Patheticus Minimus 3D

‘Be cleansing the sole of my shoe, dirty slave, or I will be having you whipped, isn’t it?’ The Indian girl certainly knows how to talk down to a humble head! I lick the dirty rainwater off her foul-tasting sneaker sole and she eventually walks away from me calling me a ‘ damned fool’ and a ‘nincompoop’ ! She’s right, of course – I am both of those things. I’m stupid.

The free male master-sir gives the young woman a warm around of applause as she has me lickshine her dirty sneakers. She is, needless to say, delighted by the free male attention. After she has gone, the same master-sir crouches down next to me, pokes me in my humble head with his outstretched finger, and asks me how I had liked it – having to lickshine a girl’s dirty sneaker in public. I respond, respectfully and politely to the master-sir, that I had liked it, but not that much, if he would be so kind and understanding to a humble-head slave in his superior presence? He laughs at me, and orders me to describe the young woman’s socks in intricate detail, before asking me how I had liked being so close to a girl’s socks? I thank the master-sir kindly for his kind question, and assure him that being so close to the customer-mistress’s socks had indeed been a humbling experience for me. He snorts derisively at me and walks away – glad that he isn’t a down-in-the-dirt, sneaker-licking,

Regular customer-mistress Ms Jane Madam is one of my more ‘eccentric’ customers – and not just when it comes to her dress sense! She will invariably bring along a box of doughnuts and a cup of coffee with her and spend hours seated above me in the public-shoelick throne of power, stuffing her face and guzzling her hot drink whilst directing my every shoelicking move with her wagging finger and an ever-waving whip. Here, for example, you see her ordering me to lickshine her dirty, cheap pink ballet-flats, which I must verbally admire in between my licks to her shoeleather. And woe betide me if I should omit to compliment her also on her socks – short, blue ‘secret’ socks designed purely to garnish her footsweat inside her soft, pink shoes throughout the day. I must verbally extol the beauty of those short socks and misshapen ballet flats as if they were finest denier nylons worn with the most expensive pair of stylish high heels – otherwise Ms Jane Madam will regale my bare, bent-over

Today, as I am lickshining her dirty tennis shoes, regular customer-mistress Ms Mukta Madam gaily informs me that she had had a wonderful dream last night – she and her husband, Master Simon Sir, were whipping me in the House of Correction; a total of 120 lashes! She explains that I had been suspended from the ceiling in an underground dungeon by the wrists, naked apart from my flimsy slave loincloth, and that her manly husband had begun the whipping by giving me 30 lashes with a single-tailed, brown leather whip across my back on the right hand side. He had then handed her the whip, and she had done the same on my left hand side. She explains that in her dream she had made sure to lay her stripes on me in between the stripes created by her husband, so that my back was red and sore all over. Next she and her husband had delivered the final 60 lashes by alternating after every 10 strokes between my right and left flanks, making sure each of the new stripes overlaid or criss-crossed one

Oh humble head, Within thy bed, Of rancid drain, ‘Neath rusty grille. Thou lookest up, At soles of dirt At boots of power, Each passing hour, And long to feel, Their leather heel, Be they wet or dry, Flat or high. But no boot shall stop, To grant thee sop. For thou art lowly, And they are holy, Protecting the feet, Of those you greet, With silent yearning. And so you lie, In sewerage mire, Ignored by all, Deserving ire.

Hey you there, humble head slave! Lickshine your pretty Chinese customer-mistress’s boots, and be sharp about it! Transfer her bootdirt onto your tongue where it belongs. And mentally admire her socks while you’re doing so. Ha! Ha! No wonder she despises you! We all do!

The household, hallway feet-greeter must kiss-greet the feet of his masters’ and mistress’s guests as they are welcomed into their home by their hosts. Afterwards the hostess, Ms Mukta, makes sure the household humble-head kisses her slippered feet too!