The Vicky Rake Show
It is the recording of another ‘must-see’ edition of mistress Vicky Rake’s popular daytime show on the Gynarchy’s infamous ‘Femdom Channel’. The theme of the final segment of today’s show is:
‘I wanna know, Vicky – is my personal footslave dissin’ me by looking at other women’s feet, or what?’
After the talk-show’s familiar theme tune has faded out and the applause from the female studio audience has died down, the daytime-show host – the stunningly sexy and attractive mistress Vicky who is today wearing a smart, pale blue trouser suit and black, strappy, stiletto-heeled, open-toed sandals on her bare, pedicured feet – introduces the final segment of her show to the audience at home by speaking directly into the camera from amidst the audience in the studio:
‘Thank you! Thank you! Welcome back everyone!... Ladies, what would you do if you suspected your personal footslave was being disloyal to your feet?....’
The female studio audience seem suitably shocked, and female gasps and mutterings echo around the studio.
The chat show hostess continues:
‘Meet my next guest today, 27 year old miss Bronwyn from the city of Femina, who says that her personal footslave, slave Edward, is dissin’ her feet. Give her a warm welcome everyone!...’
A chubby, but attractive, young black woman, dressed in a loose fitting white blouse; tight-fitting, black cotton, ankle-length leggings; and black, lace-up sneakers with short, white sneaker socks enters from stage right to the show’s familiar theme music and a rapturous round of applause from the female audience, and takes up her seat on the sofa centre-stage.
The hostess – mistress Vicky – joins her on the sofa.
‘Hi Bronwyn, and welcome to the show!’
‘Hi Vicky, how are y’ doin’?’
‘I’m doin’ fine, thanks, Bronwyn…now, you have concerns that your personal footslave, slave Edward, is being downright disloyal to your feet, is that right?’
‘That’s right, Vicky!’
‘Tell us more about your suspicions, Bronwyn!’
‘Well, Vicky, I’m convinced that my slave is disrespectin’ me and my feet by looking at the feet of other women when we’re out and about on the town, you know what I’m sayin’?’
A sharp gasp of shock and disapproval at the footslave’s allegedly disrespectful behaviour towards his mistress Bronwyn’s feet echoes around the supportive studio audience.
The talk-show hostess pumps her guest for more details:
‘Really? And what leads you to believe that, Bronwyn?’
‘Well, Vicky, I’ve caught him doin’ it! I’ve caught him lookin’ at other girls’ socks while we’re out and about in the city, you know what I’m sayin’? Like when I’m on the bus, or somethin’, and I’m usin’ his dirty-dog head as a footrest, you know what I’m sayin’? He’ll be glancin’ over at the sneakers and socks of some other sister sittin’ nearby instead of concentratin’ his dirty-dog head on my sneakers and socks, you know what I’m sayin’? He’s just a low-down dirty dog, Vicky! He’s dissin’ my feet all the time, you know what I’m sayin’?...’
The chat-show hostess does know what miss Bronwyn is saying, as does the all-female studio audience, judging by the cries and heckles coming from some of the more unruly members of the female audience. Cries such as:
‘Dirty dog!... Dirty foot-slut!... Bring him out here and whip him!...’
The chat show hostess, mistress Vicky, is more dignified and restrained in her response to her guest Bronwyn’s serious allegations about her personal footslave’s inappropriate conduct:
‘Really? That’s outrageous, Bronwyn! And you have such pretty feet too, girl!’
The TV cameras focus in on Bronwyn’s pretty black, lace-up sneakers and the elasticated tops of her short white sneaker-socks just below her ankle-length, black cotton leggings.
Somewhat embarrassed by the unprecedented attention to her somewhat podgy feet on national television, miss Bronwyn instinctively tucks her fat ankles in towards the studio sofa.
The audience boisterously voice their agreement with the pretty, daytime-show host’s opinion, however, and reassure Bronwyn with their feminine cheers and support that her fat, black feet and ankles are actually very nice and pretty looking.
The hostess continues to gently probe her studio guest:
‘Tell us a bit more about your personal footslave Edward, Bronwyn. How long have you owned him?’
‘Well, Vicky, he’s been with me for over 4 years now. I picked him up at a car-boot sale for only 20 Fems ($30), you know what I’m sayin’? I mean, I know that’s pretty cheap for a slave, but I still feel like I paid good money for him and he shouldn’t be disrespectin’ me and dissin’ my feet and all that, you know what I’m sayin? He’s my property! He’s my slave, and I ‘aint havin’ him dissin’ me and my feet no more. No way sister, you know what I’m sayin’?...’
She would have gone on, but Bronwyn’s words were drowned out by the enthusiastic and supportive cheering of the studio audience:
‘Go Bronwyn!...Go Bronwyn!...Go Bronwyn!...Go Bronwyn!...’
The TV host adds her support for Bronwyn’s entirely legitimate stance:
‘Too right, Bronwyn! You go, girl!...’, and she high fives her studio guest whilst sitting beside her on the sofa to the rapturous cheers and applause of the studio audience.
Bronwyn smiles broadly – almost embarrassed by the amount of support and love she is getting from both the audience and the famous daytime TV show hostess.
For she is quite a shy girl, really!
Once the noise has died down, the experienced TV host continues with her incisive questioning, designed to make her studio guest feel relaxed and open up. She fully appreciates that appearing on national television for the first time is a daunting experience, but she is adept at putting her guests at ease – especially when they have done no wrong, and in fact are the victims of crime, like Bronwyn.
‘Tell us a bit more about slave Edward, Bronwyn. What’s he like as a footslave?’
‘Well, I think he’s in his late forties, and I know that he likes to look at socks, Vicky. That’s why I always wear socks with my boots or sneakers, you know what I’m sayin’? I figure that if I wear socks in my shoes all the time it’ll help him to focus on my feet wherever we are, like say when he’s followin’ me to heel down the street, or somethin’, you know what I’m sayin’ Vicky? Believe me I’ve tried Vicky, but it don’t seem to make no difference – he’s still goin’ on lookin’ at other women’s socks on the street, you know what I’m sayin’?...’
‘Wow…I can see that you’re wearing a really cute pair of white sneaker-socks inside your sneaks today, Bronwyn!’ exclaims mistress Vicky, thereby ensuring yet again that the director in the gallery will order camera 4 to focus in on Bronwyn’s white socks and black sneakers at the bottom of the sofa!
The director also makes sure that mistress Vicky’s high-heeled, strappy sandals and pedicured toes are in shot at this point!
Bronwyn acknowledges to the chat-show host that she is indeed wearing cute, white socks inside her sneakers today – and implies that she is doing so for the benefit of her recalcitrant footslave:
‘That’s right, Vicky, and I always make sure my socks are visible to him, you know what I’m sayin’? That’s why I’m wearin’ white socks with my black sneakers and leggings that don’t cover my ankles and hide my socks, you know what I’m sayin’? Cos I know he likes lookin’ at girls’ socks, and I’m tryin’ my best to give him somethin’ good to look at, you know what I’m sayin’ Vicky? But he’s just a no-good dirty dog, Vicky! He’s a dirty slut! He still gets to lookin’ at other women’s socks, you know what I’m sayin’?...’.
The skilled hostess whips her audience up into a frenzy:
‘Wow! What a rat! What a dirty, stinking, low-down foot-pig! Maybe we should just call him ‘Sock-Slut’, or something? What do you think, guys? Is he a low-down, dirty sock-slut, or what?’
The audience collectively agree with their host’s assessment:
‘Yeah Vicky!... Yeah!... Whip the sock-slut!... Bring him on!’
The hostess, having raised the female rabble to a fever-pitch, next gets them to calm down again so that she can resume her gentle and sympathetic quizzing of poor, neglected Bronwyn.
‘So, Bronwyn, have you confronted your dirty slave about this?’
‘Vicky, I have confronted him so many times, you know what I’m sayin’? I’ve whupped him and scolded him and beaten him, you know what I’m sayin’? But he still denies everythin’ and insists that he would never look at another mistress’s socks without my permission, you know what I’m sayin’? But I know he’s lyin’ Vicky! I know he’s a dirty stinkin’ dirty-dog liar!...
‘OK – so wait a minute…so, let me get this straight: the dirty sock-slut is actually calling you, his mistress, a liar?’ asks the daytime show host incredulously, and deliberately provocatively.
The female audience go wild, baying for the footslave’s blood:
‘Bring the dirty slut on!... Whip him… Whip the dog!’
Mistress Bronwyn is more dignified in her response to the TV hostess’s provocative remark:
‘Well, he just denies bein’ a sock-slut, Vicky, you know what I’m sayin’? He ‘aint about to admit to nothin’, however hard I whup him, you know what I’m sayin’?’
The hostess has heard enough:
‘What do you say audience? Shall we bring on the dirty sock-slut and hear what he’s got to say for himself?’
The audience of women go wild again – standing up in their seats and totally impatient to see for themselves the dirty, low-down, disrespectful footslave in the flesh, so that they can shake their fists at him and hopefully even see his flesh being whipped at some point!
A smiling and laughing mistress Vicky finally gives in to the pressure from the baying, female crowd:
‘OK – Samantha, bring out the dirty foot-pig!’ she shouts over the din.
The show’s theme music starts up again, and a door opens stage left.
A terrified-looking, semi-naked male slave in his forties is led out into the lionesses’ den on his hands and knees by a pretty, young, ginger-haired floor manageress, who is wearing a bright, yellow T shirt with the letters ‘VR’ emblazoned on the front; scruffy, blue denim jeans; and yellow and white, lace-up sneakers with short, yellow sneaker-socks.
Somewhat ironically, given the theme of the show, as the slave crawls along the stage behind the floor-manageress to the accompanying boos, hisses and jeers of the female audience, he is obliged by law to stare at the back of the floor-manageress’s white and yellow sneakers and socks – until, that is, she deposits him at his own mistress Bronwyn’s feet next to the sofa!
Various angry young women in the audience are standing up and shouting obscenities at the kneeling footslave. The director will have to bleep a lot of them out (lucky the broadcast will be a recording!)
But those obscenities and insults which can be broadcast include:
‘Slut!... Whore!... Foot-dog!... Pig!’
The crowd go particularly mad when the object of their womanly ire humbly greets his mistress Bronwyn by hypocritically kissing her sneakers.
The hostess speaks out on behalf of all the women in the audience, expressing eloquently what they, and the millions of women who will be watching at home, no doubt are thinking:
‘Ha! Ha! Look at you now, slave! Not so clever now, are you? Ha! Ha! Grovelling for mercy at your mistress’s feet on national television! Ha! Ha!’
The commotion dies down as the disloyal footslave, pathetically, attempts to portray himself as a totally loyal footslave to his mistress and owner, mistress Bronwyn, by staring at and kissing her black sneakers and short, white sneaker socks on her fat, black ankles under the full glare of the cameras!
The pretty floor-manageress, still smiling for the cameras, exits stage left leaving just the trio of mistress Bronwyn, her grovelling personal footslave Edward, and the hostess, mistress Vicky, on stage.
Mistress Vicky leans down from her seated position beside her guest Bronwyn on the sofa, and shoves a microphone underneath the kneeling and penitent footslave’s face:
‘So, footpig! The dirty, disloyal sock-slut! You’ve heard what your beautiful, young mistress had to say while you were waiting backstage! What have you got to say for yourself, slut?’
Slave Edward, the sock-slut, foolishly attempts to justify himself:
‘Oh p…pray mistress, if it p…pleases you m…mistress Vicky, this slave has never looked at another woman’s feet or socks without p…permission, m…mistress!’
The idiotic, stuttering foot-fool then doesn’t particularly help his cause by stretching forth his scrawny, middle-aged neck in order to kiss mistress Vicky’s bare pedicured toes inside her shiny black, strappy, stiletto-heeled sandals!
His pathetic and cynical words and actions are greeted by an almighty jeer from the female audience and shouts of:
‘Liar!... Whip him!... Dirty, lying slut!... Kick him in the face Vicky!... Kick him to the kerb, Bronwyn!’
Miss Bronwyn just clicks her teeth and shakes her pretty, black head in disgust at her slave.
The hostess, having withdrawn her pedicured, celebrity toes from the guest-slave’s lips, tries to quieten down the audience again:
‘Wow! Wow! Give the pig a chance to grunt, everyone. Let’s hear what the slut has to say!’
But mistress Bronwyn can remain silent no longer:
‘Vicky, he’s lyin’! I‘ve seen him do it, you know what I’m sayin’? He is disrespectin’ me and my socks on a daily basis! He’s a no-good, dirty dog, you know what I’m sayin’?...’
She duly kicks slave Edward’s face away, as he is once again attempting to kiss his own, sweet mistress’s black, lace up sneakers .
The crowd applaud the poor girl supportively. They have never been so outraged! Not since the first segment of the show was recorded earlier that day on the theme of:
‘Vicky, my slave was a runaway, but now he wants to come back!’
But back to this afternoon’s recording, and mistress Vicky wants to hear more from the dirty, disrespectful slave who is allegedly disloyal towards his mistress’s socks and feet. It makes for great television – watching him squirm on air!
‘You heard your mistress Bronwyn, slave! Are you calling her a liar, or something?’
‘Oh p…pray, mistress Vicky. N…No mistress Vicky. God b…bless you mistress Vicky!’
‘Well, what is it then? Are you a dirty dog, or aren’t you? Aren’t her feet and socks good enough for you, or something? Don’t you admire your pretty, black mistress’s feet and socks? Do you think you are just too high and mighty to behave respectfully towards her sneakers and socks, or something?’
The stupid slave flounders desperately under the barrage of questioning from the skilled daytime-interrogatress, mistress Vicky. But he still foolishly seeks to p…proclaim his innocence:
‘Oh p…pray…m… mistress Vicky, if it p…pleases you m…mistress Vicky, this slave does truly adore and respect his m…mistress B…Bronwyn’s feet and socks, m…mistress Vicky...’
‘So why do you damn well look at other women’s socks when you are out on the streets crawling behind your mistress’s sneakers and socks, slut? That’s what I don’t get!’ mistress Vicky rudely interrupts him, with fake outrage for the benefit of the cameras.
The crowd applaud the TV host’s somewhat leading, but perfectly legitimate, question. Any mistress, after all, can ask a slave anything she wants!
And by law he must answer her!
‘Oh p…pray mistress. I don’t look at other m…mistresses’ socks, if it is pleasing to you m…mistress Vicky!’ protests the floundering slave as humbly and as convincingly as he can, although even he isn’t convinced by his faltering words.
The audience are certainly having none of it! They are up in their seats baying for the slave’s blood, as mistress Bronwyn continues to sit on the sofa, shaking her pretty head in disdain and disbelief:
‘How can you say that, slave? I’m tellin’ you I’ve seen you do it, you dirty, lyin’ pig!’
Vicky calms the audience, and miss Bronwyn, down again:
‘OK! OK everybody! Sit down!...Sit Down!…It’s time for y’all to meet our next special guest: let’s hear it for officer-mistress Julie from the Femina Police Department! Where are you, Julie? Come on out!’
The show’s theme music starts up in the background again as a pretty, smiling, blonde-ponytailed, uniformed female police officer enters stage right to rapturous applause and cheering from the female audience.
The pretty, young officer’s smart uniform consists of a crisp, white blouse; a navy blue neck-scarf; navy blue boot-cut trousers; and black leather, zip-up, chunky-heeled and round-toed, police-uniform ankle boots. Attached to a belt around her pretty waist are a standard-issue, brown leather, prisoner-punishment strap, and a set of steel handcuffs.
She looks truly awesome, and the male director in the gallery orders the camera to linger on the pretty officer for a few moments, especially focussing in on her black, ankle boots.
It’s a good call because the pretty police officer presents each of her booted feet for the accused, kneeling footslave to kiss before taking up her seat on the sofa beside the host, mistress Vicky, and her other guest, miss Bronwyn.
Again, the irony is not lost on slave Edward that he is expected, and indeed required, to kiss the feet of the female police officer (i.e. of another young woman) during a TV show in which he is being accused of being disloyal to his own mistress’s feet and chasing after other women’s feet!
Double standards? Not at all – there is nothing wrong in women’s eyes with a male footslave paying his humble footslavish respects to another woman when she enters a room. It’s just the constant lusting after other mistresses’ feet without his own mistress’s permission that they object to!
Just as well, therefore, that they couldn’t read slave Edward’s dirty mind whilst he was kissing the female police officer’s feet – for he was longing to see her black, police-uniform anklesocks inside her ankle boots as he did so!
Fortunately for him he couldn’t see them. He therefore resumed his humble staring at the elasticated tops of his own mistress Bronwyn’s sweet, white sneaker-socks.
Camera 4 once again focussed in on the sweating and worried-looking face of the footslave kneeling at his mistress Bronwyn’s sneakered and socked feet. After all, the slave had every right to be worried and to look perturbed. Why had officer-mistress Julie been invited onto the show?
The applause welcoming the pretty, female police officer died down, and the background music faded away as she settled down onto the sofa beside Vicky and Bronwyn.
‘Hi Vicky! How are you doin’? Hi Bronwyn!’ chirped the female cop happily.
At this point the elasticated tops of miss Julie’s black, police-uniform socks did become visible beneath the hems of her navy-blue, boot-cut trouser legs, and the director ensured that camera 4 picked them up (well, there would be sure to be lots of male slaves watching the show at home alongside their respective mistresses!)
Mistress Vicky picks up the police baton, so to speak:
‘Now, officer Julie, we contacted you to see if you could maybe help Bronwyn with her problem-slave. Tell us what you did!’
‘That’s right, Vicky! When you contacted us at the Femina Police Department we decided to investigate this dirty slave’s behaviour on behalf of his mistress, and so we attached a hidden camera into the hem of Bronwyn’s blue-jeans in order to monitor her footslave’s behaviour!...’
The female audience gasp, as does slave Edward, although unfortunately the camera didn’t pick his gasp up, as it was still focussed on police officer Julie’s ankle boots and socks!
Meanwhile mistress Vicky, who knew full well about the hidden camera, feigns shock and surprise:
‘Wow – a hidden camera! Cool!’
The pretty, blonde police officer goes on to explain how the camera works:
‘Well, Vicky, it’s a tiny camera like this one (she holds up a miniscule camera that looks no bigger than a drawing pin) that can be discreetly sewn into the hem of a lady’s trouser leg and used to track her footslave’s behaviour. If the dirty slave looks away from his mistress’s feet the camera will pick it up, and we’ve got him bang to rights!’
The audience, who had remained respectfully quiet whilst the police officer was talking, now burst out into raucous, female laughter and cheering! A smiling miss Bronwyn who had, of course, been in on the hidden camera stunt right from the start, joins in the female laughter and applause.
Only the male slave kneeling humbly at her sneakered feet looks quiet and subdued, though, to his credit, he is still staring dutifully at his black mistress Bronwyn’s white sneaker-sock tops, despite the fact that there are now two other pairs of pretty, female feet resting next to his bowed head on the floor – the stylish, strappy, black stilettos and bare, red-painted toenails of the host, mistress Vicky; and the black, zip-up, chunky-heeled ankle boots and plain, black bootsocks of the blonde-ponytailed, police officer-mistress, mistress Julie.
‘Wow!...’ exclaims the show’s hostess, miss Vicky, on behalf of her audience both in the studio and at home, in reaction to the female police officer’s revelations. ‘…We really wanna see that footage, don’t we guys?’
Everyone laughs and cheers at mistress Vicky’s witty pun! Miss Bronwyn even high fives her again on the sofa.
‘OK! Let’s do it! ...’, continues the hostess, ‘…Roll the tape!’
Some grainy video footage appears on a large screen at the back of the stage.
‘Talk us through it if you would please, officer Julie,’ requests the host.
‘Well, Vicky, this is an excerpt from when Bronwyn was having a coffee at the central train station in Femina. Here you can see that she is sitting on a raised bar-stool at the counter and the slave is kneeling on the floor beside her feet staring straight into the hidden camera which we had sewn into the hem of her blue-jean on her right leg – therefore we know that, at this point, he is obeying the law and concentrating on looking at his mistress’s ankle boots and socks whilst she enjoys her coffee..’
‘So far so good! Ya’ll can see that, can you folks?’ interrupts mistress Vicky.
‘Yes Vicky!’ confirm a number of female voices in the audience.
Bronwyn just smiles as she watches the playback. She remembers she was wearing her pointy-toed, brown leather, spike-heeled, zip-up ankle boots and navy-blue bootsocks on that particular morning.
Police officer Julie continues with her running commentary, however:
‘...But look what happens here, Vicky. You see that pretty, young Caucasian woman with the white keds and pink and white tube socks who is taking up her seat next to Bronwyn at the coffee-bar counter? Just watch what happens when she sits down and rests her sneakered and socked feet on the metal footrest of the bar-stool next to where Bronwyn is sitting!...’
Everyone, apart from slave Edward, is avidly watching the grainy footage from the hidden camera on the large screen to see what happened next. He can’t see it from his humble position. All he can currently see are his mistress Bronwyn’s black sneakers and white sneaker socks next to the sofa.
But he doesn’t need to watch the large screen. He knows what happened next. For he remembers doing it!
So he just desperately tries to focus instead on his mistress Bronwyn’s white sneaker-socks under the hot lights of the television studio as his wrongdoing is exposed for the whole Female Nation to see!
A separate ‘Reaction-Cam’ picks up his fear at his mistress’s feet as the whole studio audience suddenly rise to their feet in uproar! The hidden camera footage has just shown the hapless footslave’s eyes clearly wandering away from his own mistress Bronwyn’s brown, leather ankle boots and navy blue bootsocks in the coffee bar as he furtively glances over at the knee-length, pink and white tube socks and white keds on the neighbouring bar stool!
The director even freezes the hidden camera shot on the large screen to confirm the footslave’s offence!
There is organised chaos in the studio. Various female members of the studio audience are on their feet and shaking their female fists at the terrified and cringing footslave as he continues to seek solace in his mistress’s sneakers and socks at the base of the studio sofa!
Now he is seeking protection from the baying, female crowd in his mistress’s footwear!
‘Wow!’ exclaims the TV hostess in feigned surprise. ‘What a dirty, low-down dog! What a scum bag! What a rat fink!’
She is only putting into words what everyone else in the studio is thinking. That’s her job.
She looks down at the cringing footslave with a genuine look of disgust, however.
Meanwhile officer Julie continues to present her evidence to the Court of female opinion:
‘…And there’s more, Vicky!’
‘More?’ exclaims the hostess with fake incredulity.
‘Yep! This further footage was taken while Bronwyn was standing in line at her local grocery store…’
The large screen now shows another scene, presumably taken on the same day, with slave Edward initially staring dutifully at the spiked heels of his mistress Bronwyn’s brown leather, ankle boots, as he kneels dutifully behind her in the checkout queue – even though, it should again be noted to his credit, his mistress’s navy-blue bootsocks were this time hidden beneath the hems of her blue-denim jeans, the very hems in which the tiny camera was discreetly hidden!
After a few moments, however, his lustful, girlsock-obsessed eyes can yet again clearly be seen wandering over towards the scruffy, black and white, lace-up, high-top, converse sneakers and multicoloured, stripy socks of another black mistress who is standing in the queue.
The studio audience are outraged at the dirty footslave’s blatant and very public disloyalty towards his own charming young mistress Bronwyn’s feet and boots – all in broad daylight; in the middle of a grocery store; and captured on camera!
Slave Edward knows the game is up! He has been caught red-faced and red-handed!
As the studio cameras focus in on his shame, his only visible reaction is to start sobbing into his mistress Bronwyn’s plain, black, lace-up sneakers and short, white sneaker socks.
But no-one present feels any pity for him, and the TV host, miss Vicky, says it all:
‘There’s no point in sobbing into your mistress’s sneakers, dirty slave! Shouldn’t you be kissing them, and begging her for forgiveness and mercy?’
She’s right, of course, and slave Edward knows it! He immediately stops his pathetic, slavish sobbing and feverishly resumes kissing his mistress Bronwyn’s black lace-up sneakers and short, white sneaker-socks. It appears that he can’t stop shaking, however, and he seems to have been literally left speechless by events, for no belated, verbal apology is forthcoming from him, and no weaselly words emanate from his footslave-mouth, bleating for his mistress’s sweet, feminine mercy!
For her part mistress Bronwyn, seated above him on the comfortable, TV studio sofa, now has a smug and satisfied grin on her pretty, black face. She has been vindicated by the hidden camera, and now her disloyal, personal footslave is having to kiss her sneakered feet in shame on national television! She finds him pathetic and almost funny!
The audience, however, continue to be outraged on her behalf. The hostess leaves the sofa, and wanders amongst them with her microphone seeking out their comments and reactions to the damning, hidden-camera evidence:
‘What do you think mistress Bronwyn should do with her slave?’ Vicky asks one black woman who is even fatter than Bronwyn herself.
‘Bronwyn, you’re a lovely girl! You don’t have to put up with all that, girl! Kick that dirty foot-slut to the kerb, sister!’
A nearby white woman with dirty, greasy black hair and severe acne grabs the microphone:
‘I think she should throw the book at him, Vicky! Have him arrested and charged, innit? That’s just downright disrespect, that is. He’s been dissin’ you all along, girl!’
The rest of the audience seem to agree.
Vicky takes up that last point with the blonde police-officer, miss Julie, who is still seated on the sofa beside Bronwyn:
‘How about that, officer Julie? Has the slave actually committed a criminal offence? Can he be arrested and charged with anything?’
Miss Julie laughs:
‘Well, Vicky he certainly can. I can arrest him right here and now on suspicion of slavish neglect and disrespect for his mistress’s feet and footwear, if miss Bronwyn would like me to? The penalty is 6 months in the foothole dungeons and a public whipping in the central, town square of not more than 20 lashes. It really all depends on whether or not Bronwyn wishes her slave to be formally arrested and charged, or not!’
The audience clearly think that they know what Bronwyn should do, as various women shout out their words of sisterly advice:
‘Charge him, Bronwyn!... Have him charged!... Have him arrested and punished!... Don’t let the dirty dog get away with it!....He’ll only do it again to you, Bronwyn!...The dirty sock-slut!... Send him to the dungeons, Bronwyn! Have him whupped!’
Miss Bronwyn smiles nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed at being the centre of everyone’s attention again (she prefers it when the camera is concentrating on the dirty slave at her feet – putting him on the spot!)
Vicky intervenes to help strengthen Bronwyn’s sweet, feminine resolve. She must have an arrest on her show! Think of what it will do for the viewing figures!
She rejoins Vicky and officer Julie on the sofa centre-stage.
‘Ha! Ha! Well, Bronwyn, what’s it to be? Do we get officer Julie to formally arrest and charge the dirty sock-slut, or do we let him off scot-free?
Since the TV host has put it like that, Bronwyn finds it much easier to make up her mind:
‘I’d like him arrested and charged please, Vicky!’
The female studio audience rise to their feet with roars of approval and sustained applause at Bronwyn’s, not very difficult, decision.
‘Alright!... Alright!’ screams a delighted mistress Vicky, punching the air with her microphone as she rises up off the sofa once again.
In fact, only miss Bronwyn remains seated now, as blonde police officer mistress Julie detaches the handcuffs from the belt around her slender waist and moves over to where the footslave is still kneeling at Bronwyn’s feet in order to cuff his disrespectful footslave-hands behind his back.
The audience are laughing and cheering, but Vicky gestures to them to quieten down:
‘Shush everyone!...Let's listen in as officer Julie formally reads him his maleslave-rights! Ha! Ha!...’
The audience duly simmer down, and the camera focusses in on the kneeling footslave’s face which is now under arrest and having to stare at officer Julie’s smart, black leather, police-uniform ankle boots beneath the hems of her navy-blue, boot-cut trouser legs.
He still isn’t getting to see her police-uniform socks!
Officer Julie formally reads the male slave-prisoner his non-rights:
‘Slave Edward, I am arresting you on suspicion of slavish neglect and disrespect towards your mistress Bronwyn’s feet and footwear. You may not say anything in your defence, and anything you do say will be used against you in a Female Court of Law.’
The female audience erupt once more into hysterical, female cheers and applause as the young, slim and svelte, blonde-ponytailed police officer, mistress Julie, drags the trussed up and sobbing, pathetic, middle-aged footslave across the floor of the television studio behind her black leather, police-uniform ankle boots and out towards the right-hand stage exit where a Female Police van is waiting to take him away.
As the audience settle back down into their seats miss Vicky has one more surprise for her guest, miss Bronwyn:
‘OK folks, we don’t wanna leave our brave guest Bronwyn without a personal footslave for 6 whole months, do we?...’
‘No!... No!’ confirm the female audience.
‘... Right, so, Bronwyn, we’ve got a little surprise for you!...Samantha, bring him on!...’
Samantha, the pretty, ginger-haired floor manageress, re-enters from stage left with yet another footslave in tow behind her white and yellow sneakers and socks – only this one is a real hunk, young and strong looking, and done up with a pink bow on his head to make him look like he is an early Christmas present!
The audience cheer and stomp their pretty, feminine feet as the new, semi-naked slave-hunk is presented on his hands and knees at Bronwyn’s shy and modest, sneakered and socked feet.
The slave-hunk immediately makes a show of respectfully kissing his new mistress’s black, lace-up sneakers and short, white sneaker-socks on her fat, black feet.
‘Take him with our compliments, Bronwyn, and enjoy! He’s all yours, girl!’ declares mistress Vicky for the benefit of the cameras.
A beaming Bronwyn thanks and kisses her host, whilst the closing theme music strikes up and the female studio audience chants in unison:
‘Go Vicky!...Go Vicky!...Go Vicky!...Go Vicky!...’
The End
‘I wanna know, Vicky – is my personal footslave dissin’ me by looking at other women’s feet, or what?’
After the talk-show’s familiar theme tune has faded out and the applause from the female studio audience has died down, the daytime-show host – the stunningly sexy and attractive mistress Vicky who is today wearing a smart, pale blue trouser suit and black, strappy, stiletto-heeled, open-toed sandals on her bare, pedicured feet – introduces the final segment of her show to the audience at home by speaking directly into the camera from amidst the audience in the studio:
‘Thank you! Thank you! Welcome back everyone!... Ladies, what would you do if you suspected your personal footslave was being disloyal to your feet?....’
The female studio audience seem suitably shocked, and female gasps and mutterings echo around the studio.
The chat show hostess continues:
‘Meet my next guest today, 27 year old miss Bronwyn from the city of Femina, who says that her personal footslave, slave Edward, is dissin’ her feet. Give her a warm welcome everyone!...’
A chubby, but attractive, young black woman, dressed in a loose fitting white blouse; tight-fitting, black cotton, ankle-length leggings; and black, lace-up sneakers with short, white sneaker socks enters from stage right to the show’s familiar theme music and a rapturous round of applause from the female audience, and takes up her seat on the sofa centre-stage.
The hostess – mistress Vicky – joins her on the sofa.
‘Hi Bronwyn, and welcome to the show!’
‘Hi Vicky, how are y’ doin’?’
‘I’m doin’ fine, thanks, Bronwyn…now, you have concerns that your personal footslave, slave Edward, is being downright disloyal to your feet, is that right?’
‘That’s right, Vicky!’
‘Tell us more about your suspicions, Bronwyn!’
‘Well, Vicky, I’m convinced that my slave is disrespectin’ me and my feet by looking at the feet of other women when we’re out and about on the town, you know what I’m sayin’?’
A sharp gasp of shock and disapproval at the footslave’s allegedly disrespectful behaviour towards his mistress Bronwyn’s feet echoes around the supportive studio audience.
The talk-show hostess pumps her guest for more details:
‘Really? And what leads you to believe that, Bronwyn?’
‘Well, Vicky, I’ve caught him doin’ it! I’ve caught him lookin’ at other girls’ socks while we’re out and about in the city, you know what I’m sayin’? Like when I’m on the bus, or somethin’, and I’m usin’ his dirty-dog head as a footrest, you know what I’m sayin’? He’ll be glancin’ over at the sneakers and socks of some other sister sittin’ nearby instead of concentratin’ his dirty-dog head on my sneakers and socks, you know what I’m sayin’? He’s just a low-down dirty dog, Vicky! He’s dissin’ my feet all the time, you know what I’m sayin’?...’
The chat-show hostess does know what miss Bronwyn is saying, as does the all-female studio audience, judging by the cries and heckles coming from some of the more unruly members of the female audience. Cries such as:
‘Dirty dog!... Dirty foot-slut!... Bring him out here and whip him!...’
The chat show hostess, mistress Vicky, is more dignified and restrained in her response to her guest Bronwyn’s serious allegations about her personal footslave’s inappropriate conduct:
‘Really? That’s outrageous, Bronwyn! And you have such pretty feet too, girl!’
The TV cameras focus in on Bronwyn’s pretty black, lace-up sneakers and the elasticated tops of her short white sneaker-socks just below her ankle-length, black cotton leggings.
Somewhat embarrassed by the unprecedented attention to her somewhat podgy feet on national television, miss Bronwyn instinctively tucks her fat ankles in towards the studio sofa.
The audience boisterously voice their agreement with the pretty, daytime-show host’s opinion, however, and reassure Bronwyn with their feminine cheers and support that her fat, black feet and ankles are actually very nice and pretty looking.
The hostess continues to gently probe her studio guest:
‘Tell us a bit more about your personal footslave Edward, Bronwyn. How long have you owned him?’
‘Well, Vicky, he’s been with me for over 4 years now. I picked him up at a car-boot sale for only 20 Fems ($30), you know what I’m sayin’? I mean, I know that’s pretty cheap for a slave, but I still feel like I paid good money for him and he shouldn’t be disrespectin’ me and dissin’ my feet and all that, you know what I’m sayin? He’s my property! He’s my slave, and I ‘aint havin’ him dissin’ me and my feet no more. No way sister, you know what I’m sayin’?...’
She would have gone on, but Bronwyn’s words were drowned out by the enthusiastic and supportive cheering of the studio audience:
‘Go Bronwyn!...Go Bronwyn!...Go Bronwyn!...Go Bronwyn!...’
The TV host adds her support for Bronwyn’s entirely legitimate stance:
‘Too right, Bronwyn! You go, girl!...’, and she high fives her studio guest whilst sitting beside her on the sofa to the rapturous cheers and applause of the studio audience.
Bronwyn smiles broadly – almost embarrassed by the amount of support and love she is getting from both the audience and the famous daytime TV show hostess.
For she is quite a shy girl, really!
Once the noise has died down, the experienced TV host continues with her incisive questioning, designed to make her studio guest feel relaxed and open up. She fully appreciates that appearing on national television for the first time is a daunting experience, but she is adept at putting her guests at ease – especially when they have done no wrong, and in fact are the victims of crime, like Bronwyn.
‘Tell us a bit more about slave Edward, Bronwyn. What’s he like as a footslave?’
‘Well, I think he’s in his late forties, and I know that he likes to look at socks, Vicky. That’s why I always wear socks with my boots or sneakers, you know what I’m sayin’? I figure that if I wear socks in my shoes all the time it’ll help him to focus on my feet wherever we are, like say when he’s followin’ me to heel down the street, or somethin’, you know what I’m sayin’ Vicky? Believe me I’ve tried Vicky, but it don’t seem to make no difference – he’s still goin’ on lookin’ at other women’s socks on the street, you know what I’m sayin’?...’
‘Wow…I can see that you’re wearing a really cute pair of white sneaker-socks inside your sneaks today, Bronwyn!’ exclaims mistress Vicky, thereby ensuring yet again that the director in the gallery will order camera 4 to focus in on Bronwyn’s white socks and black sneakers at the bottom of the sofa!
The director also makes sure that mistress Vicky’s high-heeled, strappy sandals and pedicured toes are in shot at this point!
Bronwyn acknowledges to the chat-show host that she is indeed wearing cute, white socks inside her sneakers today – and implies that she is doing so for the benefit of her recalcitrant footslave:
‘That’s right, Vicky, and I always make sure my socks are visible to him, you know what I’m sayin’? That’s why I’m wearin’ white socks with my black sneakers and leggings that don’t cover my ankles and hide my socks, you know what I’m sayin’? Cos I know he likes lookin’ at girls’ socks, and I’m tryin’ my best to give him somethin’ good to look at, you know what I’m sayin’ Vicky? But he’s just a no-good dirty dog, Vicky! He’s a dirty slut! He still gets to lookin’ at other women’s socks, you know what I’m sayin’?...’.
The skilled hostess whips her audience up into a frenzy:
‘Wow! What a rat! What a dirty, stinking, low-down foot-pig! Maybe we should just call him ‘Sock-Slut’, or something? What do you think, guys? Is he a low-down, dirty sock-slut, or what?’
The audience collectively agree with their host’s assessment:
‘Yeah Vicky!... Yeah!... Whip the sock-slut!... Bring him on!’
The hostess, having raised the female rabble to a fever-pitch, next gets them to calm down again so that she can resume her gentle and sympathetic quizzing of poor, neglected Bronwyn.
‘So, Bronwyn, have you confronted your dirty slave about this?’
‘Vicky, I have confronted him so many times, you know what I’m sayin’? I’ve whupped him and scolded him and beaten him, you know what I’m sayin’? But he still denies everythin’ and insists that he would never look at another mistress’s socks without my permission, you know what I’m sayin’? But I know he’s lyin’ Vicky! I know he’s a dirty stinkin’ dirty-dog liar!...
‘OK – so wait a minute…so, let me get this straight: the dirty sock-slut is actually calling you, his mistress, a liar?’ asks the daytime show host incredulously, and deliberately provocatively.
The female audience go wild, baying for the footslave’s blood:
‘Bring the dirty slut on!... Whip him… Whip the dog!’
Mistress Bronwyn is more dignified in her response to the TV hostess’s provocative remark:
‘Well, he just denies bein’ a sock-slut, Vicky, you know what I’m sayin’? He ‘aint about to admit to nothin’, however hard I whup him, you know what I’m sayin’?’
The hostess has heard enough:
‘What do you say audience? Shall we bring on the dirty sock-slut and hear what he’s got to say for himself?’
The audience of women go wild again – standing up in their seats and totally impatient to see for themselves the dirty, low-down, disrespectful footslave in the flesh, so that they can shake their fists at him and hopefully even see his flesh being whipped at some point!
A smiling and laughing mistress Vicky finally gives in to the pressure from the baying, female crowd:
‘OK – Samantha, bring out the dirty foot-pig!’ she shouts over the din.
The show’s theme music starts up again, and a door opens stage left.
A terrified-looking, semi-naked male slave in his forties is led out into the lionesses’ den on his hands and knees by a pretty, young, ginger-haired floor manageress, who is wearing a bright, yellow T shirt with the letters ‘VR’ emblazoned on the front; scruffy, blue denim jeans; and yellow and white, lace-up sneakers with short, yellow sneaker-socks.
Somewhat ironically, given the theme of the show, as the slave crawls along the stage behind the floor-manageress to the accompanying boos, hisses and jeers of the female audience, he is obliged by law to stare at the back of the floor-manageress’s white and yellow sneakers and socks – until, that is, she deposits him at his own mistress Bronwyn’s feet next to the sofa!
Various angry young women in the audience are standing up and shouting obscenities at the kneeling footslave. The director will have to bleep a lot of them out (lucky the broadcast will be a recording!)
But those obscenities and insults which can be broadcast include:
‘Slut!... Whore!... Foot-dog!... Pig!’
The crowd go particularly mad when the object of their womanly ire humbly greets his mistress Bronwyn by hypocritically kissing her sneakers.
The hostess speaks out on behalf of all the women in the audience, expressing eloquently what they, and the millions of women who will be watching at home, no doubt are thinking:
‘Ha! Ha! Look at you now, slave! Not so clever now, are you? Ha! Ha! Grovelling for mercy at your mistress’s feet on national television! Ha! Ha!’
The commotion dies down as the disloyal footslave, pathetically, attempts to portray himself as a totally loyal footslave to his mistress and owner, mistress Bronwyn, by staring at and kissing her black sneakers and short, white sneaker socks on her fat, black ankles under the full glare of the cameras!
The pretty floor-manageress, still smiling for the cameras, exits stage left leaving just the trio of mistress Bronwyn, her grovelling personal footslave Edward, and the hostess, mistress Vicky, on stage.
Mistress Vicky leans down from her seated position beside her guest Bronwyn on the sofa, and shoves a microphone underneath the kneeling and penitent footslave’s face:
‘So, footpig! The dirty, disloyal sock-slut! You’ve heard what your beautiful, young mistress had to say while you were waiting backstage! What have you got to say for yourself, slut?’
Slave Edward, the sock-slut, foolishly attempts to justify himself:
‘Oh p…pray mistress, if it p…pleases you m…mistress Vicky, this slave has never looked at another woman’s feet or socks without p…permission, m…mistress!’
The idiotic, stuttering foot-fool then doesn’t particularly help his cause by stretching forth his scrawny, middle-aged neck in order to kiss mistress Vicky’s bare pedicured toes inside her shiny black, strappy, stiletto-heeled sandals!
His pathetic and cynical words and actions are greeted by an almighty jeer from the female audience and shouts of:
‘Liar!... Whip him!... Dirty, lying slut!... Kick him in the face Vicky!... Kick him to the kerb, Bronwyn!’
Miss Bronwyn just clicks her teeth and shakes her pretty, black head in disgust at her slave.
The hostess, having withdrawn her pedicured, celebrity toes from the guest-slave’s lips, tries to quieten down the audience again:
‘Wow! Wow! Give the pig a chance to grunt, everyone. Let’s hear what the slut has to say!’
But mistress Bronwyn can remain silent no longer:
‘Vicky, he’s lyin’! I‘ve seen him do it, you know what I’m sayin’? He is disrespectin’ me and my socks on a daily basis! He’s a no-good, dirty dog, you know what I’m sayin’?...’
She duly kicks slave Edward’s face away, as he is once again attempting to kiss his own, sweet mistress’s black, lace up sneakers .
The crowd applaud the poor girl supportively. They have never been so outraged! Not since the first segment of the show was recorded earlier that day on the theme of:
‘Vicky, my slave was a runaway, but now he wants to come back!’
But back to this afternoon’s recording, and mistress Vicky wants to hear more from the dirty, disrespectful slave who is allegedly disloyal towards his mistress’s socks and feet. It makes for great television – watching him squirm on air!
‘You heard your mistress Bronwyn, slave! Are you calling her a liar, or something?’
‘Oh p…pray, mistress Vicky. N…No mistress Vicky. God b…bless you mistress Vicky!’
‘Well, what is it then? Are you a dirty dog, or aren’t you? Aren’t her feet and socks good enough for you, or something? Don’t you admire your pretty, black mistress’s feet and socks? Do you think you are just too high and mighty to behave respectfully towards her sneakers and socks, or something?’
The stupid slave flounders desperately under the barrage of questioning from the skilled daytime-interrogatress, mistress Vicky. But he still foolishly seeks to p…proclaim his innocence:
‘Oh p…pray…m… mistress Vicky, if it p…pleases you m…mistress Vicky, this slave does truly adore and respect his m…mistress B…Bronwyn’s feet and socks, m…mistress Vicky...’
‘So why do you damn well look at other women’s socks when you are out on the streets crawling behind your mistress’s sneakers and socks, slut? That’s what I don’t get!’ mistress Vicky rudely interrupts him, with fake outrage for the benefit of the cameras.
The crowd applaud the TV host’s somewhat leading, but perfectly legitimate, question. Any mistress, after all, can ask a slave anything she wants!
And by law he must answer her!
‘Oh p…pray mistress. I don’t look at other m…mistresses’ socks, if it is pleasing to you m…mistress Vicky!’ protests the floundering slave as humbly and as convincingly as he can, although even he isn’t convinced by his faltering words.
The audience are certainly having none of it! They are up in their seats baying for the slave’s blood, as mistress Bronwyn continues to sit on the sofa, shaking her pretty head in disdain and disbelief:
‘How can you say that, slave? I’m tellin’ you I’ve seen you do it, you dirty, lyin’ pig!’
Vicky calms the audience, and miss Bronwyn, down again:
‘OK! OK everybody! Sit down!...Sit Down!…It’s time for y’all to meet our next special guest: let’s hear it for officer-mistress Julie from the Femina Police Department! Where are you, Julie? Come on out!’
The show’s theme music starts up in the background again as a pretty, smiling, blonde-ponytailed, uniformed female police officer enters stage right to rapturous applause and cheering from the female audience.
The pretty, young officer’s smart uniform consists of a crisp, white blouse; a navy blue neck-scarf; navy blue boot-cut trousers; and black leather, zip-up, chunky-heeled and round-toed, police-uniform ankle boots. Attached to a belt around her pretty waist are a standard-issue, brown leather, prisoner-punishment strap, and a set of steel handcuffs.
She looks truly awesome, and the male director in the gallery orders the camera to linger on the pretty officer for a few moments, especially focussing in on her black, ankle boots.
It’s a good call because the pretty police officer presents each of her booted feet for the accused, kneeling footslave to kiss before taking up her seat on the sofa beside the host, mistress Vicky, and her other guest, miss Bronwyn.
Again, the irony is not lost on slave Edward that he is expected, and indeed required, to kiss the feet of the female police officer (i.e. of another young woman) during a TV show in which he is being accused of being disloyal to his own mistress’s feet and chasing after other women’s feet!
Double standards? Not at all – there is nothing wrong in women’s eyes with a male footslave paying his humble footslavish respects to another woman when she enters a room. It’s just the constant lusting after other mistresses’ feet without his own mistress’s permission that they object to!
Just as well, therefore, that they couldn’t read slave Edward’s dirty mind whilst he was kissing the female police officer’s feet – for he was longing to see her black, police-uniform anklesocks inside her ankle boots as he did so!
Fortunately for him he couldn’t see them. He therefore resumed his humble staring at the elasticated tops of his own mistress Bronwyn’s sweet, white sneaker-socks.
Camera 4 once again focussed in on the sweating and worried-looking face of the footslave kneeling at his mistress Bronwyn’s sneakered and socked feet. After all, the slave had every right to be worried and to look perturbed. Why had officer-mistress Julie been invited onto the show?
The applause welcoming the pretty, female police officer died down, and the background music faded away as she settled down onto the sofa beside Vicky and Bronwyn.
‘Hi Vicky! How are you doin’? Hi Bronwyn!’ chirped the female cop happily.
At this point the elasticated tops of miss Julie’s black, police-uniform socks did become visible beneath the hems of her navy-blue, boot-cut trouser legs, and the director ensured that camera 4 picked them up (well, there would be sure to be lots of male slaves watching the show at home alongside their respective mistresses!)
Mistress Vicky picks up the police baton, so to speak:
‘Now, officer Julie, we contacted you to see if you could maybe help Bronwyn with her problem-slave. Tell us what you did!’
‘That’s right, Vicky! When you contacted us at the Femina Police Department we decided to investigate this dirty slave’s behaviour on behalf of his mistress, and so we attached a hidden camera into the hem of Bronwyn’s blue-jeans in order to monitor her footslave’s behaviour!...’
The female audience gasp, as does slave Edward, although unfortunately the camera didn’t pick his gasp up, as it was still focussed on police officer Julie’s ankle boots and socks!
Meanwhile mistress Vicky, who knew full well about the hidden camera, feigns shock and surprise:
‘Wow – a hidden camera! Cool!’
The pretty, blonde police officer goes on to explain how the camera works:
‘Well, Vicky, it’s a tiny camera like this one (she holds up a miniscule camera that looks no bigger than a drawing pin) that can be discreetly sewn into the hem of a lady’s trouser leg and used to track her footslave’s behaviour. If the dirty slave looks away from his mistress’s feet the camera will pick it up, and we’ve got him bang to rights!’
The audience, who had remained respectfully quiet whilst the police officer was talking, now burst out into raucous, female laughter and cheering! A smiling miss Bronwyn who had, of course, been in on the hidden camera stunt right from the start, joins in the female laughter and applause.
Only the male slave kneeling humbly at her sneakered feet looks quiet and subdued, though, to his credit, he is still staring dutifully at his black mistress Bronwyn’s white sneaker-sock tops, despite the fact that there are now two other pairs of pretty, female feet resting next to his bowed head on the floor – the stylish, strappy, black stilettos and bare, red-painted toenails of the host, mistress Vicky; and the black, zip-up, chunky-heeled ankle boots and plain, black bootsocks of the blonde-ponytailed, police officer-mistress, mistress Julie.
‘Wow!...’ exclaims the show’s hostess, miss Vicky, on behalf of her audience both in the studio and at home, in reaction to the female police officer’s revelations. ‘…We really wanna see that footage, don’t we guys?’
Everyone laughs and cheers at mistress Vicky’s witty pun! Miss Bronwyn even high fives her again on the sofa.
‘OK! Let’s do it! ...’, continues the hostess, ‘…Roll the tape!’
Some grainy video footage appears on a large screen at the back of the stage.
‘Talk us through it if you would please, officer Julie,’ requests the host.
‘Well, Vicky, this is an excerpt from when Bronwyn was having a coffee at the central train station in Femina. Here you can see that she is sitting on a raised bar-stool at the counter and the slave is kneeling on the floor beside her feet staring straight into the hidden camera which we had sewn into the hem of her blue-jean on her right leg – therefore we know that, at this point, he is obeying the law and concentrating on looking at his mistress’s ankle boots and socks whilst she enjoys her coffee..’
‘So far so good! Ya’ll can see that, can you folks?’ interrupts mistress Vicky.
‘Yes Vicky!’ confirm a number of female voices in the audience.
Bronwyn just smiles as she watches the playback. She remembers she was wearing her pointy-toed, brown leather, spike-heeled, zip-up ankle boots and navy-blue bootsocks on that particular morning.
Police officer Julie continues with her running commentary, however:
‘...But look what happens here, Vicky. You see that pretty, young Caucasian woman with the white keds and pink and white tube socks who is taking up her seat next to Bronwyn at the coffee-bar counter? Just watch what happens when she sits down and rests her sneakered and socked feet on the metal footrest of the bar-stool next to where Bronwyn is sitting!...’
Everyone, apart from slave Edward, is avidly watching the grainy footage from the hidden camera on the large screen to see what happened next. He can’t see it from his humble position. All he can currently see are his mistress Bronwyn’s black sneakers and white sneaker socks next to the sofa.
But he doesn’t need to watch the large screen. He knows what happened next. For he remembers doing it!
So he just desperately tries to focus instead on his mistress Bronwyn’s white sneaker-socks under the hot lights of the television studio as his wrongdoing is exposed for the whole Female Nation to see!
A separate ‘Reaction-Cam’ picks up his fear at his mistress’s feet as the whole studio audience suddenly rise to their feet in uproar! The hidden camera footage has just shown the hapless footslave’s eyes clearly wandering away from his own mistress Bronwyn’s brown, leather ankle boots and navy blue bootsocks in the coffee bar as he furtively glances over at the knee-length, pink and white tube socks and white keds on the neighbouring bar stool!
The director even freezes the hidden camera shot on the large screen to confirm the footslave’s offence!
There is organised chaos in the studio. Various female members of the studio audience are on their feet and shaking their female fists at the terrified and cringing footslave as he continues to seek solace in his mistress’s sneakers and socks at the base of the studio sofa!
Now he is seeking protection from the baying, female crowd in his mistress’s footwear!
‘Wow!’ exclaims the TV hostess in feigned surprise. ‘What a dirty, low-down dog! What a scum bag! What a rat fink!’
She is only putting into words what everyone else in the studio is thinking. That’s her job.
She looks down at the cringing footslave with a genuine look of disgust, however.
Meanwhile officer Julie continues to present her evidence to the Court of female opinion:
‘…And there’s more, Vicky!’
‘More?’ exclaims the hostess with fake incredulity.
‘Yep! This further footage was taken while Bronwyn was standing in line at her local grocery store…’
The large screen now shows another scene, presumably taken on the same day, with slave Edward initially staring dutifully at the spiked heels of his mistress Bronwyn’s brown leather, ankle boots, as he kneels dutifully behind her in the checkout queue – even though, it should again be noted to his credit, his mistress’s navy-blue bootsocks were this time hidden beneath the hems of her blue-denim jeans, the very hems in which the tiny camera was discreetly hidden!
After a few moments, however, his lustful, girlsock-obsessed eyes can yet again clearly be seen wandering over towards the scruffy, black and white, lace-up, high-top, converse sneakers and multicoloured, stripy socks of another black mistress who is standing in the queue.
The studio audience are outraged at the dirty footslave’s blatant and very public disloyalty towards his own charming young mistress Bronwyn’s feet and boots – all in broad daylight; in the middle of a grocery store; and captured on camera!
Slave Edward knows the game is up! He has been caught red-faced and red-handed!
As the studio cameras focus in on his shame, his only visible reaction is to start sobbing into his mistress Bronwyn’s plain, black, lace-up sneakers and short, white sneaker socks.
But no-one present feels any pity for him, and the TV host, miss Vicky, says it all:
‘There’s no point in sobbing into your mistress’s sneakers, dirty slave! Shouldn’t you be kissing them, and begging her for forgiveness and mercy?’
She’s right, of course, and slave Edward knows it! He immediately stops his pathetic, slavish sobbing and feverishly resumes kissing his mistress Bronwyn’s black lace-up sneakers and short, white sneaker-socks. It appears that he can’t stop shaking, however, and he seems to have been literally left speechless by events, for no belated, verbal apology is forthcoming from him, and no weaselly words emanate from his footslave-mouth, bleating for his mistress’s sweet, feminine mercy!
For her part mistress Bronwyn, seated above him on the comfortable, TV studio sofa, now has a smug and satisfied grin on her pretty, black face. She has been vindicated by the hidden camera, and now her disloyal, personal footslave is having to kiss her sneakered feet in shame on national television! She finds him pathetic and almost funny!
The audience, however, continue to be outraged on her behalf. The hostess leaves the sofa, and wanders amongst them with her microphone seeking out their comments and reactions to the damning, hidden-camera evidence:
‘What do you think mistress Bronwyn should do with her slave?’ Vicky asks one black woman who is even fatter than Bronwyn herself.
‘Bronwyn, you’re a lovely girl! You don’t have to put up with all that, girl! Kick that dirty foot-slut to the kerb, sister!’
A nearby white woman with dirty, greasy black hair and severe acne grabs the microphone:
‘I think she should throw the book at him, Vicky! Have him arrested and charged, innit? That’s just downright disrespect, that is. He’s been dissin’ you all along, girl!’
The rest of the audience seem to agree.
Vicky takes up that last point with the blonde police-officer, miss Julie, who is still seated on the sofa beside Bronwyn:
‘How about that, officer Julie? Has the slave actually committed a criminal offence? Can he be arrested and charged with anything?’
Miss Julie laughs:
‘Well, Vicky he certainly can. I can arrest him right here and now on suspicion of slavish neglect and disrespect for his mistress’s feet and footwear, if miss Bronwyn would like me to? The penalty is 6 months in the foothole dungeons and a public whipping in the central, town square of not more than 20 lashes. It really all depends on whether or not Bronwyn wishes her slave to be formally arrested and charged, or not!’
The audience clearly think that they know what Bronwyn should do, as various women shout out their words of sisterly advice:
‘Charge him, Bronwyn!... Have him charged!... Have him arrested and punished!... Don’t let the dirty dog get away with it!....He’ll only do it again to you, Bronwyn!...The dirty sock-slut!... Send him to the dungeons, Bronwyn! Have him whupped!’
Miss Bronwyn smiles nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed at being the centre of everyone’s attention again (she prefers it when the camera is concentrating on the dirty slave at her feet – putting him on the spot!)
Vicky intervenes to help strengthen Bronwyn’s sweet, feminine resolve. She must have an arrest on her show! Think of what it will do for the viewing figures!
She rejoins Vicky and officer Julie on the sofa centre-stage.
‘Ha! Ha! Well, Bronwyn, what’s it to be? Do we get officer Julie to formally arrest and charge the dirty sock-slut, or do we let him off scot-free?
Since the TV host has put it like that, Bronwyn finds it much easier to make up her mind:
‘I’d like him arrested and charged please, Vicky!’
The female studio audience rise to their feet with roars of approval and sustained applause at Bronwyn’s, not very difficult, decision.
‘Alright!... Alright!’ screams a delighted mistress Vicky, punching the air with her microphone as she rises up off the sofa once again.
In fact, only miss Bronwyn remains seated now, as blonde police officer mistress Julie detaches the handcuffs from the belt around her slender waist and moves over to where the footslave is still kneeling at Bronwyn’s feet in order to cuff his disrespectful footslave-hands behind his back.
The audience are laughing and cheering, but Vicky gestures to them to quieten down:
‘Shush everyone!...Let's listen in as officer Julie formally reads him his maleslave-rights! Ha! Ha!...’
The audience duly simmer down, and the camera focusses in on the kneeling footslave’s face which is now under arrest and having to stare at officer Julie’s smart, black leather, police-uniform ankle boots beneath the hems of her navy-blue, boot-cut trouser legs.
He still isn’t getting to see her police-uniform socks!
Officer Julie formally reads the male slave-prisoner his non-rights:
‘Slave Edward, I am arresting you on suspicion of slavish neglect and disrespect towards your mistress Bronwyn’s feet and footwear. You may not say anything in your defence, and anything you do say will be used against you in a Female Court of Law.’
The female audience erupt once more into hysterical, female cheers and applause as the young, slim and svelte, blonde-ponytailed police officer, mistress Julie, drags the trussed up and sobbing, pathetic, middle-aged footslave across the floor of the television studio behind her black leather, police-uniform ankle boots and out towards the right-hand stage exit where a Female Police van is waiting to take him away.
As the audience settle back down into their seats miss Vicky has one more surprise for her guest, miss Bronwyn:
‘OK folks, we don’t wanna leave our brave guest Bronwyn without a personal footslave for 6 whole months, do we?...’
‘No!... No!’ confirm the female audience.
‘... Right, so, Bronwyn, we’ve got a little surprise for you!...Samantha, bring him on!...’
Samantha, the pretty, ginger-haired floor manageress, re-enters from stage left with yet another footslave in tow behind her white and yellow sneakers and socks – only this one is a real hunk, young and strong looking, and done up with a pink bow on his head to make him look like he is an early Christmas present!
The audience cheer and stomp their pretty, feminine feet as the new, semi-naked slave-hunk is presented on his hands and knees at Bronwyn’s shy and modest, sneakered and socked feet.
The slave-hunk immediately makes a show of respectfully kissing his new mistress’s black, lace-up sneakers and short, white sneaker-socks on her fat, black feet.
‘Take him with our compliments, Bronwyn, and enjoy! He’s all yours, girl!’ declares mistress Vicky for the benefit of the cameras.
A beaming Bronwyn thanks and kisses her host, whilst the closing theme music strikes up and the female studio audience chants in unison:
‘Go Vicky!...Go Vicky!...Go Vicky!...Go Vicky!...’
The End
