Patheticus Minimus 3D

This beautiful and slender, young woman delights in watching the dirty prisoner-slave having to humbly handwash her fat manfriend’s sweaty, hairy feet. This happy couple often visit the Gynarchy’s male prisoners in their cells in order to humiliate them in this way. It’s their hobby.

She's such a beautiful, regular visitor-mistress to the outside of my cell! Slim and svelte; long-black-haired; of Pakistani origins; materially poor, but dominantly rich. She never deigns to actually enter my cell, of course – she’s too good for that. So I am left to wallow in my own filth. But she does magnanimously position her shapely foot through the bars of my cell for me to respectfully kiss and worshipfully clean. It is such a privilege for me to taste her cheap, but hardworking, faux-leather ballet flats on top of her ubiquitous, navy-blue cotton anklesocks and beneath her equally ubiquitous, green cleaner-uniform, trouser-hems – through the rusty, iron bars of my spartan cell. I even get a glimpse of soft, female, lower legflesh! The young, free Pakistani-woman’s flats are scuffmarked around the dainty, feminine toe-areas, thanks to repeated wear and tear; I can feel the roughness of the scuffmarks-grooves on my respectfully puckered, prisoner lips as they make ki

Get thee to a monastery… My mistress Tiffany has decided she’s had enough of me – she’s going to put me in a monastery; as a monks’ footslave! Cruelly, on the day she hands me over, she wears my favourite pair of her bright yellow and orange, flower-themed, calf-length, lace-up bovver boots (with a cute little hidden pair of plain white sneaker-socks deep inside them – socks which I tearfully smoothed onto her dainty, soft feet for the final time this morning!) But I must now kneel with her boots behind me, as she hands me over to my new masters – the monks! The chief monk – the abbot – holds a nasty-looking, multi-thonged scourge with knotted lashes in his right hand; it is coiled up, but one senses that might not be for long. My new monk-master raises his hairy, sandalled foot up into the air beneath my kneeling nose, a clear gesture for me to submit to him, and to kiss it. Gingerly, I crawl forward through the monastery dirt and lower my lips to his manly, outstretched foot. His san

  1. A Ribbing Regular, Asian customer-mistress – miss Thi Oo – likes to give me a bit of a ribbing as she sits triumphantly above me on the public-shoelick throne of female power in her somewhat unflattering, thick-round-toed, black-ribbed-knit, crocheted, buttoned-up, Ugg-style boots beneath her plain black, polyester trouser-hems. They are 'unflattering' only in so far as they make her dainty, female feet look much bigger than they actually are – for miss Thi Oo is a truly stunning-looking but somewhat petite, Burmese girl in her early thirties. She is recently married, and happily so – though desperate, by all accounts, to fall pregnant and start a family. I actually mean 'by all her accounts', as she quite unabashedly likes to describe to me in great detail her various lovemaking techniques with her husband whom I have never met, but of whom she has insisted on showing me numerous photographs, including their wedding photographs – and whom I must confirm, under