Sweaty Sockface

As she crouches down to attach her dirty, stinky, red and white spotty socks to my ears in order to publicly air them, bright and intelligent local girl Ms Arabella madam says that from now on she’s going to call me ‘Sweaty Sockface’, because I am sweating so much (with fear at her presence).

She laughs at me and asks me if I don’t feel shame, having a girl’s dirty socks attached to the side of my sweaty face? The look on her own pretty face is a mixture of pity, contempt and disgust.

I humbly reply that, whilst it would indeed be a shameful thing for any free and proper human being to have to air someone else’s dirty socks on the side of their face, for the likes of me – a lowlife, public footservant – it is an honour and a privilege, if the mistress would be so kind and understanding to a much lesser being than herself?

She laughs at me again before standing up in order to walk casually away from me. As she does so she glances back and reassures me that she will be back tomorrow in order to collect her freshly aired socks. She reckons that by that time most of the stink will have dissipated into the surrounding alleyway air and up my slave-nostrils, and she wishes me ‘happy socksniffing, Sweaty Sockface!’

As she leaves me my only regret is that she hasn’t attached her beautiful purple and turquoise patterned socks – the ones she has on now – to my sweaty sockface. Hopefully tomorrow?













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