male slaves hard at work; recording their demeaning and degrading chores in her slave-spotter notebook, and just generally revelling in the fact that whilst she was a free woman – free to live her life and pursue her interests exactly as she pleased in the female-dominated Gynarchy - the male slaves she observed had no choice as to how they spent their miserable time.
Indeed, she positively celebrated the fact that the male slaves she observed, by definition, unlike her, didn’t have any ‘free’ time. They were, after all, in bondage. They were not free; they were slaves – obliged to work 24/7; 365 days a year. Ha! Ha! Marielle loved that thought!
At the age of 30, she was still unmarried, but happily so. She loved her single life, and she enjoyed living alone. She could have married, of course. There were still plenty of free, eligible men living in the Gynarchy – and she had received many, humble proposals of marriage from male suitors. For she was undoubtedly a stunningly beautiful, if rather petite, young, black woman who had been born on a remote tropical island in the South Pacific, but whose family had emigrated to the Gynarchy shortly after she was born.
Yes, Marielle turned free-men’s heads wherever she went. But whilst she was attracted to men – real men, free men – she nevertheless preferred living on her own, merely using the occasional free man for casual sex, but never becoming too emotionally involved with them, as was her perfect right as a free woman living in the Gynarchy. Marielle simply enjoyed her singleton lifestyle too much to want to change it, and her slave-spotting hobby, which took her all around the Gynarchy, was too important to her to give up for the benefit of some free man.
Slave-spotting gave her a real buzz. A high. It was how she got her kicks!
Marielle had therefore lived in the Gynarchy nearly all her life, and, even though she and her family had never been able to afford a personal, household slave themselves, she was a firm believer in, and fan of, the whole social order of male submission and slavery in the Gynarchy. Even the free men had to respect her as a superior woman, and she especially liked the feeling of feminine superiority that male slaves gave her. She liked their vulnerability; their helplessness; their powerlessness. It made her feel all the more fulfilled as a woman.
Marielle herself worked as a low-level civil servant in the Gynarchy’s Housing Department during the week, and it was during her weekends that she indulged in her favourite past-time of slave-spotting. Today she would be observing a neighbourhood, public footslave at work on one of the sink estates on the outskirts of the Gynarchy’s capital, Barbaria – public footslave no. 7654 3BS.
Marielle had, of course, already done some research on him at the State Slave Records Office. She knew that he was a white man, and was 52 years old; that he had been a public footslave all his adult life; that he had once worked on a prestigious, ‘sit-down’ shoelick-stand in the central town square of the Gynarchy – one where the female customers could sit down on a comfortable, raised chair and have their pretty boots or shoes properly licked clean by a skilled footslave; but that he had now been reduced to this suburban, so-called ‘step-up’ shoelick-stand, in one of the capital’s roughest estates, at which the female customers merely stood for a few minutes with their foot outstretched onto a wooden footblock directly beneath the public footslave’s kneeling face for a quick ‘lick and a shine’.
Ha! Ha! What a loser footslave no. 7654 3BS must be! From having been a slave at a relatively prestigious and high-profile, ‘sit-down’ shoelick-stand in the central town square, he was now nothing more than an anonymous footlick at an equally anonymous suburban, ‘step-up’ shoelick-stand. Such suburban, neighbourhood, ‘step-up’ shoelick-stands were two a penny, often operated by has-been footslaves nearing the end of their useful working lives.
It might be a step-up for the female customers, but it was clearly a step-down in the humble footslave’s ‘career’ ladder!
Marielle smiled to herself as she read through her preliminary notes. According to her street-plan of the estate there was a row of shops, including a small café, directly opposite the suburban footslave’s pitch. Marielle would spend the afternoon sitting in the café, drinking coffee and eating a delicious cream-cake, whilst watching the down-in-the-dirt, public, foot and shoe licker go about his humble business of licking clean the dirty shoes and boots of the ladies on the estate, before she would eventually avail herself of his humble shoe-licking services.
She was even aware of a nearby park next to the row of shops, where she could ‘dirty up’ her own shoes in the muddy grass prior to approaching his shoelick-stand – give him something worthwhile to lick off her shoes!
Marielle didn’t just ‘spot’ public footslaves. She liked to observe all kinds of male slaves at work in the Gynarchy: street-cleaning slaves; rock-breaking slaves in the quarries; male ‘pony-slaves’. But public footslaves were her favourites – for it was so easy for her to make use of them herself. And their services were, of course, completely free of charge!
She particularly enjoyed teasing and tormenting public footslaves by letting them know that she had been watching their degrading and humiliating work, licking clean the dirty shoes and boots of superior, young women, whilst she herself had been relaxing and enjoying her freedom. The fact that there was a cafe directly opposite this particular suburban, ‘step-up’ shoelick-stand would be an added bonus, as she would be able to torment the slave with the knowledge that whilst he had been tasting ladies’ shoe and boot dirt all afternoon, she had been tucking into a delicious and succulent cream-cake!
That was one of the few drawbacks about Marielle’s hobby – she was beginning to put on some unwanted weight!
She placed her notebook into her leather handbag, and put on her bright red raincoat, for the weather forecast was for rain this afternoon. Excellent! The public footslave would, hopefully, be struggling with wet and dirty female footwear on his dirty, slave lips today!
She then packed her digital camera with the zoom lens, for Marielle always liked to take photographs of her ‘trophies’ at work. She would probably even show the slave some of her photographs of him at work, just to prove to him that she had really been watching him all afternoon. And then, of course she would post the photos onto her webpage on her social networking website, in order to share them with her fellow, slave-spotting enthusiasts!
The last thing Marielle had to decide upon before she left her house was what type of footwear to wear on her pretty, black feet. Because it was still the wintertime, and moderately cold outside, she had already decided to wear dark-coloured, nylon stockings beneath her knee-length skirt.
Marielle always wore skirts. She was not a ‘trousers’ girl. She considered herself to be much too delicate and feminine for trousers. Well, she knew that her shapely, if somewhat short, tropical-island legs were one of her greatest assets, so why not show them off in short skirts and finest denier, dark-coloured nylon stockings?!
She further decided that a nice pair of shiny, black leather, high-heeled stilettos would go well with her finest denier, dark nylon stockings today. Marielle spent nearly all her money on shoes, and she mainly liked high-heels. She did have a bit of a complex about her short height, and wearing heels always made her feel so much taller and stronger.
Besides, it was always nice to wear heels when dealing with a footslave. Not only did they symbolically raise a woman’s foot out of the dirt on which she was forced to walk, but the large gap between the sole of her shoe and the back of the heel inevitably made it difficult for the humble footslave to see exactly what his tongue was licking on the underside of the mistress’s shoe, especially if the female wearer of the shoe declined to assist the slave by raising her dirty shoe-sole up towards his gormless, footlicking face!
And anything that made life more difficult for a dirty slave won Marielle’s approval!
She chose one of her favourite pairs of black, shiny, patent leather stilettos with three inch heels and little black, felt bows on the front. She thought they looked a bit too clean and shiny as she slipped them onto her nylon-stockinged feet, but the rain and the muddy grass adjacent to the café would soon change all that. Marielle would make damn sure her patent leather stilettos were suitably dirty before she eventually approached the suburban public footslave’s shoelick-stand.
And so she made a few final adjustments to her shoulder length, straight, black hair, applied some bright red lipstick to her pretty lips to match her bright, red raincoat, and then headed off to the train station in order to catch the suburban train to the rough, sink estate on the other side of town.
It was already threatening to start raining as she entered the somewhat run-down café and booked her table right by the front window. Sure enough the pathetic, 52 year old, male, public footslave was chained-up on his hands and knees above his wooden footblock directly across the road from the café. Ha! Ha! Where else would he be?
Marielle took off her coat and ordered a large, skinny latte and a cream-cake before taking out her camera, her pen and her notebook. The café waitress didn’t bat an eyelid. She’s seen plenty of slave-spotters in here before.
Marielle didn’t have long to wait for the footslave to have his first customer of the afternoon.
She looked like a stereotypical young woman from the sink estate – early to mid twenties; slightly overweight; blonde ponytail tied back over a grey, hoodie-style anorak; and black denim jeans tucked into the tops of a pair of thick, shapeless-looking, ankle-length, beige-coloured Ugg boots. Marielle could somehow just sense that the young, blonde woman was unemployed – she was the sort of girl she herself often had to assist at the public enquiry counter in the Housing Department, reliant on Female State benefits and cheap housing, all of which she was fully entitled to, of course, as a free, young, female citizen living in the Gynarchy.
Marielle could see that the public footslave’s female hoodie-customer was also smoking a fag, as she arrogantly stretched forward her right, Ugg-booted and denim-jeaned leg onto the middle-aged slave’s wooden footblock directly beneath his kneeling face.
Marielle could not, of course, hear what the young woman was saying to the public footslave, but she had no doubt that the superior young woman was barking some sort of order down at him to lick all the filth off her precious Ugg boots, probably employing a few choice expletives and swearing at him as she did so.
The young woman certainly looked suitably angry and impatient, even from behind, as she stood with her right, Ugg-booted foot stretched imperiously out in front of her, her blonde ponytail fluttering in the breeze, her cigarette resting between the fingers of her nicotine-stained right hand as she appeared to carelessly flick down some hot cigarette ash onto the top of the 52 year old footslave’s balding head.
Marielle observed how the footslave got to work straight away, licking all around the base of the young, blonde woman’s dirty, beige, sheepskin Ugg boot. Marielle giggled to herself! Ha! Ha! How humiliating for the 52 year old slave-man, who was once a skilled shoelicker on a prestigious shoeshine stand in the centre of town, to have to employ his experienced tongue on a pair of shapeless and muddy-looking Ugg boots belonging to an unemployed girl less than half his age! And to have to do so with all good grace, no doubt having to respond to her foul-mouthed and insulting language with the most humble and obsequious of slave-speak!
After all, the vulnerable public footslave wouldn’t want the young woman’s tattooed and violent boyfriend coming round later in the day in order to kick his ugly face in for ‘dissing’ his girlfriend’s Ugg boots, would he? And so the 52 year old experienced, male footslave must kiss, lick and worship the 22 year old, unemployed, blonde girl’s dirty, beige sheepskin boots, and make out that he is honoured and blessed to do so!
Marielle focussed her camera on the scene trough the window of the café and took a picture. She also noted a description of the young woman’s footwear down in her notebook – for future reference. Perhaps she should buy a pair of boots like those for herself?
Ha! Ha! Marielle smiled as she observed the young woman suddenly stoop down to slap the slave hard across his cheek with the back of her bony, white hand. She was obviously not entirely satisfied with his Ugg-boot licking efforts thus far! Marielle guessed that this young woman would be one of the footslave’s regulars. She certainly looked like a local girl – no bags or cases with her. She must live nearby and have nothing better to do at the moment than have her boots cleaned by the local neighbourhood footslave.
Marielle watched from the café as the humble slave regained his composure following the rattling slap across his middle-aged, footslave-head by the superior, young woman, and as he then appeared to profusely apologise to the superior, young, unemployed woman before he resumed his licking of her dirty footwear with renewed, female-slap-inspired vigour.
After some 5 minutes the young woman changed feet, so that her left Ugg boot was now resting on the wooden footblock beneath the slave’s face. She wasn’t talking to him, or rather shouting at him, now. She appeared to be having an argument with someone else on her mobile phone. Effing and blinding by the looks of it. An argument with her violent, tattooed boyfriend perhaps? Or a heated conversation with an official in the housing department?
Marielle was glad she wasn’t the duty officer this weekend!
Suddenly another young woman approaches the shoelick-stand – clearly a friend of the young blonde woman who is still having her left Ugg boot licked, for the blonde woman immediately terminates her phone conversation and the two young women embrace.
This second girl is about the same age, early twenties; slightly older perhaps. And definitely fatter. She has dark, shoulder-length hair and, in Marielle’s opinion, is quite hard-looking - dressed as she is in a rather scruffy brown anorak and black, calf-length, heavily buckled biker-style boots over what look like black woolly tights beneath a short, black leather miniskirt. She too has a lit cigarette in her hand.
The blonde girl appears to be explaining to the fat, brunette girl exactly what her heated telephone conversation had been about, using lots of irate hand-gestures as she does so, but still keeping her left leg extended out onto the public footslave’s wooden footblock, so that he can continue to lick her dirty, left Ugg boot whilst she talks to her friend.
The fat, brunette woman in the calf-length, black leather biker boots is listening intently to her blonde, Ugg-booted friend’s verbal frustrations, apparently sympathetic to them whatever they are, as she is clearly upset about the subject matter herself, and is using expletives to indicate her empathy with her friend’s predicament.
The two sink-estate girls’ conversation continues as they almost subconsciously switch places, and the footslave is suddenly regaled by the sight and smell on the wooden footblock of the fat girl’s right, heavy, black leather biker-boot which he immediately begins licking and tongue-shining without, seemingly, having to be instructed to do so by the superior, female wearer of the boot.
Marielle suspected that the fat girl must be another of the footslave’s regulars. He would therefore know only too well her wishes and desires in the boot-licking department, without her repeatedly having to spell them out to him every day!
Marielle takes another quick picture. Familiar with those black biker-boots though he may be, it must nevertheless be difficult for the public footslave to get his tongue in beneath all those black leather straps and heavy, metal buckles on the fat girl’s heavy black boots. Marielle is betting that the slave is wishing he could have the much more straightforward Ugg boots of the blonde, ponytailed girl back under his kneeling face! Ha! Ha!
The fat, brunette girl suddenly seems to expel some phlegm onto the pavement directly beside the footslave’s face. Eouw! How gross, thinks Marielle to herself! She had been just about to take another bite out of her cream-cake!
Still, at least the fat girl hadn’t gobbed directly onto the footslave’s face. More’s the pity – that would have made a great photograph for Marielle to post on her website! Ha! Ha!
The two young women from the estate then suddenly head off, without so much as a by-your-leave to the humble footslave, and without the young, fat, brunette woman even stopping to have her other biker-boot licked clean!
Marielle liked that! It must only serve to emphasise to the slave that he is regarded as nothing – and even his humble bootlicking services are instantly forgettable to the superior, female customers he so diligently and respectfully serves. Certainly not important enough for the second, young woman to feel any need to stick around and have her left biker-boot licked clean!
The reason for the two girls’ hasty retreat soon becomes more apparent however, as it starts to rain heavily outside the café.
Marielle smiles to herself. The public footslave is in for a soaking, and he has no protection whatsoever from the elements! Ha! Ha! He isn’t even fully clothed! Like all footslaves in the Gynarchy he is wearing only heavy chains and a pair of thin, white cotton slave-shorts! He must be cold, wet and miserable in the rain, whilst Marielle is warm, dry and cosy inside the café, enjoying her warming cup of coffee and her delicious cream-cake!
The only downside of such heavy rain, from Marielle’s point of view, is that the public footslave is unlikely to have any customers during the downpour. A few hardy women might stop to have their boots or shoes licked whilst they shelter under an umbrella, but that is probably unlikely. Why should they bother, after all? It’s not like they use the public slave to actually spruce up their footwear. They use him purely to degrade and humiliate him at their pretty, feminine feet, and there is no point in them getting themselves all wet and uncomfortable in the process! Their dirty boots and shoes can wait for the rain to stop -as must the public footslave.
He has no choice but to wait, and nowhere to shelter.
The thought occurred to Marielle that if the fat, brunette girl with the heavy biker boots had gobbed on the footslave’s head, her superior, feminine sputum would have been washed off by the rain by now. The slave can at least be grateful that the same rain will be washing the gob from her fag-ash and foul mouth off the pavement beneath his kneeling face!
That is probably the only upside of a rainstorm for the public footslave, for Marielle knows that after the rain stops the female shoes and boots he will have to deal with will inevitably be all the muddier and dirtier because of the rain. Whatever happens, she can absolutely guarantee him at least one pair of dirty, muddy shoes to lick clean – her own – for she will definitely be dirtying them up on the wet grass in the public park next to the cafe before she eventually avails herself of public footslave no. 7654 3BS's services!
But she must wait her turn, for as soon as the rain stops, and the sun starts to break through, a young, slim white woman with dyed-red hair, accompanied by what appears to be her black boyfriend, strolls over to the dripping-wet footslave.
The happy couple are smiling and standing arm in arm as they, no doubt, mock the soaking-wet footslave. They are both wearing dark, bomber-style jackets, white sneakers, and blue, denim jeans, but it is the young woman, of course, who positions her sneakered foot onto the footslave’s wet footblock for her sneakers to be kissed and licked.
Marielle focusses in on the young woman’s outstretched sneaker through the zoom lens on her digital camera. The sneaker looks truly filthy – nominally white, but actually more brown with ingrained dirt, than white. She appears to be wearing black and red patterned socks inside the sneakers, although only the elasticated top of her sock is just visible above the rim of the young woman’s tatty and scruffy, cheap-looking, velcro-fastened sneaker.
It is the young woman’s black boyfriend who is stooping down and apparently giving orders to the public footslave, observing and directing the slave-man’s humble sneaker-licking work, and no doubt explaining to the footslave in no uncertain terms exactly what he will do to him if he doesn’t clean his girlfriend’s dirty, wet sneakers to his, and her, complete satisfaction.
Marielle laughs to herself. Ha! Ha! The slave looks anxious – as well he might do! The young black man looks strong and muscular, even beneath his thick bomber jacket!
The young, red-haired woman has evidently been turned on by her boyfriend’s masterfulness in bossing about the much older male footslave, for the dominant, mixed-race couple are now kissing one another passionately on the lips, still whilst the young woman’s right foot and leg remain stretched out in front of her on the wooden footblock.
And this really isn’t just some quick peck on her boyfriend’s cheek – but a full on snog. Tongues and everything!
Marielle smiles wryly to herself as she clicks the shutter of her camera – still focussed on the young woman’s white sneaker and short, black and red sock beneath the hem of her blue, denim jean-leg. She is sure that the young woman’s foot and ankle muscles must be pulsating in a pleasurable reaction to the endorphins racing through her feminine bloodstream as a result of her manly boyfriend’s loving, lingering kiss. Those involuntary and pleasurable spasms in her pretty foot muscles must, in turn, be causing the elasticated top of her short, black and red patterned sneaker-sock to be creasing and folding in front of the humble footslave’s eyes!
Oh how he must be longing to kiss his superior, female-customer’s sock just as fervently as the young woman’s boyfriend is kissing her lips!
And yet - and this is precisely what tickles Marielle the most – he can’t. For he is just a slave. He must only obey orders, and he has not been ordered to kiss the young woman’s sock. He has merely been ordered to lick the mud and the dirt from her muddy-rain-soaked, white sneaker! And, being nothing but a humble slave, he must obey the young woman’s boyfriend’s orders – for the young man is, by extension, his master. He has delegated authority to boss the footslave about, by virtue of being the young woman’s sexual partner!
How Marielle loves the social strictures of the Gynarchy!
The footslave must be demonstrating his propensity for cleaning young-women’s sneakers quite well, however, for the couple now appear to be watching contentedly as the slim, young, red-haired woman presents her other sneakered foot for kissing. Through her camera lens Marielle can clearly see that the short, ankle sock on the redhead’s left foot has almost completely slipped down inside her greyish-white sneaker. Only the very thinnest of red lines at the top of her black and red sock can be seen running along her white-sneakered instep.
How frustrating it must be for the footslave! Knowing that the superior, young female-customer is wearing a cute, feminine sock inside her sneaker, and yet not being able to see it whilst he licks clean her outer footwear! Ha! Ha! Marielle is just loving the public footslave’s humiliation.
His next customers are a pair of female Community Support officers, patrolling the estate complete with their heavy, ankle length, lace-up, black leather police boots beneath their smart, navy-blue, police-uniform trouser legs. They are also wearing high-visibility, bright yellow jackets – as if to deliberately draw every one’s attention to what they are doing: having the community footslave attend to their dirty, mud-splattered, police-uniform boots.
This will make a great picture, thinks Marielle to herself. The public footslave kissing the feet of the Female Law! Fantastic! He must know that the two female police officers are not there to protect him, but to use him – and to see that he is arrested and punished if he fails to satisfy any of his sink-estate female customers with his boot and shoe cleaning efforts.
Marielle smiles to herself once again. The slave, even an experienced footslave like this one, must surely be very nervous whilst he is licking the two, young policewomen’s boots – for they have even more female power and authority over him than the civilian women of the Gynarchy. They could, after all, if they so wished, falsely accuse him of a crime against femininity, and have him thrown into the foothole-dungeons on entirely trumped up charges.
No one would ever know, or care, that he had been stitched up by the forces of Feminine Law and Order!
No doubt that is why the footslave’s pathetic, gormless face is seemingly racked with concentration as he appears to be sucking on one of the policewomen’s black bootlaces – sucking out all the muddy rainwater from it, no doubt, so that her smart, uniform boots will not be sullied by dirty stains from her bootlaces as she pounds the beat on the mean and dirty streets of this crime-ridden sink estate.
Marielle notices with some amusement how the whole area seems to have temporarily gone very quiet as soon as the two female community support officers made an appearance. She’s guessing that a lot of the estate’s residents would probably rather do without their support!
Including, no doubt, the terrified public footslave!
But he is evidently not under arrest, as the two young female police officers smile and walk off. Thy aren’t smiling at him, mind you, but at each other – smug smiles of satisfaction at the state of their respective, freshly licked boots and their shared sense of complete and absolute female power over the cringing and petrified male slave at their booted feet.
Marielle has seen enough! It’s time for her to test out the footslave’s tongue on her own footwear!
She finishes her coffee and exits the café, heading straight for the adjoining park. There she drags both her shiny, black, high-heeled stilettos through the muddy grass, moistening and muddying them - including the pretty, felt bows over the toe areas – just for the benefit of the pathetic, public footslave. Such a kind and thoughtful young woman she is!
Marielle’s heart is pounding with a considerable degree of feminine excitement as she approaches the kneeling footslave. What a treat it will be for him - a brand new and unfamiliar customer to serve, and shiny, black stiletto shoes as well! He seems to have been licking nothing but dirty boots and sneakers all afternoon!
She maintains a suitably smug and supercilious smile on her pretty, tropical-island-girl features as she steps up to the ‘step-up’ shoeshine-stand.
She places her right foot first onto the rain-soaked and mud-stained wooden footblock directly beneath the kneeling footslave’s face. It occurs to her that the mud on the footblock must be the residue from the boot and shoe soles of his previous female customers that day, so he will have their stale mud to lick off the soles of her shoes in addition to the fresh mud she has just applied to their shiny, black leather uppers!
That’s good!
The footslave, whilst keeping his head humbly bowed over her outstretched nylon stockinged and stilettoed foot, humbly greets his new female customer:
‘Good afternoon, mistress. How may I serve you mistress?’
Marielle would have thought that was obvious, but these suburban footslaves, in particular, can be a bit thick, in her experience:
‘Just give my shoes a shine, slave!’ she retorts. ‘Make sure you lick off all that mud and filth!’
‘Yes mistress. At once mistress. This slave obeys you, most sweet and kind superior mistress.’
Marielle giggles internally. She knows that the slave has to employ humble and flattering slave-speak whenever he addresses a superior female such as herself, but if he really knew her he would know that she was anything but ‘sweet and kind’, despite her petite stature and seeming, South Pacific, gentle femininity!
He was right about one thing, though. She was his superior.
A thrill of power races through her veins as she feels his dirty slave tongue for the first time on the side of her muddy, high-heeled shoe. She watches closely as she sees the mud actually come off her shoe and go inside his slave mouth – where it belongs!
She now laughs out loud at him:
‘Ha! Ha! How does it taste slave? Is my dirty shoe-mud displeasing to your footslave palate? Does it make you want to throw up?’
She knows the footslave has no choice but to answer her in the affirmative, for she has self-evidently gone to a lot of trouble to sully her smart, black leather stilettos with fresh mud from the nearby park - purely in order to humiliate and degrade him:
‘Oh yes mistress. It tastes terrible. Thank you mistress. If it is so pleasing to you mistress!’
Ha! Ha! What a lamebrain! What a dork! Having to thank her for the privilege of licking the foul-tasting, dirty mud off the side of her shoe, even though it turns his slave-stomach! Marielle loves slavery – since she isn’t the one who’s the slave; and, being female, she of course never will be!
She decides to quiz him as to how his humble day has been, largely to let him know that she has been watching him from the comfort of the café, but also because she is genuinely keen to know more about how he had felt when dealing with his previous female customers.
She shows him an image of the blonde ponytailed girl’s beige-brown Ugg boots on the viewing screen on her digital camera, and poses her next question to him:
‘So tell me, slave, how did you like the flavour of these dirty Ugg boots belonging to that young woman with the blonde ponytail? They must also have tasted fairly bitter on your tongue? They certainly looked bitter and dirty from where I was watching over the road in the café, whilst I was enjoying my delicious cream-cake!’
The experienced footslave realises immediately that he is dealing with an inquisitive slave-spotter! He’s had them before!
He actually finds it quite flattering to be the focus of a strange mistress’s attentions. She will probably even want to know his slave number, if she doesn’t know it already!
But first he must answer her entirely legitimate question about miss Lauren’s Ugg boots:
‘Oh pray mistress, if it pleases you mistress, miss Lauren’s Ugg boots were indeed foul-tasting and bitter today, caused no doubt by the fact that they were exceptionally muddy and dirty - even before the rain began, mistress… If it pleases you mistress, this slave believes that miss Lauren may have been for a walk in the park before she availed herself of his humble boot-cleaning services this afternoon, for her boot mud very much resembled that which he is now obliged to taste on the mistress’s shiny, black stilettos, if it is so pleasing to you most beautiful and all-powerful mistress.’
Marielle does indeed find it pleasing to have the taste of the mud on her stilettos compared to the taste of the mud on the blonde, sink-estate girl’s, beige sheepskin Ugg boots, for she had been worried that her expensive stilettos might be too good for a mere suburban footslave, and that he might actually enjoy her shoe-mud too much!
But he clearly didn’t!
She therefore laughed at him!
‘Ha! Ha! I am pleased to hear that, slave. Now eat up all my horrible shoe-mud! I want to see my shoes sparkling once again, now that the sun has finally come out!’
‘Yes mistress. At once mistress.’
The footslave carried on licking the side of her shoe, and Marielle kindly twisted her pretty, nylon-stockinged foot around slightly so that his tongue could gain greater purchase on the muddiest parts. She was acutely aware, of course, that in so doing she was causing her finest denier, dark-coloured nylon stocking to crease and fold around her shapely, South Pacific-Islander anklebone, and that she was, therefore, giving the pathetic, public footslave a cheap thrill!
Never mind! He almost deserved it, though she would never go so far as to allow a dirty, public footslave to actually place his lips on the creases in her nylon-stockinged ankle – unlike some sluttier mistresses!
Having haughtily ordered him to concentrate on licking the mud from the side of her shiny, black stiletto-heeled shoe, however, miss Marielle was still keen to hear more of the footslave’s experiences that afternoon – to fill in the gaps in her knowledge:
‘What was the girl with the Ugg boots - miss Laura or whatever you said her name was - arguing about on the phone, slave?’
Marielle knew she was putting the slave on the spot here. He had to answer her question, for she was a superior mistress; and yet he must feel that he must demonstrate a certain degree of client-confidentiality towards his regular customer from the estate. I mean, it might even be a trick question designed to test his sense of footslave-loyalty and discretion. And even if it wasn’t a trick question, what would happen if to him if miss Lauren got to hear that he was sharing her private business with strangers?!
It didn’t bear thinking about!
As Marielle expected, therefore, the public footslave’s humble response was entirely respectful of her question, but gave little away:
‘Oh pray mistress, if you would be so kind mistress, this dirty footslave was not privy to the nature of his superior mistress Lauren’s conversation on the phone, as he was concentrating on cleaning superior mistress Lauren’s dirty Ugg boots, if you would be so kind and gracious sweet feminine mistress.’
Liar! thought Marielle to herself. But she knew there was no point in pressing the matter. She could whip this slave all she liked, but he still wouldn’t talk.
Not if he valued his miserable life on the estate!
And so she turned her attention to miss Lauren’s fat friend:
‘And the fat girl’s biker-boot? How did you like concentrating your dirty, slave tongue on that? Didn’t your tongue get caught up in all the buckles and straps on the side of her heavy boot?’
‘Oh no mistress!’ exclaimed the footslave, seemingly almost affronted by the suggestion that he, a professional footslave and bootlicker of some 30 years’ experience, might not know how to tongue-shine a pair of sweet feminine biker-boots! …’This slave did manage to successfully extract the dirt from beneath mistress Brianna’s boot straps without damaging his tongue, if it is so pleasing to you most beautiful, black mistress!’
‘Mmm…not successfully enough, it seems, arrogant slave! Didn’t she have to bend down and slap you across the face at one point?’
‘Oh no, mistress…if you’ll pray forgive me, most merciful mistress, that was mistress Lauren who was obliged to slap me, mistress. Miss Lauren slapped me because I had allowed my tongue to brush against the material of her black, denim jeans whilst I was attending to the top of her Ugg boot, if it so pleases you most sweet and kind, feminine mistress.’
Marielle thought back for a moment and realised the slave was right! It had indeed been the blonde with the ponytail who had judiciously slapped the public footslave across the face.
Nevertheless, Marielle now stooped down to slap the insolent slave across the face with her own delicate, black, feminine hand:
‘Don’t be so impertinent slave! The fat mistress was clearly not satisfied with your pathetic efforts to clean her black, leather boots! Did she or did she not walk off without even giving you the chance to work your dirty, slave tongue on her left boot?’
Chastened and humbled by the stinging slap from mistress Marielle’s right hand, the slave submitted that she was, of course, quite right.
‘Y-Yes mistress. Indeed mistress. As you say mistress. This dirty slave apologises most profusely to the mistress, for the mistress is indeed correct!’
Indeed I am, thought mistress Marielle happily to herself. I’m always right, for I am a superior woman. And in the Gynarchy women are always right - even when they are mistaken!
That’s the Law.
Marielle continued with her self-righteous inquisition of the dirty, male slave:
‘And what about that slim girl with the red hair and the dirty, white sneakers, and her black boyfriend, slave? Didn’t it stick in your craw that you were having to take orders from a man only half your age, and having to lick the filth off his girlfriend’s dirty, disgusting sneakers whilst he just stood there and crowed over you?’
‘Oh pray, mistress, if it pleases you mistress, this slave was truly honoured to attend to the feet of miss Tracey under the instruction of her boyfriend, master James. This slave did his utmost to satisfy both the master and the mistress with his humble tongue-shining of the mistress’s dirty,white sneakers, if you would be so kind mistress.’
Marielle suddenly withdrew her right, stilettoed foot from the footslave’s lips and replaced it with her left. She didn’t bother to order him to lick clean her left shoe as he automatically got to work on its pretty, felt bow covering the toe area with his tongue - despite all the interruptions she was causing him with her constant questioning.
She had to quietly admit to herself that he was quite a good and compliant footslave.
That didn’t stop her teasing him though:
‘Ha! Ha! But what about the redhead’s socks, slave? I couldn’t help but noticing that her short, black and red patterned sneaker-socks had slipped down more or less completely inside her dirty, white sneakers. That must have irritated you and frustrated you, slave? Surely you were yearning to look at the tops of her pretty socks whilst you attended to her sneakers as she kissed her boyfriend, your master, on the lips?’
Marielle suspected that most, if not all, public footslaves were obsessed by female socks and stockings. Hardly surprising, given that they spend all of their time having to look at them, and smell them, whilst they kiss and lick their female betters’ boots, shoes and sandals! Why wouldn’t they develop obsessions about their superior, female customers’ inner footwear?
The slave’s reply only confirmed her suspicions:
‘Yes indeed mistress. The mistress is very astute, if this slave may say so mistress. This slave was indeed frustrated that he could only see the very top of his beautiful mistress Tracey’s black and red sneaker-socks as he humbly attended to her sneakers, but he has been privileged to actually kiss those very same socks on her ankles in the past mistress, when mistress Tracey has previously been wearing them with her strappy, peep-toe, stiletto-heeled sandals, if it is so pleasing to you most beautiful and perceptive mistress.’
Marielle, the ‘most beautiful and perceptive’ mistress, laughed out loud again:
‘Ha! Ha! Well, don’t be getting any ideas above your shoe-licking station that your flattery will get your dirty slave lips onto my nylon-stockinged ankles, slave. I don’t want your dirty slave-mouth spreading the filthy muck from my shoes onto the sides of my fine-denier stockings!’
‘No mistress, of course not mistress’ the slave reassured her, attempting but failing, to hide his disappointment at not being allowed to pay respectful homage to this strange, young black woman’s shapely, dark-nylon-covered ankle bones.
Still, at least he could look! At least he could stare at the fine creases in the thin nylon material covering her stockinged foot as she continued to quiz him about the two female Community Support officers, officer-mistress Amanda and her colleague officer-mistress Jade, whose police uniform boots and bootlaces he had licked and sucked free of mud and muddy rainwater in fear and trembling earlier in the day.
Miss Marielle went home happy that afternoon – happy that she had plenty to write about and to post on her social networking site that evening. It had been a very successful and fun day out slave-spotting!
And as for the fortunate and blessed public footslave no. 7654 3BS, well he had gotten to lick clean a smart pair of shiny, patent black leather, three-inch stilettos with pretty, black, felt bows whilst they were on the nylon-stockinged feet of an exotic, young, black woman who hailed originally from a tropical Island somewhere in the South Pacific!
Even though he never did get to know her name, the bitter taste of the slave-spotter's stiletto-shoe mud would remain in his slave mouth for a long time to come, alongside the boot and shoe mud of his regular mistresses from the sink estate, of course!
The End
Yet another public bootlicker hard at work
Public Bootlicker
Video Maker - Powered by GoAnimate.
