Security-Guard Mistress Ms Mukta Madam

The dumb restroom footkisser thinks he knows quite a lot about his regular, security-guard customer mistress, because she is quite chatty. Not with him, of course. She never converses with him – preferring instead to ignore him completely (apart, that is, from subconsciously stopping to have her feet kissed as she egresses the public restroom). No, she’s chatty with her mates on the phone as she towers over him having her boots lip-worshipped, often speaking Gujarati with them, but sometimes speaking in English. Hence he gets to glean little snippets of information about her superior life which, when taken with what he can observe about her with his other senses, gives him a pretty full picture of her – even though he has never even seen her face from his lowly, head-bowed position.

So, what does he know about Ms Mukta?

·        The first thing to say (or not say in his case – since he’s just a dumb footkisser), is that she is self-evidently better than him, being able to stand up on her own two feet and being free to move around as she wishes; unlike the slave – who is head-bound in the public restroom wall. The slave knows that.

·        Secondly, he knows that she works as a security guard, thanks to her uniform. He may be a dumb, ornamental footkisser – but he’s not totally stupid (or is he?)

·        Thirdly, he knows that it must have been raining outside, for her black leather uniform boots are wet and muddy – not that his menial mouth is in any way qualified to dry-clean them. His lips are fit only to kiss the dirty mudstains on her boots.

·        Next the impudent fool observes that his security-guard customer mistress is, as per usual, wearing thick, grey bootsocks inside her uniform boots. She is thus always uniform-compliant; a stickler for the rules!

·        He knows that she is an Indian girl – partly because of her native tongue, which he often overhears her speaking in on the phone, and which he recognises as being an Indian language (he used to be a professor of Indo-European languages before his enslavement and being made mute); partly because when she answers the phone she sometimes says her name ‘Mukta’; but mostly because he can observe her pretty, brown legskin atop her thick, grey bootsock as she subconsciously stretches out her boot for him to respectfully kiss

·        Although he has never seen her face he senses that she is a happy young woman – always smiling

·        He knows too, from eavesdropping on her conversations, that she is happily married to a man called Simon – whom he has never met (obviously, as this is a Ladiesrestroom, after all!) – but who must, for sure, be a magnificent man, being the chosen sexual partner of such a magnificent and powerful, young woman!

·     He can also sense her security-guard baton hovering high above him – and that she would not be afraid to use it to bash him about the head, should the desire take hold of her. After all, she could beat him about the head with impunity – being a female citizen of the Gynarchy, and thus above the Female Law, rather than subject to it (and, of course, being an officer of the Law herself!) So he is careful to always show her the utmost in silent respect as he diligently kiss-worships her dirty boots

·       He knows that a superior and happy young woman like this would never give a humble head like him a second glance – because she never has. And rightly so, for she must have a multitude of more interesting and important things to think about than him. She only ever stops to utilise the ornamental footkisser because she is vaguely aware of his presence, and because the Law states he must kiss her feet as she departs the restroom – just as he must kiss everyone’s feet as they leave the restroom. And, as we’ve already established, Ms Mukta madam is nothing if not a stickler for the rules!

·        He knows, right now, that she is coming to the end of her shift, for she appears to be on the phone this time to her husband Simon, ordering her dinner – in English (with a cute, Indian-girl accent!) And as she turns to walk away from the slave, without so much as a by your leave, she is still happily flirting with her husband on the phone. The slave senses that master Simon sir, whoever he is, will be experiencing the bodily love and affection of his sensual, security-guard wife as soon as she gets home (and has finished eating the dinner he has so lovingly prepared for them both!)

Meanwhile the head-in-the-wall footslave’s own mouth is full of the taste of security-guard mistress Mukta madam’s common bootdirt. She is most definitely NOT his lover; nor his friend; she is his foot-customer – and he means nothing to her.

What an honour for an underling like that to taste where a superb young woman like Ms Mukta madam has been walking – especially at the end of her long shift pounding the beat of the mean streets of the Gynarchy!