Gynarchy Life Volume 9
1. A Gynarchy Gloater
23 year old miss Chun Hua loves touring the Gynarchy’s dungeons (which are open to the female public), and gloating over the unfortunate and helpless male slaves in their cells:
And having them kiss her pretty, Chinese feet through the rusty bars of their dungeon cells:
Get a whiff of her free foot in your ugly, imprisoned face…
…whilst her own pretty face mocks you and laughs down at you!
She hasn’t even pedicured her toenails for you! You’re just a slave – not her boyfriend!
2. Wonky Stocks
As she observed me freshly confined in the wonky kneeling stocks in the midst of my gloomy male-prison cell, 20 year old, blonde prison-visitor mistress Rebecca gleefully informed me that I would be sure to be begging for release within the next 30 to 40 minutes or so, as it had been scientifically proven (by the Gynarchy’s torture-scientists, apparently) that the enhanced curvature of the spine and muscle pressure imposed on a helpless prisoner-slave by the cruel wonkiness of the stocks exacerbated the incumbent’s pain and suffering fourfold, and four times as quickly, as compared to a regular set of kneeling stocks.
As per usual, the young, but experienced, prison-visitor mistress Rebecca wasn’t wrong! Indeed, after just 20 minutes of confinement in the wonky stocks my muscle spasms were so acute I was indeed begging to be released, and ferociously endeavouring to supplicate-kiss pretty visitor-mistress Rebecca’s blue and white, low-top canvas sneakers, and navy-blue anklesocks, beneath her student-girl, blue and white-striped, tracksuit-bottom hems in an effort to elicit sweet feminine compassion and mercy in her – even though the very act of straining my mouth forwards to kiss her outstretched sneaker-toes augmented terribly the already painful spasms in my unnaturally distorted back, neck and shoulders!
She just laughed at me, and told me that she had told me so! She then filmed my warped pleas for clemency on her personal mobile phone, for the benefit of her friends and family whom, she said, loved hearing about her part-time job as one of the Gynarchy’s civilian tormentresses, and witnessing the results of her interesting work in the underground prisoner-slave cells, before gaily reminding me that, because I was being confined in the stocks as a punishment, and not to elicit information from me (if it had been the latter, I would unhesitatingly have told her everything she demanded to know – so great was my pain) , there was nothing she could do to relieve my symptoms. I had been sentenced to a full 4 hours in the wonky stocks – and a full 4 hours it would be. She would make damn sure of that – after all, she was here on a purely voluntary basis!
She then stopped filming me, and settled herself down on the observation bench directly in front of the wonky set of low-lying stocks – with her blue-and-white-sneakered feet outstretched and resting nonchalantly on the dirty cell-floor in front of my contorted face, girlishly crossed over at the shapely, navy-blue-socked anklebones, but frustratingly just out of reach of my quivering, bleating mouth.
I have to say, I was somewhat embarrassed at my involuntary and unmanly bleating in front of such a beautiful, young blonde woman – caused by the intense agony in my wonky back and neck muscles – and half-hoped that regular prison-visitor miss Rebecca too would be so annoyed by my moaning and groaning that she might use her scuffmarked, white rubbery sneaker-toes to stop my mouth from crying out. At least then I would get to taste a superior and free young woman’s day-to-day sneaker rubber! But, unfortunately for me, volunteer visitor-mistress Rebecca actually likes the sound of a male prisoner-slave suffering; that’s precisely why she is so good at her voluntary role!
And so her beautiful, civilian sneakers and socks remained at a distance from me, and I had no choice but to grimace and bear it for 4 excruciating hours under her mocking and uncaring gaze – the sheer agony of the prison-cell wonky stocks!
The elusive sneakers – so near, and yet so far, from my suffering face:
The even more elusive navy-blue sock – with its soft, ribbed stitching!
3. Masteria
Tucked away in a far northern corner of the Gynarchy is a rather esoteric little autonomous region known as ‘Masteria’, where the cultural norms are a little bit different from those in the rest of the mainland Gynarchy:
· Firstly, there are no publicly owned slaves – only privately owned
· Secondly, whilst all slaves are male, and there are both free women and free males making up the remainder of society (in common with the rest of the Gynarchy), all free persons are referred to as ‘master’, regardless of gender. Thus the word ‘mistress’ is never used. It’s something to do with an egalitarian philosophy amongst the free populace which does not distinguish between the sexes
· Thirdly, again in line with the egalitarianist philosophy of ‘Masteria’, a privately owned slave is forbidden to ever address any of his masters, even the one who personally owns them, by their name. Thus, for example, my personal ‘master’ and owner – a beautiful, plump, 30 year old woman by the name of ‘Karen’ must never be addressed by me as ‘Master Karen’, but just as ‘Master’ – in common with the way I must address any other free person with whom I come into contact, and whose name I don’t know. Likewise her husband – Stewart – must only ever be addressed by myself as ‘Master’; not ‘Master Stewart’; or ‘Master Stewart Sir’; or any other such combination as may pertain on other parts of the mainland Gynarchy. Just plain ‘Master’, as if he were the equal of his wife and my legal owner.
· Similarly, as I earn my master, and her husband, a good living by lickshining other free persons’ shoes out on the streets of Masteria, I must address all my customers, be they regulars whose names I happen to know, or strangers whose names I do not know, as simply ‘Master’. Not ‘Master Sir’; or ‘Mistress Madam’; or even ‘Master Madam’ or ‘Female Master’, or any such combination as may be utilised elsewhere in the Gynarchy. Everyone is to be addressed as just plain ‘Master’, since they are all equally my masters.
· You will notice too that the term ‘Master’ is capitalised in Masteria (when used to address a master, male or female) unlike elsewhere in the Gynarchy!
· Free persons of both sexes are only permitted, under the Laws of Masteria, to speak down to slaves in an unfriendly and abrupt manner, and then it must either to bark their orders down at them; or to admonish them; or to mock and humiliate them. ‘Normal’ conversation between masters and slaves is prohibited by law in the enclave of Masteria.
· Another quirk of the local culture in Masteria, is that slaves are forbidden by law to ever think about their masters above the ankle. Thus a slave may only ever look a master, male or female, in the foot, and must take notice of any footwear that a master with whom he comes into contact is wearing on his or her feet – their boots; their shoes; their socks; their sandals; or their footskin (if they are barefoot). A slave in Masteria must never look at a master above the ankle – and looking a master in the eye is punishable by death (Masteria is the only region of the Gynarchy that still has the death penalty!). Thus, I have never seen my master Karen’s face, and know and recognise her only from the shape, texture and smells of her feet and footwear. I don’t actually know if she’s pretty or ugly, though out of slavish respect for her I, of course, think of her as being pretty. She certainly has beautiful, soft feet and ankles, if a little plump!), and wears nice black leather, flat-heeled, laced-up ankleboots and thick, grey bootsocks most of the time (being located in the far north of the Gynarchy, the climate of Masteria tends to be cold and/or wet for most of the year, and most of the free population wear boots and socks, most of the year round. Masteria slaves like myself, of course, only get to wear our rusty chains and white slave-underpants, in common with male slaves in most of the rest of the Gynarchy – whatever the weather!)
· A slave in Masteria must always appear fearful of his masters – never happy; or confident; or relaxed. Any demeanour other than that of a fearful, cringing slave at the feet of his masters is punishable by the whip!
· Paradoxically, when undergoing the whip for not appearing to be fearful enough (or for any other reason, for that matter) a Masteria slave must take the pain with stoicism, and not cry out or make any noise; not even an involuntary grunt. The slave must suffer the outrageous sting of the whip in total, abject silence (or ‘with humility and resignation’ as the Law puts it), and if he does make a sound under the lash, that lash is repeated, until the slave doesn’t cry out. It puts a whole new meaning on the phrase ‘suffer in silence’! Any slave who foolishly goes so far as to beg for mercy under the whip will, again, face the death penalty. The only concession is that a slave may legally ‘grimace’ with the pain, so a pained expression on one’s punished face is perfectly acceptable (and, to be honest, unavoidable, when one’s master is adept at applying the whip as my master Karen is!)
So, how does this all work out in practice? Well, here is a snapshot of my typical day in The ‘Autonomous Gynarchial Region of Masteria’, to give it its full name:
· I awake at my master’s plump feet at the foot of her bed which she shares with her husband, and must silently await for my master herself to awake from her slumbers
· As soon as she stirs, I must kiss her bare feet, twice on each bare big toe, and greet her with the words ‘Good morning, master. Please don’t beat me, master’.
· I must likewise respectfully kiss and greet my master’s husband’s feet when he stirs
· I must then follow my female master to heel whilst she performs her morning ablutions and gets ready for work (she works in an office of some sort up in the city centre of Masteria)
· I must then await her instructions as to which specific boots and socks she wishes me to put onto her feet that day, though they are invariably her black, ankle-length, lace-up DMs and thick, grey bootsocks (incidentally, every commandment and order from a master must be verbally responded to with a ‘Yes, master’ by a slave in Masteria; nothing more; nothing less)
· I am not required to dress my male owner’s feet; just afford him appropriate respect, as I am the footslave of his wife.
· I then follow my female master to booted heel down towards the local bus station where she chains me to the public-footlick stand she and her husband own, and where I must lick shoes and boots all day in order to supplement their income. I have never been permitted to accompany my female master to her own place of work, which is why I am not sure of the type of office she works in, or what exactly her work-role is. I must say, though, that parting with my female master’s boots and socks is always difficult each workday morning, as I would very much like to have the humble opportunity to shadow her boots and socks throughout the day, and observe them in action as she goes about her daily business above me. Today, for example, I would particularly concentrate on her grey socktop-creases beneath her black-pinstriped, office trousersuit hems as she is seated at her office desk, and be intrigued by her socks.
· But, instead I must concentrate and focus on the boots and/or shoes, and socks, of my female customers – be they regulars or strangers. And, as I have explained earlier, each and every one of them is to be treated equally as my ‘master’.
· Thus when a petitely-built, regular customer-mistress of Indian origins, miss Paramjit, steps up to my footlick pitch and stands, hands on hips, with her right foot extended onto the well-worn, wooden footblock beneath my chained and kneeling face, I await her brusque orders (which are, as per usual, to ‘shine my boots’), before responding with a respectful ‘Yes, Master’, and then immediately getting my tongue down onto her thick, rounded, black leather, reinforced boot-toe (master Paramjit is some sort of security guard, therefore in uniform, which is mainly navy-blue, and invariably in a hurry to get to work where she tends to do the early shifts.) Master Paramjit sometimes, helpfully, hitches up her blue, uniform trouser hems, so I sometimes get to see her white socktops, which look nice set against her soft, brown, Indian-girl, upper ankleskin. But, sadly, not today. Whenever she does deign to show me her socktops, I wish I could sniff them! But I am not permitted to sniff sock in public; only in private – and then only the socks of my female master Karen.
· My next customer is a blonde stranger – East European, judging by her accent – whose name I don’t know, but she too is treated with equal respect to one of my regulars, and is addressed by me as ‘Master’, before I get down to lickshining the dirt off her knee-high, black suede leather, low-heeled boots. Even though I must lickshine her boots on her legs from top to bottom, my gaze must always be downwards towards her feet and ankles – not upwards at her shapely, East European legs beneath her miniskirt; I am only aware of her blonde hair and frilly, black miniskirt in my peripheral vision! Furthermore, in accordance with the Laws of Masteria, I must only think about the stranger customer-mistress’s feet and footwear, and so, in addition to internally admiring her boots, I silently speculate as to the likelihood of her wearing socks inside those boots, and hope that she is, and that they are thick, manky and grey (my favourite sort of female socks, conditioned in me by my mistress-owner Karen’s ubiquitous, thick grey bootsocks! Oh how I am missing them already!)
· Free males are not permitted to utilise my mouth to clean their footwear (unlike in other parts of the Gynarchy where such modern trends are now developing!), but they are permitted, indeed encouraged, by the law to stop by and mock me for being a licker of girls’ boots and shoes, and I must suck up all their mockery and laughter with a respectful, and fearful, ‘Yes, Master. Thank you, Master’.
· My Master Karen then picks me up on her way home from work at the end of the day, and I crawl obediently to heel behind her as she walks from her local bus station back to her home. If her husband Stewart is in she makes me kiss-greet his feet (or kiss-greet them a soon as he returns from his place of work, wherever that is) before she settles down with him for a slap-up meal, followed by a cuddle in front of the television on the sofa. At such times I am required to kneel by the end of the sofa at my Master Karen’s grey-socked feet and unobtrusively sniff them, so that I am enveloped in my master’s sweaty foot-odour for the evening. I make a point of studying her socks, and he movements in her socks, whilst I am sniffing them, and deliberately avoid listening to whatever is on the television since the TV is not for the likes of me – a slave. I am fit only to focus on my female master’s socks.
· Eventually, I am chained to the foot of the master-bed once again, on my female master’s side, so that I may concentrate on her bare feet under the duvet and sleep surrounded by her unwashed, bare foot-stink, until it all begins again the following morning.
Such is the humble existence of a footslave in the esoteric Autonomous Region of Masteria. Do you fancy it?
Masteria by patheticus on GoAnimate
4. Identical Twin Mistresses
They deliberately wear identical clothes just to confuse me:
Even their pretty toenails are painted the same colour:
And woe betide me if I get their names mixed up: mistress Yei Lan or Lei Yin. Quite rightly – I earn their wrath and indignation.
5. Deserving of Respect
There is only one thing more deserving of submissive-lip respect by an impotent streethead-slave than the ballet-flated feet of a beautiful, young woman…
… and that is the ballet-flated feet of a beautiful and fecund, young woman whilst she is in the presence of her potent and virile, freemale partner!
Here is the recently unearthed text of an Ancient Gynarchy Master/Slave contract (or ‘Binding Covenant’) – a fascinating insight into the absolute power of the female over the male in the historical forerunner of the modern Gynarchy.
Note how the legal term ‘Mistress’ was not yet in common usage, yet the female personal possessive pronoun, and indeed the word ‘Feminal’ itself, is always capitalised, unlike the words ‘male’ and ‘slave’ – thereby confirming the already superior, social status of the great Female in Ancient Gynarchic Society. Indeed, you will note how the male slave is merely referred to as ‘it’ – as an object; a thing for its ‘Feminal Master’ to dally with as she pleases.
Truly, there is much we can learn from such Ancient, Feminine wisdom!...
A Binding Covenant Twixt a Feminal Master
and Her ignoble, male chattel
1) Heretofore the Feminal Master shall be referred to as ‘the Master’, and the male slave as ‘the slave’
2) The slave remaineth the chattel of its Master in perpetuity, for the Master to do with it whatsoever She willeth
3) The slave shall live at all times on its hands and knees, save at the discretion of the Master whensoever it requireth to be beaten, at which time it mayeth be tethered vertiginously to a whipping post for ignominious and excoriating chastisement with the judicious, Feminal whip or rod
4) The slave shall focus at all times on its Master’s feet and/or foot attire
5) The slave shall be required to kissgreet and lickclean its Master’s outer footwear at the behest of the Master
6) The slave may look at, and admire, its Master’s inner footwear, but may not touch such Feminal intimacies with its dirty, male mouth, without the express permission of the Wearer of the hose
7) The slave shall not speak unless spoken to, and then only in the humblest and most respectful of tones
8) The slave must never contradict its Master, who be the font of all Feminal knowledge and wisdom (compared to the vulgar slave)
9) The Master shall speak to Her slave only to command, rebuke, or condemn to corporeal chastisement
10) The Master shall never use a civil tone when She addresseth Her wretched slave
11) The Master shall determine whether, whensoever, and whatsoever the slave mayeth sup or imbibe
12) The slave shall respect its Master’s wishes, and submit to its Master’s superior, Feminal demand at all times – under dreaded pain of whip!
