Confronted by Colombian-Female Wisdom

The soft-faced, but slave-hardened, 25 year old, Colombian cleaner-mistress – clad in her customary cleaner’s uniform of pale blue tabard, and dark blue denim jeans, with scruffy, white, low-top, slip-on sneakers and almost hidden, pale grey sneaker-socks – drops me some sweet feminine pearls of wisdom as she mops around (but not on) my fevered brow whilst I kneel confined, and in pain, chained by the neck to the ladies-restroom, male-punishment pillory.

She begins by commenting on my freshly-whipped back:

‘Ha! Ha! Slave back sore? Whipped?’

‘Yes, mistress Carmen; if it pleases you mistress Carmen, madam.’

‘Ha! Ha! I like! Whip good – keep slave low and in pain! Ha! Ha! You broken! Ha! Ha!’

‘Yes, mistress Carmen. Thank you, mistress Carmen madam.’

She moves her right sneakered-foot over to the freshly-mopped floor directly beneath my lips:

‘You kiss miss Carmen foot, whipped slave!’

‘Yes, miss Carmen. At once, miss Carmen!’

She’s right, you see – the sting of the female whip has broken me!

She notices my eye movements as I obediently, and repeatedly, kiss her extended, flaky-white, sneaker toe:

‘Ha! Ha! You like miss Carmen grey socks inside white sneakers, slave?’

There is no point in denying it – I do admire her short, grey socktops; they look so well-worn and bobbled, set against her soft and suntanned, almost flawless, Colombian-girl ankleskin:

‘Oh yes, mistress Carmen, madam. Very much so, madam. If you will forgive me, madam?’

‘Ha! Ha! I like you like miss Carmen sock! Lady sock better than lady stocking, because it remind humble slave you a slave of lady foot; not lady leg, isn’t it?’

It’s truly a pearl of wisdom, delightfully delivered in broken English and with a thick, South American accent, by the Colombian cleaner-mistress, for, as a public-restroom footslave, I have no business above my female customers’ ankles.

I praise and bless miss Carmen for her young-womanly wisdom:

‘Oh pray, mistress Carmen! Oh yes indeed, goddess-mistress Carmen madam. You are quite right, esteemed mistress-madam!’

Everyone likes to be praised and told they are in the right – even by a humble footservant. She smiles:

‘You kiss me on sock now, slave. Show miss Carmen sock respect. Not touch skin – only sock!’

‘Yes, miss Carmen. At once, miss Carmen. Thank you, miss Carmen.’

Kissing the top of a short, grey, narrow (and somewhat misaligned) strip of grey cotton, sneaker-sock along the side of a Colombian cleaning-girl’s outstretched, sneakered foot, is an altogether trickier process than kissing the relatively large expanse of a Colombian cleaning-girl’s flaky, rounded, white leather sneaker-toe. Especially when one’s trembling lips are forbidden to brush against Colombian-female ankleskin! But I persevere – partly because I want to kiss the soft and inviting-looking, plain grey sock; partly because I fear the sting of even more whipping on my bare back if I fail to obey the clever, Colombian cleaner-mistress!

She giggles at the feel of my ticklish lips on her short-sock elastic:

‘That right, slave. You show respect for Colombian-girl sock. I better than you; all women better than you! Ha! Ha! You nothing but a whipped sock-kisser of women! Ha! Ha!’

Again – another pearl of wisdom from the seemingly naïve and uneducated, Colombian toilet-cleaner mistress. Perhaps she has a female degree in Femdom from the Gynarchy University, after all? She certainly deserves an honorary degree, for this young lady is, undeniably, my infinite better!

I seek to convey such worshipful thoughts through my diligent kissing of her socks – both of them, since she smugly switches sneakered feet beneath me, before, eventually, resuming her mopping.

Confronted by Colombian-Female Wisdom by patheticus on GoAnimate

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