Ms Mukta On National 'Sock Show' Day

Regular tormentor Ms Mukta madam has come to show off her socks to me on national ‘Sock Show’ day. And a very nice pair of socks they are too! It’s only when you are close up and personal to them, as I am, that you can see her seemingly plain purple socks are actually embroidered with little white spots.

Ms Mukta orders me to count the number of white spots I can see on her right sock. Because I am a stupid slave, I have to seek clarification from her as to whether I should include any spots which are only partially visible? She berates me for my stupidity and tells me that, of course, I should include them! However, sweet and kind young woman that she is, she also keeps her sneakered foot relatively still on the crate beneath my face, thereby facilitating my humble sock-spot counting task.

After some minutes I inform her that I can count 210 spots, including partial spots, on her sock. She laughs and orders me to calculate, therefore, how many spots must be on her right sock altogether? I quickly do the sums in my humble head and come up with the guestimate of ‘at least 2, 500 mistress Mukta madam, if it pleases you, mistress Mukta madam’, but she retorts that this figure is ‘too approximate’ and she wants to know the exact amount. I therefore hazard a humble guess at 2664. Again she laughs out loud, and says she will check with the manufacturers when she gets home – and, if I am wrong, she will come back and give me 50 harsh lashes with her whip. She then shows me her beloved, brown leather whip with the bulbous business-end designed to cause extra pain (a whip, incidentally, which she often brings with her to the stocks in order to belabour my back!)

My heart sinks at the prospect of another whipping – the more so as I begin to think my guesstimate as to the total number of white spots on her purple sock must surely be way out?

Ms Mukta then politely enquires as to whether, since it is national Sock-Show Day, I would like to ‘nose’ the visible spots on her sock i.e. touch each spot respectfully with the tip of my slave-nose? I reply that I would like to do that very much, if she would be so kind and generous to a humble prisoner-slave in the stocks, as I don’t get to have much physical contact with the socks of my betters. But she then seems to have second thoughts, as she smilingly tells me she must first check with her husband Simon if that would be ok. She will ask him when he returns home from work in the afternoon. She promises, however, to return later that evening if he consents to my nosing of her socks (plus, of course, she may need to return later in any case in order to whip me for mis-guessing the number of spots on her sock!)

And so, as she turns to leave me with a cheery wave, it is with a mixture of trepidation and hope that I watch her purple and white spotted socks disappearing from view. What fate awaits me? The whip? Or the opportunity to nose the spots on her socks? Or perhaps even both fates await me because it’s not inconceivable that master Simon sir might still take pity on me and permit me to nose his wife’s spotty socks even if I have miscalculated the total number of spots on her right sock?

Which fate would you like to see befall me?