Patheticus Minimus 3D

30 year old slavemistress Sally-Anne, and her 65 year old husband Victor, were seated side by side on their veranda – she in her casual jeans and T shirt; he in his formal, businessman suit – sipping champagne as they surveyed the great wealth of their rubber plantation in front of them. Both white master and black mistress were feeling aroused – he because he had just taken some Viagra; she because she had just whipped one of the lowly field hands for poor performance. The lazy, whipped slave was suffering, meanwhile, in the so-called ‘recovery’ stocks directly below the balcony on which his masters and betters sat, the freshly-made whip-wounds glistening on his sunburnt, white back in the southern Gynarchy’s, late-evening, summer sunshine. Master Victor laughed at the sight and sound of the still-sobbing, whipped-by-his-pretty-young-black-wife, field hand down below: ‘Ha! Ha! You certainly gave him a good working over, Sally-Anne darling! You worked his lower ribs a treat, my

Some public footslaves will try to tell you, privately, that all customer-mistresses are ‘bitches’; that they are always moody and arrogant; that they do nothing other than despise you as you attend to their feet and footwear in public; that they are constantly seeking any excuse to have you whipped for their own delectation and aggrandisement. But I say that just isn’t true! Indeed, I feel that I can have quite cordial relationships with some of my customer-mistresses on my provincial, town-square, public bootlick-stand. Take my last three customers this busy afternoon – all of them regulars; all of whom just so happen to be black; and all of whom just keep on coming back for more! You tell me if you think they are truly ‘bitchy’, or just strong, young, black women of the Gynarchy, deserving of my male-slavish respect and attentiveness… Local Estate-Agent, Mistress Cisely The first of the three ‘sample’ mistresses I would refer you to is customer-mistress Cisely – a beau

I count myself exceptionally lucky to be the personal footslave of a beautiful, if somewhat flat-chested and skinny, 22 year old, brunette mistress – mistress Anne (‘Annie’ to her friends, but most definitely ‘mistress Anne’ to me). I count myself lucky for the following reasons: · My mistress Anne always wears nice boots and socks beneath her black, bootcut, officewear slacks; she may only be an office junior, but she sure does dress to impress, as evidenced by the way she turns freemale heads wherever we go, despite her skinniness and lack of ample bosoms; · Although her black, office anklesocks are, for the most part, hidden throughout the day, she permits – indeed requires – me to perpetually think about her socks; to imagine what they must be looking and smelling like inside her warm and hot, chunky-heeled, round-toed, black leather, zipped-up, office ankleboots as she goes about her daily business – the gathering creases in the black cotton sock material ; the gathering sw

The fourth volume in a collection of essays chronicling the experiences of humble footslaves, both public and private. VOLUME 4 CONTENTS (scroll down for chronicles in reverse numerical order) 10. Innocent Questions 9. Turkish Delight 8. Sox or Sex? 7. The Professional, Hindu-Girl Whippersnapper 6. Mistress Charlotte’s unremarkable (but very much admired) blue and grey, stripy, anklelength bootsocks 5. Me, Me, Me 4. In The Recovery Stocks 3. Bullying Bertha 2. Bubbly Beth 1. The Irish Girl’s Ankleboot-Nuzzler ……………………………………………………………………………………… Chronicle no. 10 – Innocent Questions 25 year old miss Hayley is from out of town. From outside the Gynarchy, in fact – England, I believe. I know her name, age and ethnicity only because I overheard the slave-merchant, master Abdulla sir, talking to her above my head, before he left her to examine the goods (me) in some peace. Master Abdulla does not believe in pressure-selling techniques; he very much believes tha