A Humbling
I am still hopeful that regular customer-mistress Ms Mukta Madam will pop by this evening in order to ‘humble’ me, as she had promised to do just a few days ago. In Gynarchy parlance a ‘humbling’ means having one's shoes or boots kissed (as opposed to a ‘lick and a shine’ which is more self-explanatory!) I am particularly enamoured by customer-mistress Ms Mukta’s visits because, even though she’s a happily married young woman, her socks are my life! She has a truly extensive wardrobe of socks, and I worship each and every one of them as they undoubtedly brighten up my lowly life!
But, it’s getting late and will soon be nightfall. Oh I do hope she hasn’t forgotten!...
Suddenly, out of the gathering gloom across the square I see her approaching, her smile as if lighting up the evening sky!
As soon as she arrives at my public footblock she kindly crouches down to ‘apologise’ for her tardiness. She explains that she had just been, as she herself so delicately puts it, having a sh** in one of the nearby public toilets when she remembered her promise to come and see me again. I thank the customer-mistress kindly for remembering me, and remind her there is no need for her to ever have to explain herself, let alone apologise, to a slave! She laughs and promptly stands up in order to present her familiar sneakered foot to my lips for kiss-respecting.
And, as she does so, her socks, as per usual, do not disappoint – white socks with grey, horizontal-zigzaggy lines interspered with perpendicular lines of narrow, wavy stitching. The zigzag patterns as if accentuate the creases and folds in her sock as she presents each foot at various angles to my face for kissing. It is, indeed, a truly humbling experience, as I contemplate how these are the socks of a beautiful, young woman who, by her own admission, has just been defecating in a nearby public lavatory, but who now towers over me like a mundane, everyday goddess.
After my ‘humbling’ she bends down again to ask me to my face how I had liked it – having to kiss her dirty sneakers all over? I respond, as per usual, that I had liked it, though not that much, if should be so kind and understanding to a humble slave at her sneakered feet? She laughs out loud at me (she is now so close that I can smell her halitosis) before standing up in order to turn and walk away from me. As the intricate patterns in her grey and white, zigzag socks disappear from my view she gloatingly gives me the female victory sign. And rightly so – for I am truly humbled to have been in the presence of her shoes and socks once again. Indeed, it has been the humbling highlight of my day!
Oh I do hope she visits me again tomorrow!
