A Sock-Fancier's Crime & Punishment
His crime is to be a socks-fancier (i.e. he is too easily distracted by his customers’ socks whilst he is lickshining their shoes at his public-shoelick stand out on the streets).
His punishment is to be 50 lashes of the female whip.
His torment is to have civilian couples tease and cajole him with their dirty laundry, including their socks, whilst he languishes in the prison-cell stocks awaiting his punishment.
There is much going on in this scene to keep us amused, so let’s examine it in some detail:
Ø Firstly we note that the convicted socks-fancier is confined in a set of kneelingstocks – a suitably humbling, and painful, position for a wretched footslave-prisoner to be in
Ø See too how the stocks are made of rough, unvarnished wood. No fine, polished oaken furniture here – just plain, heavy wood which makes for a fitting contraption in which to confine a lowly prisoner-slave
Ø Note also the humiliating words surrounding the prisoner’s ignominious wooden window – words designed to humble and deprecate him: ‘To Be Whipped’; and ‘Socks Fancier’
Ø Then we observe that his stupid face is buried in a basket full of dirty laundry, including socks, stockings and underwear
Ø Note how the authorities have cleverly raised the basket of dirty linen up to the prisoner’s face (and nose) by placing it on top of a wooden barrel
Ø The said basket of dirty linen belongs to a civilian couple whom we see tormenting the sockslave
Ø The man is crouching down next to the prisoner-slave and asking him how he is liking it – having to smell their dirty linen in public?
Ø We can’t hear the slave’s response as he is compelled to muffle his reply into a dark, female stocking – but I am reliably informed that his response to the grey-haired master sir was to say that he liked it, but not that much, if the master sir would be so kind and understanding to him, begging the master sir’s pardon (or words to that effect)
Ø Meanwhile the bright and intelligent young woman – the grey-haired man’s partner – is holding up what appears to be one of her dirty, pink bootsocks, effectively teasing and taunting the sock-fancying prisoner with it
Ø The master sir then asks the prisoner if he would like his girlfriend to add her stinky, pink sock to the pile of dirty laundry surrounding his gormless face?
Ø Again I am reliably informed that the prisoner-slave’s humble response is to thank the master and mistress kindly for their generous offer, and to beseech them to indeed add the dirty, pink bootsock to the pile of stink beneath his face, as it would be an honour and a privilege for him to inhale the aroma of the beautiful mistress’s used sock (so from this we can deduce that his impending whipping is unlikely to ‘cure’ him of his sock-fancying ways! Or maybe we underestimate the power of the whip?)
Ø Meanwhile we note that the crouching master-sir isn’t wearing any socks – and deliberately so. He knows full well that the sight of his hairy, bare toes and feet is anathema to the sock-fancying slave, and he has thus deliberately chosen not to indulge the prisoner by wearing socks with his sandals
Ø His female partner, by way of contrast, seems only too happy to sock-tease the prisoner slave. She may be sitting all pigeon-toed and demure-looking. But let’s look at the facts - not only is she about to add her stinky and used, bright pink bootsock to the pile of cotton ordure beneath the hapless prisoner’s face; she is also wearing a very pretty pair of plain, black sneaker-socks inside her sneakers – socks which accentuate the shapeliness of her anklebones by stretching the fine cotton stitching over her soft, brown ankleskin in a most enchanting way
Ø Note too how faux-gingerly she holds the dirty, pink bootsock in her female hand – as if it were a thing to be fearful of because of its supposedly toxic odour (even though it is her own personal foot odour!)
Ø Finally we see a pretty, uniformed prison-guard mistress standing behind the prisoner – poised and ready to whip him, though not until the happy couple have finished tormenting him with their dirty laundry. The dirty socks and underwear must, you see, be removed from his face before the whipping begins, lest they serve as an unintentional anaesthetic – dulling his mind to the pain. That just wouldn’t do!
Ha! Ha! I’ll bet he’ll be a real ‘stink face’ when they, eventually, remove the dirty laundry basket from underneath his face. His face will stink of the beautiful black couple’s dirty laundry - a fitting addition to his punishment of 50 harsh lashes of the female whip!
And then he shall be ‘released’ back out onto the streets to once again serve the general public by lickshining their dirty shoes and boots. Let’s hope the whip does teach him a valuable lesson, and that he will no longer be distracted by his customers’ socks. But, as I intimated before, the omens are not good. This wretched piece of filth appears to be an incorrigible socks-fancier for life, and I rather suspect it shall only be a matter of time before he finds himself back in the Gynarchy’s dungeons – confined in the stocks and sniffing smelly socks as he awaits yet another flogging for dereliction of his public shoe-licking duties!
What a fool!
