Ms Mukta's Dream

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 of the earlier stripes. She reminds me that she is ambidextrous and that her left arm is just as powerful as her right arm, though she uses her right arm to play tennis. She also points out that the punishment whip in her dream had a slightly bulbous tip on the end of the lash in order to cause me extra pain.

She says that throughout her dream I was crying and begging for mercy, but that it did me no good as both she and her husband were enjoying whipping me. She then asks me, sweetly, whether I would like her to make the dream come true – as she can easily ask her friend Aneka, who works in a House of Correction, to arrange for me to be whipped by her and Simon?

I thank Ms Mukta Madam kindly for her kind offer to have me sorely whipped, and humbly confirm that it would indeed be an honour to be whipped by both her and her husband, but implore her not to do so as I very much fear the sting of the whip and would wish to avoid the bite of its burn on my back at all costs, if she would be so kind and understanding towards an humble public footservant in her power and at her mercy? I make sure to lickshine her sweaty, pink and white tennis sneakers even more vigorously as I beg not to be flogged.

She laughs at me and tells me not to worry – she won’t have me whipped unless I displease her or do anything wrong. But she also tells me to let her know if I ever change my mind, as it would be no problem for her to arrange it.

I thank her kindly once again for her kind offer, and she tells me to shut up and get on with lickshining her tennis shoes. I hastily obey her.



































........................................................................................................................


Popular posts from this blog

Between The Toes

Image
A Gynarchy slave must wash his magnificent master’s bare feet whilst his master’s equally magnificent girlfriend watches on in her sneakers and socks. The old slave man has already removed his magnificent master-sir's shoes and socks from his feet... ...and must now hand-wash the master's feet in the presence of the master's pretty girlfriend... ...with his humble, slave head right next to the young woman's sneakers and socks! Oh how the slave must be yearning  to remove those female shoes and socks and wash the soft, feminine feet that were within them? But instead it is manly  feet that he must touch and wash... ...sweaty and hairy, male feet! 'Make sure you clean in between the toes, slave!' barks the master-sir down at him 'Get out all the grime and dirt from between my toes. Remove the toejam, slave!' The master's pretty girlfriend giggles How she despises the slave kneeling at her boyfriend's feet! Her own sneakered and socked foot, meanwhi...
Read more

My Job

Image
‘Slave, fetch a basin of warm water. You’re going to wash my feet!’ ‘Yes, mistress Jean madam. At once, mistress Jean madam.’ When I return to the living room with the basin, my mistress Jean madam is sitting on the couch having removed her coat, but not her shoes and socks. That’s my job! ‘Massage my socks before you take them off, slave!’ ‘Yes, mistress madam. I obey you, mistress Jean madam.’ I was expecting this. My mistress Jean often has me massage her sweaty-socked feet before washing them!  ‘Slave, fetch a basin of warm water. You’re going to wash my feet!’ ‘Massage my socks before you take them off, slave!’ I perform my demeaning task of gently massaging my mistress's sweaty-socked feet The socks feel, and smell, moist 'Don't touch my bare ankles while you're massaging my socks, slave, and look only at the socks!' 'Yes, mistress Jean madam. I hear and obey you, mistress Jean madam.' I focus on her sweaty sock... ...as I knead it with my ...
Read more