Patheticus Minimus 3D

More glimpses of daily life in the glorious Gynarchy of Barbaria   1. Magnificent Mistress Millicent Magnificent mistress Millicent – the tall, black girl from Despatch – towers over me like a veritable, female colossus as she sits above me on the office-corridor, shoelick-throne of female power, having her black leather, zipped-up, chunky-heeled and round-toed ankleboots dutifully lickshined. Magnificently, she has hitched-up her black cotton, trouser hems to reveal the elasticated tops of her plain, black, ankle-length bootsocks; Magnificently, she insists that I keep my eyes off her socks (and the pleasing backdrop of her soft, brown legskin) and that I concentrate fully on her black bootleather; Magnificently, she is having me kiss her boots 100 times – on the slightly scuffmarked, rounded toe-areas – before I give them a leisurely lick and a shine (for magnificent, mistress Millicent never seems to be overly-burdened with urgent work in Despatch!); Magnificently, she has

Arguably his best story yet! Here is the latest contribution from regular reader, slave Paul, complete with illustrations. Enjoy! No Contest! By Slave Paul The sheer humiliation of his unholy and demeaning predicament was almost impossible to comprehend, for him anyway. He simply knelt alone on the highly polished wooden floor of the stylish third floor apartment, quietly sobbing and trying to work out where it had all gone so wrong. Until quite recently everything was going so well. He had a beautiful young girlfriend, a good job, and a very trendy, stylish, modern apartment. This was the self-same apartment he now knelt in as a broken wreck of a man! Three months previously, life could not have been better. The young couple had both been given pay rises and had a very active social life. His girlfriend, Sandra, was a very lively and intense character who enjoyed going out in the evenings to wine bars with friends and active holidays etc. He simply doted on her; everything she wa

More glimpses of daily life in the glorious Gynarchy of Barbaria   1. Her Knight in Shining Armour I was dutifully, and silently, kneeling next to my mistress Aveline’s feet as she sat on a bar stool in a hamburger joint, eating her burger. I was, as always, focussing on and admiring my 23 year old, white mistress’s brown leather, slip-on loafers and her white, rib-topped, crew socks – particularly the tiny, triangular slither of grey sock which was just visible at the back of her right heel (the one nearest to my kneeling face) below her designer-tatty and frayed, blue denim, jean hem. I was, in short, behaving the way a personal footslave should do in public with his auburn-haired, personal footmistress – ignoring his own hunger, and sublimating his starvation by concentrating on his mistress’s feet and footwear. But that wasn’t, it seems, good enough for a nearby free man. Without warning, he jumped off a neighbouring bar stool and clipped me hard across my kneeling earhole –