A Furrowed Brow

Her boots are brown
Her socks are red.
Her ankles dig deep
Into my forehead.

Humbled I am
Feeling less than a man,
As I feel the squeeze
From an expert socktease.

Oh pray, pretty Miss
Please finish all this,
And leave me to bow
My sock-furrowed brow
In the abject shame
Of a footslave in pain!




































Well might you hang your head in shame, footslave. See how your pathetic, poetic whinings and pleadings have failed to impress this immensely bright and beautiful young woman, who is your superior. See how, after she has finished her cigarette, she shoves her booted foot into your face for kissing, and, no doubt, to shut you up. Your mouth should be used to kiss boot, stupid footslave; not wax lyrical! Remember your lowly place – which is down amongst the boots and socks of your betters!



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