On a Gynarchy train, a personal slave is expected to kneel under the seat opposite his pretty mistress and admire her scuffmarked, pink boots and black socks whilst she stares out the window
The good-looking – indeed, some would say godlike-looking – Mondieu family, who originally hailed from Haiti but had emigrated some 3 years ago from Port au Prince to, appropriately enough, Port à la Princesse , a small town on the Gynarchy’s north-eastern seaboard, are gathered in the living-room of their modest, terraced house on Xmas day, enjoying their sumptuous, family-Xmas meal. They are: Monsieur Mondieu – the 53 year old head of the family (even though they are now living in the Gynarchy, old habits die hard; and the traditionally-reared, Haitian women of the family find it hard not to regard the man of the house as the continuing head of the family!) Madame Mondieu – his still stunningly-beautiful, 45 year old wife (the woman from whom Monsieur Mondieu’s two daughters get their extreme good looks!) Mademoiselle Simone Mondieu – their eldest daughter, 23, who has just started work as a journalist on a glossy, Gynarchy fashion magazine (she could equally be on the front ...
Part 1 – Illegal Alien He was absolutely determined to emigrate to the Gynarchy. Richard – or rather, would-be slave Richard – was fed up with having to pretend. He was fed up with having to hide his natural submissiveness vis-Ã -vis women. He was fed up with having to enjoy his fetishes in private – a surreptitious glance at a shapely, feminine ankle here; a discreet observation of a female sock there. All he wanted was to be a slave – specifically a woman’s footslave, but the society he lived in could not cater for him. He felt very much like an outsider. The only place he felt drawn towards was the mysterious land of the Gynarchy. The Gynarchy was a closed society – a Female Police State which successfully kept the world’s media at a distance. The Gynarchy’s infamous ‘feminine firewall’ even kept the Internet at bay with a fair degree of success. But everyone knew that it was a State run by women – a Slave State, in which men, or at least some of the men, were treated as slaves. The...
An office footslave yearns to touch the teasing office-mistress’s sweaty, bare foot, fresh out of her shoe, with his frustrated tongue! So near and yet so far - the sweaty, soft foot of a beautiful, blonde office-mistress! She's mocking him - as is her friend and colleague! The blonde foot has literally just been liberated from its high-heel shoe! The toes are still glistening with delicious SWEAT! But his tortured tongue cannot reach them! The TOES are laughing at him! Wriggling unobtainably just above his face! 'Haha, how are you liking it, slave?... ...Don't you wanna touch my TOES?... ...Aren't they good enough for you?' Meanwhile, her sweaty, discarded shoe rests nearby... ...adding to the vinegary aroma surrounding his confined face! Oh to lick that FOOT! To clean it for the office mistress! He only wants what's best for her - and her FOOT!
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