Patheticus Minimus 3D

‘Ha! Ha! I watch you kiss other man feet. He handsome man – you a nothing. You kiss other man shoe while he wear shoe with no sock. Ha! Ha! Man foot sweaty! Stinky! You a slave! Ha! Ha! You kiss lady foot now! Nice, clean foot – with pink sock! Ha! Ha! I better than you!’

  Scene no. 1 - The Semi-Clandestine Footslave The three 19 year old girls – collectively comprising a fine representation of the Gynarchy's multi-ethnic, female makeup as one just happens to be Chinese, one African-Caribbean and one Indian – are gathered around a kneeling and terrified, 45 year old male footslave (who just so happens to be white) in the Indian girl's bedroom. The illegal slave has been acquired for her by her boyfriend on the black market – illegal because a young woman has to be at least 21 years of age to own a personal footslave in the Gynarchy. And so the girls are in a bit of a quandary: The Chinese girl : Oh my God, Shireen, what are you gonna do with it, and that? The Indian girl : Ha! Ha! I don't know? Like, whip it, and that, I suppose? The black girl (swishing a single-tailed, brown leather whip – supplied along with the slave by the black marketeer – through the oestrogen-rich, bedroom air): Can I whip it, and that, though? The Chinese

How cruel! The slave can only observe the feet of his superiors though the rusty bars of his cage as they pass by him on the street. He cannot touch or worship them – unless, of course, they graciously stop to shove their feet through his bars and onto his face!

  Scene no. 1 – Back-Alleyway Mercy One has to be particularly careful, and respectful of one’s customer-mistresses, when one is a back-alleyway, public shoelick. The alleyway is, generally, deserted, and the mistress is at liberty to do whatever she damn well pleases with you! Hence we back-alleyway footslaves are often regarded as the most abused, most humiliated of public footservants – which is no bad thing, of course! Take the surly, tall and slender, young, auburn-haired, white woman who is approaching me now. Like all the women who make their way towards me down this dingy, back alleyway she does so with a purpose. This shall be no casual, spare of the moment, customer-mistress/public-footservant encounter – she wants to degrade and humiliate me with her dirty, scruffy footwear, and is, quite literally, going out of her way to do so! And her footwear is decidedly scruffy – black, laced-up plimsolls with scuffmarked, black-rubbery toe-areas, worn with smelly-looking, creased,