Patheticus Minimus 3D

Here a typical Gynarchy girl, Ms Hayley Madam, explains her favourite hobby – humiliating public footslaves: ‘Hi. My name’s Hayley, and I’m 20 years old. I live in the Gynarchy and I like humbling public footslaves out on the streets with my sneakers and socks, by making them kiss them and lick them. It’s my hobby. Whenever I approach a public footslave I first of all stand in front of him so that he can get a good look at my feet and at the sneakers and socks I’m about to impose on his mouth. I make sure my socks are a different colour from my sneakers so that the slave can clearly see the difference, and I also make sure my socks are creased, and that he can get to see a tiny slither of my soft, bare legskin between the tops of my socks and my jean-hems. I don’t mind him seeing my bare skin as I know he can’t touch it without my permission; he’s just a slave! Next I crouch down so that I am at his face level, and I warn him that he has to do everything I say or else I will hurt him. ...

Many Gynarchy households have ornamental footkissing-slaves in their hallways – often placed close to doorways where people leave their dirty shoes. Unlike a public footslave out on the streets, of course, these household footslaves tend to have to kiss slippered and/or socked feet. But, as we said, people’s smelly shoes are never far away from their faces. Do you think the dirty sneakers in this scene may belong to the grey-socked beauty with the pink hair?

I spy, with my public footslave eye, mistress ‘white socks’ walking towards me across the town square. I call her that because I don’t know her real name, but she always seems to wear white socks with her white sneakers – and proudly so. Today she begins by crouching down to my face and faux-asking after my wellbeing. She doesn’t really care how I’m feeling, of course; I’m just an anonymous, public footslave to her. But I nevertheless thank her kindly for her kind enquiry, and reply that I am doing well and am eager to serve her sneakers by lickshining them, if it would be to her pleasure? I then politely enquire as to her own wellbeing. She laughs and tells me to mind my own business and not to be so impudent. But she then goes on to inform me that she is wearing a brand new pair of white, cotton socks with a trellised pattern in the stitching which I won’t have seen before, and would I like her to hitch up her jean hems so that I can see them whilst I am lickshining her dirty sneaker...