Powerfully Pregnant
I’m so excited!
Blonde, office goddess-mistress Sally is soon to go off on maternity leave, and she now looks more radiant than ever as she sits imperiously above me in the office-corridor, shoeshine-seat of power, her feet resting arrogantly on the footblock in front of my face.
The only discernible difference is that she is now wearing white flats on her feet, along with her familiar tan-coloured stockings and knee-length, grey and white pinstriped, pencil skirt; before she became heavily pregnant she always used to wear heels around the office – delicious-looking and tasting, shiny, black, high-heeled pumps which I would have happily licked for hours!
But flats are ok too; flats are good – especially such a nice, musty-smelling pair of plain, white flats on her mum-to-be, rounded-toe areas.
I, of course, verbally grovel and fawn to mistress Sally, in between lickshining her musty, white ballet-flats:
‘Oh pray mistress Sally…lick…lick…if it pleases you mistress Sally…lick…lick...lick…truly this slave is honoured and blessed to lickshine the fecund mistress’s white, office shoes, mistress….lick…lick…lick… if it is so pleasing to you, most beautiful mistress Sally madam …lick…lick…?’
‘Ha! Ha! Will you miss me then, slave, when I go on my maternity leave?’
‘Oh pray, mistress…lick…lick… Oh pray!...lick…lick…lick…Oh yes, mistress…lick…lick…lick…with all my being, mistress Sally…lick...lick...lick…if you would be so kind and understanding to a lowly, office footservant, madam….lick…lick...lick…lick…?’
‘Ha! Ha! What a schmuck! What a clunk! Ha! Ha!...But tell me though, slave, what do you reckon to my new flats? Do you like them, though?’
She pushes me in the mouth with the, slightly scuffmarked but now slave-saliva-sodden, soft, rounded toe of her right, white ballet-flat, forcing me to temporarily stop licking her shoe in order to deliver an immediate verbal response to her query. I can’t help noticing a tiny crease forming in her shimmering, tan-nylon stocking just below her still shapely, right anklebone as she does so:
‘Oh yes, mistress Sally, if it pleases you mistress Sally, this slave adores the taste and the smell of the mistress’s soft, white ballet-flats on his unworthy lips, if it would be so pleasing to you most beautiful and superior, pregnant mistress madam?’
‘Ha! Ha! I’m glad to hear it, slave! Get used to them, for these are what I’ll be wearing to the office from now on until I go on leave next month. My feet are killing me!’
‘Yes mistress Sally. Thank you, mistress Sally. God bless you mistress Sally.’
I resume licking her white flats on her feet. Presumably she finds juggling her work at the office and impending motherhood extremely tiring on her feet, and I suppose it can’t be very practical being an office floozy flirting around in high-heels anymore!
So flats it is from now on! I don’t mind – and even if I did there would be nothing I could do about it! An office-mistress’s footwear choices are entirely her own, and are certainly not made with a raggedy-assed office-footslave’s preferences in mind!
Another, heavily pregnant, young office-lady enters the shoeshine-corridor of power – the Indian girl, miss Priya, from the Publicity Department. Although every bit as stunningly beautiful as blonde miss Sally, who is still seated imperiously above me, miss Priya’s bump is not yet showing as much as her blonde counterpart’s, and the brown-skinned beauty is therefore still relatively comfortable walking in heels – her shiny, black, office pumps (albeit with slightly lower heels than miss Sally’s had been!).
The two women embrace above me, and I am suddenly forgotten about as they chat happily about babies and the forthcoming joys and stresses of motherhood. I nevertheless continue to lick blonde-girl ballet-flat, out of respect for her superior, young-womanly fecundity.
Eventually miss Sally kicks my face away with the rounded toe of her white flat – making sure to scrunch up her expectant toes inside, less she damage them during the slave-facekicking process – and climbs down from the raised chair, only to be replaced by the stunning Indian girl.
White, office ballet-flats are replaced by black, office pumps – sadly, however, not on my mouth, but on my neck, as miss Priya elects merely to ‘rest her weary feet’ on the nape of my metal-collared neck, rather than have a public shoeshine!
And a very comfortable footrest I must make too, for the pregnantly pretty miss Priya and her immaculately shiny black shoes, as her heels dig mercilessly into my kneeling neckflesh!
No wonder they’re both laughing at me – two beautiful, young women, both pregnant with power!
The two young mums-to-be eventually take their leave of me without a word of thanks for the humble foot-service I have just provided for them. But I don’t expect to be thanked – I’m just an officer-corridor, communal footslave. And all their natural, nurturing instincts are now, understandably, reserved for their foetuses, and their manly and potent husbands who gave them those foetuses, leaving me to suffer under their equally natural, female-dominant instincts towards the submissive and impotent male.
My only role in life is to be an office shoelicker and/or footrest for other men’s wives. And that will never change – even after the young, married women give birth and return to their place of work following their respective periods of maternity leave!
Yes, powerfully pregnant, young women – don’t you just love ‘em? Whatever their body-shape and ethnicity. They represent the pinnacle of young-womanhood, and are all deserving of our undying, male-footslavish humility and respect!
