Magnificent Mockers

Miss Marielle and her boyfriend love tormenting slaves in the public stocks. Marielle, in particular, takes her public duty to humiliate prisoner-slaves very seriously – even ensuring that she wears three-day-old socks inside her sneakers, and deliberately not brushing her teeth for four days so that her breath truly stinks as she gets up close and personal to the slave’s face in order to verbally mock him.

She reminds him, through her bad breath, that, unlike him, she and her boyfriend are free human beings – able to come and go as they please. She then enquires as to the stiffness and soreness of the slave’s neck as he is compelled to stare down at her feet through the rough confines of his wooden window. She then mocks him for not only having to kiss her dirty socks and sneakers, but also the sweaty bare feet and sandals of her boyfriend – whom she describes as a real man; a free man.

She then refers to the humiliating words festooned in big, bright letters by the Gynarchy authorities for all to see on the set of wooden stocks surrounding the hapless slave’s head, taking each word in turn and expanding upon its undoubtedly ignominious relevance to the lowly occupant:

Pain – She fakes sincerity and concern as she enquires again after the slave’s inevitable discomfort from being confined for so long in the ‘cruel’ kneeling stocks. His back and shoulder muscles must be truly aching by now, since she happens to know he has already been imprisoned thusly for a full week? She laughs as she reminds him (if reminding he needed) that he is but a third of the way through his sentence of public confinement, and so he has a lot more pain and suffering ahead of him! But then, isn’t pain and suffering the lot of a slave? He must, she opines, simply grin and bear it. Or rather, grimace and bear it! Ha! Ha! Finally, she reminds him that she and her boyfriend aren’t in any pain, and that they are, in fact, in rude health and have never felt better! Indeed, they are about to go on a luxury holiday to Barbados for two weeks which, coincidentally, is the same period of time that the slave shall be remaining in the kneeling stocks! Ha! Ha! If they remember, they’ll come back and visit him on their return from their vacation, and shall wear their beach sandals so that he can at least taste where they have been! Say thank you mistress!

‘Thank you, mistress. God bless you, mistress.’

Feet – Ha! Ha! Yes indeed – the slave is compelled to look at people’s stinky feet all day, isn’t he? Ha! Ha! She wonders whether he likes hercheap sneakers and socks, as she holds her right foot up to his kneeling face for him to kiss the dirty, musty smelling toe-end of her nominally white, but in actuality street-greyed, canvas sneaker? She then points out that she is wearing a pair of plain, grey anklesocks inside her sneakers, and suggests that he must be disappointed that she is not wearing a more ‘glamorous’ pair of socks – for example, bright pink; or multicoloured cartoon-themed socks? 

He would like that, wouldn’t he? Well, be that as it may, he will just have to make do with the sight of her manky, old grey socks which, she gleefully informs him, she has been wearing continuously inside her sneakers for three days now. She further informs him that her feet feel hot and sticky inside her sneakers, but that she daren’t take her sneakers off in public – not because she is worried about offending the nasal passages of the lowly slave, but because she doesn’t wish to embarrass or offend her beloved boyfriend with her stinky, unwashed feet. Mind you, her boyfriend’s feet are permanently sweaty and cheesy even without socks, as the slave, she cruelly points out, is about to discover when she invites her boyfriend to hold his foot up to the slave’s face. She further reminds the footslave that it will be his duty to kiss her boyfriend’s sweaty, sandalled foot out of respect for him – a free man, and a much better man than he is, since he is capable of satisfying a woman. And she assures the slave that her mighty boyfriend does satisfy her – in every way! Ha! Ha! No woman would ever have sex with a mere slave – especially not one confined in the lowly stocks! Ha! Ha! What’s it like to be celibate all your life, footslave? To only ever get to kiss a woman’s feet – and never the rest of her body? And to have to kiss other men’s feet – in front of their girlfriends and wives? Ha! Ha! What a loser!

Fool – Ha! Ha! What an apt description – for he is a fool! A fool in the stocks for all to laugh at. A laughing stock! Ha! Ha! She doesn’t know, or care, how he ended up here. She just enjoys watching him suffer, and having him at her mercy! Ha! Ha!

Stink – She has already referred to people’s stinky feet, including her own, which surround him day in and day out. Speaking of which, can he smell her three-day-old, sock stink through her sneakers as he kisses the toe-ends? She hopes her bad breath isn’t drowning out the aroma of her festering socks inside her thin and well-worn sneakers, for she has not been able to clean her teeth for a few days now, and ate some curry at lunch time! (she then belches in the slave’s face – a feminine belch, but nonetheless humiliating and degrading towards the slave for all that!). However, perhaps the ignominious word on the stocks refers to his own stink? You smell, slave! How dare you present yourself in public in such a sorry state! You should be whipped! Oh – you already have been! Silly me! Ha! Ha!

Socks – Ah yes – socks! Ha! Ha! You are in the stocks, looking at socks! And manky, old grey socks, at that! Ha! Ha! She supposes that the slave must spend much of his day sockwatching – comparing and contrasting the various colours and textures of the socks of his betters who come to mock him and have their feet kissed, like she is? Does he even, perchance, attempt to count the stitches in peoples’ socks as they stand over him? He must surely, at the very least, study the weave of their socks – the pattern in the stitching etc.? And does he like it when their socks crease, as hers are now, as they hold their feet up to his face to kiss? Surely he must find it humiliating to be so close to another human being’s socks – however superior that human being is to him? Ha! Ha! He’s nothing but a lowly sock slave!

Whipped – Ha! Ha! As she has already noted, he has apparently been whipped quite recently! Is that a part of his sentence, she wonders – to be whipped? Perhaps at the beginning, the middle, and the end of his sentence? Ha! Ha! He certainly is vulnerable to the whip, and is in no position to escape its biting sting should anyone choose to whip him! She points out that her manly boyfriend has brought along his own slave-whip – just in case the prisoner shows any disrespect towards her. So she suggests the slave concentrates on continuing to kiss her, and her boyfriend’s feet, lest her boyfriend becomes angry and minded to add to the stripes on the kneeling slave’s already sore and raw, bare back! Ha! Ha!

Slave – That sums it all up really, doesn’t it? He’s just a slave – at the mercy of all and sundry; at the mercy of their feet; and their shoes; and their socks; and their whips! Ha! Ha! She’s glad she’s not a slave – and that she never will be, being a free, young woman of the Gynarchy. She will also ensure that her boyfriend is never enslaved, for she loves him and plans to marry him. As for the slave, he can rot here in the stocks for all eternity for all she cares. He’s just a slave – and she is better than him. Better looking; more intelligent; richer. In the Gynarchy of Barbaria she is a winner, and he is a loser. Ha! Ha! Kiss my boyfriend’s foot, loser!

When the happy couple have had their fill of mocking the slave and, eventually, leave him to rot in the stocks, he must suffer the final indignity of observing the backs of their heels – both socked and bare – as they make their way home to their nice, warm bed where they shall make love tonight before packing up in the morning for their forthcoming holiday in sunny Barbados. Yes truly they are the winners and he is the loser.

Still, at least he has the sand from their Bajan-beach flipflops to look forward to, if and when they deign to visit him again in the stocks on their return from their happy holiday. He shall be thinking of them – sunning themselves on the beach; even though they will probably have forgotten all about him!