Patheticus Minimus 3D

Officer-mistress Ebunoluwa madam has just finished her 8 hour shift and is heading off home to the warm and loving bosom of her family. But she stops off first by the foothole-prisoner’s cell to have her boots kiss-respected one last time, exulting in the knowledge that, unlike her, he can never leave this place, and that the only company he shall be having during the night are the uniform boots of her colleague, officer-mistress Ms Ying Yui.

‘You work hard, slave! You scrub rock! All the time you work, or I hurt you with whip!’ When an elderly footslave becomes too old and decrepit to lickshine the public’s boots or shoes, he is consigned to the Gynarchy quarries for the rest of his miserable existence where he must constantly scrub rocks under pain of the whip!

This master-sir is a true gentleman, supporting his skinny girlfriend in a gentlemanly manner as she presents her sneakered feet to the public footslave for lickshining.

The girl with the blonde ponytail, high-top sneakers and white socks is the almost perfect customer-mistress, for the following reasons: ·       She has the right attitude towards me, effectively ignoring me as she chatters away in some East European language on her phone even as she arrogantly presents her outstretched foot to me for kissing (in the absence of any verbal orders from her to the contrary I am obliged, by law, to assume that the customer merely wishes her feet to be kissed, since that is my default position as an ‘ornamental footkisser’) ·       Her nominally white sneakers are suitably street-soiled and dirty, with lots of ingrained dirt. They could certainly do with a good tongue-cleaning, but, like I said above, in the absence of an explicit female order to that effect I am forbidden to lick ·       Her socks, by way of contrast, look clean and snowy-white, though it’s now early evening and I expect they have been on her feet all day, inside these very same scruffy, h

This library sockslave knows his lowly place – and it is on his hands and knees on the floor, with his head sandwiched in between the student-mistress’s ankles, studying the texture and weave of her socks whilst she studies for her Science degree high above him. The humble sockslave knows that he is fit only to study a girl’s socks, which is why he is employed as he is, and why he remains dutifully focussed on the sock currently in front of his feckless face. At the moment, he is fixated on the internal side of her right sock and, even though it is a plain and ordinary, everyday grey cotton anklesock, there is still a lot for him to think about and fill his empty head with: ·       First of all, he must speculate as to the provenance of this young woman’s sock. Was it a gift from her boyfriend, or did she purchase this particular pair of socks herself? ·       How long has she had them? ·       Does she have a personal footslave at home and, if so, did she require him to put her socks