Elderly Voyeur Master-Sir

As soon as the bright and intelligent young woman has finished using me to clean her shoes, the elderly voyeur master-sir (who is employed by the Female State for this very purpose because of his voyeuristic predilections) will crouch down next to me, poke me in the eye with his walking stick, and mockingly ask me lots of questions about my experiences at the young woman’s feet:

Ø  He will begin by asking me how I had liked it – having to lickshine the dirty shoes of such a haughty, young woman, and taste where she had been walking?

Ø  He will also ask me if the various tastes of her shoes had been to my liking?

Ø  He will then enquire as to the aroma of her shoes. Did they contain any strong or unseemly odours?

Ø  He will then quiz me about her socks. He will explain that he could see they were plain grey socks, from a distance, but what was the intricate pattern in the stitching? Was it vertical or horizontal? And how many grey stitches did I think her socks must contain in total?

Ø  Also, were there any creases in her socks and, if so, did they distract me from my shoelicking duties at all? Was I not tempted to ‘nose’ the young woman’s socks, and go hang the consequences?

Ø  He will then laugh at me for my cowardice and point out that, whilst the young woman had been harsh and unfriendly in her dealings with me – barking down her orders at me in a shrill and angry, female voice – her demeanour had been very different towards him, being warm, feminine and friendly. He will emphasise that she had even given him a wave and a cheery smile as she left, and he will explain that’s because she knows he is a much better man than the slave is – attractive to women, thanks to his great wealth and fine clothes; and, indeed, attractive to women simply because he is a free man, and able to stand up on his own two feet and walk around – again, unlike the slave. (I have to admit, the elderly master-sir is indeed a much better man than me, as evidenced by his freedom to poke his stick in my eye. And the blonde customer-mistress had indeed given him a friendly wave and a smile as she was leaving my public footlick-block. I had even overheard her saying ‘He’s all yours, sir’!’, to the elderly master-sir, so she clearly has a lot of respect for him, knowing that he is employed by the Female State to publicly taunt and torment me!)

Ø  The master sir will then exhort me to savour the lingering tastes of my customer-mistress’s shoedirt in my mouth as he very much doubts I shall be fed again today. He laughs and points out that he, on the other hand, is off for a slap-up meal in a swanky restaurant with a young lady friend whom he had met on an internet dating website. It is his second date with her and he fully expects to bed her tonight. The elderly master-sir then reminds me that I shall never know the feel of a beautiful, young woman’s soft and loving skin on my body, since I’m just a slave, and a public, head-in-the-wall footslave at that, so the most I can ever look forward to is to taste the soles of beautiful, young women’s dirty shoes.

Ø  The elderly master-sir stands up at this point; laughs out loud at me; and tells me how he holds me in utter contempt, just as the young woman whose shoedirt now adorns the inside of my mouth had regarded me with contempt. He emphasises that heshall never be made to wear a toilet seat as a necklace, and that the flavours of female shoedirt shall remain a complete and utter mystery to him.

Ø  He then turns and leaves me with his triumphant, elderly male laughter ringing in my ears whilst I must respectfully observe the backs of his expensive and superior shoes disappearing into the distance. And rightly so!