Seven Scenes We’d Like To See!
Video evidence of life in the Gynarchy
My two, blonde-haired, identical twin mistresses – both wearing the same sexy outfits consisting of skimpy, yellow tops with grey jackets; frilly, black miniskirts; platform-soled, calf-length, heavily buckled, black leather, biker boots; and scrunched-up, calf-length, black cotton socks – are both standing behind me, and whipping me where I kneel in their back yard.
I can only tell them apart by the fact that blonde-mistress Melanie is whipping me from the right, whereas blonde-mistress Stephanie is whipping me from the left; that’s because blonde-mistress Stephanie is left handed.
Other than that my two, blonde mistresses are identical in every way:
· Identically vacuous
· Identically cruel
· Identically adept with their identical, rattan canes, causing me identical pain on both sides of my ribcage, with identical cuts and bruises
· Wearing identically smelling and tasting, black boots and socks on their identically-sized, smooth, white feet
· Identically better than me
How they love playing games with me, such as ‘guess the mistress’. Am I kissing the buckled biker-boots of mistress Stephanie or mistress Melanie? Am I nosing the scrunched-up, black bootsocks of mistress Melanie or mistress Stephanie? Am I washing the sweaty, bare, white feet of mistress Stephanie or mistress Melanie? (They even have identical moles on the shapely insteps of their left feet – so it is virtually impossible to tell whose superior feet I am humbly washing!)
Sometimes I guess right – and am spared the cane; sometimes I guess wrong – and get whipped. I suspect, however, that the accuracy of my answers is entirely dependent on the mood of my two, blonde mistresses at the time, since I have no way of knowing which is which, and whether or not they are being truthful when they mark my answers.
I only know for sure that the cane marks on my right flank are caused by mistress Melanie, whereas the identically sore cane marks on my left flank were delivered by mistress Stephanie.
Oh – and mistress Melanie is exclusively sleeping with master-sir Rufus; whereas mistress Stephanie is exclusively sleeping with master-sir Martin. Or, at least, that’s what the two, young women have told them!
Identical Twin Mistresses by patheticus on GoAnimate
My wealthy master-sir is punishing me by having me confined in the so-called 'ground-box' in the back garden of his large house. I am therefore kneeling below ground, with only my head and wrists protruding above ground through three, appropriately-sized, wooden holes – it's like a kind of ground-level pillory, designed to make me feel uncomfortable, vulnerable, and helpless, with my head at dust level, and therefore also level with the dusty feet and footwear of my masters and betters!
I have been confined thus for two days, in the stifling heat of the Gynarchy summer, and my master has decreed that I shall remain confined in the ground-box for a further three whole days and nights!
Meanwhile his 21 year old niece – the beautiful, slim and svelte, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, stuck-up and spoilt, punkish and rebellious, university student miss Tiffany, who is spending her summer holidays as per usual at her uncle's house – has ‘kindly’ come to torment me:
- She knows that my muscles are cramped and sore underground, and so she has deliberately positioned herself on a portable chair right in front of me, with her long, suntanned legs stretched out in the dust in front of my ground-level face
- She knows that my eyes are blinded by the bright sunlight as it reflects off the ground, and so she is wearing her sunglasses
- She knows that my head is hot and sweaty stuck in the ground, and so she is keeping her own head cool under the shade of her red baseball cap
- She knows that I like it when she wears her student-girl, black leather ballet-flats and plain black anklesocks beneath her student-girl, bright yellow, summer skirt and bikini (for I have oftentimes slavishly kissed her black ballet-flats and socks during her summer sojourn on her uncle's estate in between university term-times), and so she is instead wearing her beige-brown, spike-heeled, open-toed sandals on her bare, unpedicured feet
- She knows that I am thirsty, and so she is noisily sipping on a refreshing, ice-cold, fruit juice drink
- She knows that I am hungry, and so she has ostentatiously placed some delicious-smelling, chocolate ice-cream on a portable table next to where she is sitting
- She knows that, in the cruel absence of her black anklesocks, I am yearning to kiss and suck on her bare, unpainted toenails, in the forlorn hope of relieving my dry and parched lips with some of her salty footsweat, and filling my empty stomach with some of her sweet feminine toejam, and so she is deliberately resting her periodically wriggling toes just millimetres out of reach of my imprisoned, ground-level mouth; I can smell her wriggling toes inside her beige-brown leather, strappy, open-toed, spike-heeled sandals, but not touch them
- She knows that I am bored, and so she is deliberately ignoring me by reading a book and listening to music on her MP3 player
- She knows that I am exhausted, and liable to drift in and out of consciousness, and so she is periodically prodding my prone and vulnerable face with her spiked sandal-heels, to keep me awake and suffering
And why is she tormenting me thus? Not because she agrees with my punishment (or even knows why I am being punished), but because she can; because she has nothing better to do; and because she enjoys doing it.
All perfectly legitimate reasons, particularly since:
- She knows I'm just her uncle's dirty slave, and that she therefore has absolute, delegated power and authority over me, and can treat me however she damn well pleases, with complete impunity
My master-sir, her uncle, passes by, and enquires of her if everything is alright? She smiles back at him and assures him she is fine; she has never smiled at me – only laughed at me, and my maleslavish impotence. And when she does, eventually, get up to leave me alone in my ground-box, she will doubtless use her unkissed, unpedicured toes to contemptuously kick dust into my imprisoned, helpless face.
Oh how wonderful if must be to be young, rich, free and female in the Gynarchy! God bless you, miss Tiffany; and praise be to you! Truly I am in your selfish power and at your 21 year old mercy!
Confined in the Ground-Box by patheticus on GoAnimate
Sullen mistress Penelope is a bit of an odd fish!
Her 'thing' is to prowl the streets of the Gynarchy in the dead of night – armed with her stocky, thick-girthed whipping-stick – and to suddenly awaken sleeping, public footslaves from their slumbers with a demand that they kiss the deliberately scuffmarked and street-dustied, rounded toe-areas of her common-or-garden, plain black, low-top, lace-up, leather sneakers, whilst ensuring that just the merest hint of her plain grey, ultra-short, sneaker-sock top is showing above her black sneaker-rims, against the sexy backdrop of her smooth, white ankleskin and beneath her black and white striped, night-time, tracksuit bottoms.
As the rudely-awakened and frightened slave is fervently kissing her sneaker-toes, she will then ask him the self-evidently rhetorical question:
'Tell me slave, who is the master, and who is the slave?'
She will then proceed to beat the obedient slave with her stick!
She will do this come rain, hail or high-water. The Gynarchy authorities are well aware of her publicly indecent behaviour in the dead of night, but don't just turn a blind eye to it; they positively encourage it – for it all helps to keep the public footslaves in line. And no real harm is done – except to the slaves, who are physically and psychologically damaged by their post-midnight maltreatment!
I mean, imagine trying to sleep at night knowing that prowler-mistress Penelope may be wandering the streets with her whipping-stick again!
Turning a Blonde Eye by patheticus on GoAnimate
What I like about the fat customer-mistress, and her equally rotund freemale partner, is their total disregard for me, exhibited in the following ways:
· The fat mistress is wearing an unfetching pair of dirty-yellow crocs on her cankles, whilst her purple, calf-length leggings only serve to highlight the cellulite on her shamelessly exposed, fleshy, white calf-muscles.
· Both the mistress-madam and accompanying master-sir are noisily stuffing their faces with takeaway food, whilst I am, as always, going hungry
· The master-sir barks their orders down at me with his mouth full: ‘Slave, lickshine my girlfriend’s dirty, yellow crocs!’
· They then continue eating; and burping; and farting above me, as I dutifully, and respectfully, attend by mouth and nose to the fat mistress’s unappealing footwear
· They don’t care that I find the mistress generally ‘unappealing’; indeed, they don’t even notice – given how respectful I am of all my female customers and their male consorts, and how good I am at hiding any personal distaste I may have for them
· When I have finished my humble work – and the mistress’s crocs are suitably tongue-shined and divested of their street-dirt – they finish their burgers and fizzy drinks above me, and then litter my public shoelick-stall by dropping the empty food wrappings and cartons down around my face (even though there is a nearby trash can!)
· The have first made sure to lick every last vestige of food from the wrappings, so all I benefit from is the lingering smell of their food (and their farts)
· The inside of my hungry mouth, therefore, continues to be flavoured only by the residual taste of the fat mistress’s dirty, yellow croc-plastic
· She wipes the food-grease from her lips and picks her teeth, whilst the master-sir picks his nose and wipes it on my bald head, before each emitting a final belch and then moving off to buy yet more junk food, safe in the knowledge that their fat bellies will soon be even fuller, and that they have just been publicly respected by a much lesser being – a scrawny and emaciated, backstreet, public footslave
Total Disregard by patheticus on GoAnimate
The South Korean tourist-girl is taking a picture of me in the public kneeling-stocks with her cellphone-camera.
She is carefully measuring up the shot, and inspecting the result before clicking on the button. Her face is pretty – not malicious – and I’m initially unsure whether she is photographing me out of sympathy, in order to raise a campaign for my pardon and freedom; or whether she is enjoying the shot, and plans to use it as masturbatory material later on in the privacy of her hotel room.
All soon becomes clear when she smilingly asks a freemale passer-by to take a picture of her sitting over me in her tall, black kneesocks – her black canvas, low-topped, flowery-laced sneakers resting on the ground on either side of my imprisoned face as she seats herself down on the heavy, wooden crossbeam over my neck. Her black socks are creased up with laughter at me around her shapely, Korean anklebones, and at the thought that she may have had any sympathy for me. For their mistress is a so-called ‘slave-spotter’, who gets her kicks out of photographing herself tormenting public footslaves throughout the Gynarchy.
She is, in other words, a ‘tourist-tormentress’, much welcomed by the Gynarchy Tourist Board for the extra foreign revenue she, and her like, bring to the country’s coffers; and I am merely her latest victim!
Another Tourist-Tormentress by patheticus on GoAnimate
Even though my black mistress’s mother – Madam Ethel – is in her early fifties, bespectacled, frumpish and somewhat portly, my mistress and master-in-law, quite rightly, still expect and require me to show proper, footslavish respect to her white shoes whenever she visits them in their home…
Respecting One's Elders by patheticus on GoAnimate
Entertaining the ladies…
Centre Stage by patheticus on GoAnimate
