Pummelling Hammer
It’s a blisteringly hot day – even in the relative shade of my dark and dingy alleyway. But the only concession regular customer-mistress Ms Karen madam has made to the heat is to take off her suit jacket. She is still, for example, wearing nylons inside her closed, warm shoes.
Mind you – that is the least of my worries, for she has some astounding news for me! You will notice, as I did, that she has brought with her a mighty, oversized 'pummelling hammer'. She kindly explains that this has been supplied to her by the Gynarchy Authorities on account of her agreement to sponsor me for the next twelve months! She further explains that such sponsorship means she shall be responsible for disciplining me, and she warns me that she, and her husband master Phillip sir, shan’t hesitate to use the horrid hammer to pummel me about the face if I fail to satisfy any of 'her' foot-customers over the coming weeks and months. She doesn’t actually hit me with it on this occasion, but she does brush it against my humble head, and asks me to imagine how ‘sore’ it would be if applied to my face in anger!
I hastily assure mistress Karen madam that I shall do all that I can to be a good public footservant to all and sundry who utilise my footkissing and footlicking services, and will endeavour to do her and her husband proud, so that they should have no need to carry the heavy hammer all the way to my ugly face.
Ms Karen madam leaves with a smug smile on her own pretty face.
What do you think? Should Ms Karen madam pummel me about the face with the pummelling hammer if I displease any of 'her' customers? Or is it too blunt an instrument of punishment? Would she do better to just slash me about the face with the public-use whip? Or even have me temporarily dis-immured so that I might be properly flogged at the whipping post in the town square?