Oriental Gynarchy
The Oriental Gynarchy (or ‘Sinarchy’, pronounced ‘Sai-Narchy’, to give it its official name; or ‘Chinarchy’, pronounced ‘Chai-Narchy’, to give it its vernacular name!) is a far-eastern offshoot of the glorious Gynarchy of Barbaria – geographically isolated from the rest of the great and good Gynarchy, and almost exclusively populated by mistresses and free males of Chinese origins, but nonetheless a recognisably Gynarchic society with all the usual trappings of a female-foot-dominated society:
· Imported, male slaves of various nationalities, shuffling around on their hands and knees behind their mistresses’ heels
· Lots of footkissing and bootlicking
· Numerous whip and chain shops
· Perhaps more heavy cangues, and fewer fixed-position, punishment stocks than in the western Gynarchy
· Certainly less linguistically diverse than the western Gynarchy; Chinese is very much the ‘dominant’ language in this Femdom oriental city-state, as one might expect!
I am just one of the aforementioned, fortunate, imported slaves, and my taskmistress is one of the, equally fortunate, imported migrant-worker mistresses – miss Jamini, who hails originally from India. My job is to lickclean the dirty, female streets and sidewalks of the Chinarchy (plus the office carpets and linoleum floors); my mistress Jamini’s job is to supervise me as I do so – and, in fact, to control and manipulate me as she does so, by means of a long, wooden neck-pole which is attached to the nerves in the back of my kneeling neck, and through which she can control my head and mouth movements.
Thus, she can make my street and floor licking mouth open and close at her will, simply by pulling a lever on the end of the pole which stimulates the nerve muscles in the back of my slave-neck, which in turn operate my mouth. My voice box has been disabled, meaning that I cannot speak – but nor do I need or wish to speak; my job is simply to lick clean the various surfaces on which my Sinese-Female betters walk, so I have no need to talk.
My demurely-headscarfed taskmistress Jamini can still talk, of course – though she has only a rudimentary grasp of Chinese; but she knows enough to get by (to be fair, she can’t even read or write her own native language of Punjabi).
I don’t just get to lickclean the ground on which my female, oriental betters walk; I also, from time to time, and again under the direction of my Indian-migrant mistress, get to kiss their actual boots and shoes – when they have trodden in something and require me to lick it off. All orders, in such circumstances, are conveyed in Chinese to my Indian taskmistress, of course – rather than directly to me, since I am too far beneath the mistress concerned to merit a direct approach. That’s why my mistress Jamini needs her rudimentary grasp of the Chinese language – to understand the Chinese mistress’s orders, and politely acknowledge them, before manipulating my head over towards the offending boot or shoe dirt and then opening my mouth to lick it off.
It is such an honour for me to lick Chinese-female boot and shoe - even though the fact that they have trodden in something is often viewed as a failure on my part, since it was my job to lickclean the dirty ground on which they have just walked in the first place! Hence my taskmistress Jamini’s second piece of equipment is the bull’s-pizzle whip – a short, stout, thick-girthed, black leathery whip made from a dried and rolled, bull’s penis, and used to punish or cajole me into better efforts on the ground on which she, and her fellow females (and, indeed, their freemale partners) walk.
The crowning joy of my existence is when I get to kiss my own, Indian taskmistress’s feet – for she is in the habit of wearing a cheap pair of black, faux-suede loafers with manky grey and red patterned, short, sneaker-style socks beneath her tapered, ankle-length leggings – socks which expose her smooth, brown-skinned anklebones to my unworthy gaze as I kiss the dusty, black, hardworking, loafer shoe-toes of the one who manipulates me, and beats me, on behalf of the free citizens of the Sinarchy; and who does it so well!
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It is still dark during the early-morning rush hour, and, as per usual, my Indian taskmistress and I are out on the streets of the oriental, city-State centre, lickshining the pavements (or rather, I am lickshining them, and my mistress Jamini is directing my mouth over the dirtiest areas of sidewalk). She has to demonstrate a lot of skill as she manipulates my head with the long, wooden neck-pole in amongst the many, rushing feet of my Sinese-female betters as they make their way into their own places of work – the offices; the shops; the banks; the municipal buildings etc.
One or two stop by us to have their commuter-feet kissed or lickshined. One young Chinese lady in particular is annoyed that she has trodden in something unpleasant a bit further down the street (where my tongue has not yet reached!):
‘Yǒu nǐ de núlì qīnglǐ wǒ de kāijī!’ she barks.
Like I said – I’m stupid; I don’t speak Chinese. But I do recognise the Chinese word for ‘slave’ in there – núlì – so I know she’s talking about me, and probably issuing orders for me to lick off the muddy, brown stain on the side of her otherwise pristine, black patent leather, zip-up ankleboot beneath her crisply-pressed, black-pinstriped, business-suit, trouser hem (to be honest, her tone of voice and female body-language give away the fact that it is an order to lick boot, since she stretches forth her pointy, stiletto-heeled, boot toe on the ground beneath my kneeling face).
‘Shì de, fūrén!’ replies my taskmistress Jamini, in her remarkably good Chinese accent.
I do know what that means – since I hear it so much! It means, ‘yes, madam!’
My neck is unceremoniously lowered over the sexy, Chinese boot-toe and the nerves in the back of my neck stimulated to open my mouth, so that my tongue may get to work on the unpleasant, offending mess on the side of the commuter-mistress’s ankleboot. As if to provide me with even more stimulation and encouragement to do a good job, my taskmistress Jamini unhooks her dreaded, bull’s-pizzle whip from her slender, Indian waistbelt and applies it, vigorously, two times to my bare and prostrate back – as much for the delectation of the Chinese bootmistress as for my benefit (for, thanks to the manipulation of the pole – my mouth has no choice but to lickclean dirty boot; taskmistress Jamini controls my head; I have no control over it!)
The mud tastes foul – as mud always does – but I nonetheless literally lap it up, partly because I have no choice; partly because I am, as ever, hungry (my taskmistress Jamini tends to blow the money she gets from the Female Oriental State for feeding me, on luxury items for herself and her Indian-migrant husband, believing, quite rightly, that I can just about survive on the food-debris and muddy rainwater I am required to lick off the dirty, female streets!). At least my belly is full of something – albeit a sweet Chinese girl’s bitter bootmud!
My back stings as the binary blows of the bull’s-pizzle whip have their desired effect of compelling me to lick the presented boot-side thoroughly clean; there shall be absolutely no danger of this particular, disgruntled, Chinese miss walking dirt onto the carpets of her opulent, Chinese office building. That dirt shall be where it belongs – inside my stomach!
She walks off without thanking me, or, more importantly, my taskmistress Jamini, for my humble, cleansing tonguework on her boot, but both myself and taskmistress Jamini are used to that. The dirty job has been done; there is nothing more to say!
I am recommenced lickcleaning the street – and eventually reach what I suspect to have been the pool of mud the frustrated, Chinese commuter-mistress originally walked in, for I recognise the tread of her boot in the mud! I therefore humbly eat up her treadmarks as my taskmistress Jamini ensures not a trace of dirt is left on the superior, female ground!
Meanwhile, I am surrounded by a plethora of passing female boots, shoes and even, on occasions, sandals – normally high-heeled and normally socked. I love sock-spotting on the sidewalk – catching the occasional glimpse of passing, female sock beneath oriental trouser-hems; primarily black sock at this time of day, of course; black sock above ankleboot-tops; black sock inside plain, black leather, businesslike loafers or ballet-flats; black sock inside business-pumps; or even, black sock inside commuter-girl sneakers (sneakers which will be changed for courts or pumps once the wearer has reached her office desk!)
Later on – when the tourists and shoppers hit the streets – there will be a greater variety of sock-colours surrounding me; everything from traditional feminine-white, to garish, multicoloured stripy-sock; to sweet feminine pastel-pink. And the outer footwear will change as well, from formal office shoes to their scruffier, casual counterparts – high-top sneakers, keds, uggs and the like. I love them all – just as I love my taskmistress Jamini’s cheap, faux-suede, black loafers and manky, grey and red sneaker-socks beneath her black cotton leggings (all I ever get to see of her!)
A number of female tourists will stop to have me lickshine their shoes or boots – even if they aren’t that obviously dirty; it’s a photo-opportunity for them, and my taskmistress Jamini is always happy to smilingly oblige them!
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It’s late morning now and we, or rather I, am mouth-vacuuming a dirty, office floor. My clever taskmistress Jamini has negotiated a contract with one of the local offices – meaning more money for her; more work for me; but at least it’s indoors (it’s quite bitter out there today, and, remember, apart from my flimsy, white slave shorts and my chains, I am stark naked!)
The only problem I have with mouth-vacuuming female, office carpets is that I am allergic to dust – not just female boot and shoe dust, but any kind of dust! And so I always end up with a sore throat, and there is the risk of my coughing and sneezing on the floor – which means a greatly increased risk of my experiencing the painful thud of the bull’s-pizzle whip on my bare back. It’s a great cure for a dust-allergy, since I am even more allergic to pain! And so – tickly cough in my dry throat or not – I suck up all the feminine, office boot and shoe dust in the office corridors where my Chinese betters walk, and again fill my stomach with dirty nutrients.
My neck is sore now from the constant manipulation of the pole, but the pleasing sight of my mistress Jamini’s grey and red, elasticated socktops creasing and folding below her shapely, brown anklebones with each and every manipulation of the pole helps to take my one-track-mind off the muscle pain in my neck!
I hope I shall get to kiss and smell those female-supervisory, Indian-girl, grey and red patterned, short sneaker-socks later in the day, for miss Jamini is wont to kick off her black loafers and put her feet up at the end of her shift, resting said socked feet on my upturned face whilst she enjoys a well-deserved and relaxing cup of female tea!
In addition to her contract with the office-building’s owners, miss Jamini earns tips from various female office-workers, by having me lickshine their officewear boots and shoes beneath their desks – usually whilst the office ladies are still wearing them (so I get to see sock close up) but, occasionally, I even get to lickshine the dirty, discarded sneakers used to commute into work! I love it when those sneakers are still warm and smelly from the female wearer’s commute into work, for my mistress Jamini often manipulates my nose into the tops of the unlaced sneakers – just to impress upon me that I am surrounded not only by the sight and taste of busy, oriental-female footwear, but also by the smell!
I have noticed, by the bye, that discarded, feminine sneakers that have been worn with (usually dark) nylons stink even more than those worn with socks, or even barefoot. Is that your experience too?
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No rest for the wicked! My saintly mistress Jamini and I have now moved on to a public female restroom, in the tourist quarter of the Oriental Female City, and so I am now, effectively, a human mop-head – tonguepolishing the dirty, germy, female-restroom floor so that it may be fit for my oriental betters to walk on. My taskmistress Jamini is very good at making my tongue lick out every nook and cranny of the restroom whilst my female betters continue to go about their business. It’s as if I wasn’t there; I’m just a thing – no better than a mop; and certainly nothing to be embarrassed about.
I catch a glimpse of an ornamental-footkisser colleague – his forlorn footslave-head kissing female restroom-customers’ dirty boots and shoes as they exit the facility. To be honest, he looks a bit green about the gills – but I am green with envy as a particularly charming oriental female presents him with her pointy-toed, stiletto-heeled, black leather, zip-up ankleboot for kissing (a bit like the one I had the privilege to lickshine earlier out on the street – though not patent leather). What makes me particularly jealous is that the young, Chinese woman has helpfully hitched up her black cotton trouser-hem in order to reveal her black cotton anklesock-top set against her smooth, feminine ankleskin!
I didn’t get to see bootsock when I was lickshining Chinese-female boot earlier this morning! That’s annoying!
Swish…Thud!
Ouch! My clever taskmistress Jamini has detected my wandering eye – attracted by siren sock – and is bringing me back to my cold, harsh reality of restroom, tiled floor by means of her bull’s-pizzle whip and a quick jerk on my neck-pole!
And rightly so!
At least I can lick where those black bootsocks have been walking – albeit inside the boots!
Yes - I have lots more work to do! The streets outside, though often described as ‘paved with gold’ (for the Oriental Gynarchy is very rich), are, in actuality, paved with dirt – and must be lickcleaned in time for the forthcoming, female, evening rush hour. My taskmistress Jamini wraps up warmly and pushes me with her pole out onto the cold and bitter Chinarchy streets again for my seemingly neverending task of keeping the pavements fit for a female to walk on.
Oh I am so looking forward to the smelly warmth of her socks on my face before she retires to bed for the night with her husband!
