Treading Carefully
It’s guard-mistress Ms Fiona’s turn to ‘work me at the wheel’ i.e. a full 8½ hours of solid graft, pain and humiliation on my part, as beautiful guard-mistress Ms Fiona takes her job very seriously, even if she likes to mock me throughout my toil at her feet!
Today is no exception. As I push the wheel with all my might, in an effort to please her and avoid the whip, she asks me a mocking question, designed to entrap me and potentially earn myself a severe beating:
‘Do you find me attractive, slave? Do you fancy me?’
I know it’s a trap, because on the one hand, as a prisoner-slave, I can never publicly admit to having sexual desires towards a superior guard-mistress. And yet, on the other hand, I must not insult her by implying that I find her unattractive! Besides, if truth be told (which it won’t be for the reasons outlined above) I do find Ms Fiona madam attractive – very much so, even though years of confinement and working on the wheel have made me celibate and impotent.
I must tread carefully:
‘Oh pray, guard-mistress Fiona madam, if it pleases you, guard-mistress Fiona madam, truly the mistress is a stunningly beautiful young woman, madam, and would inevitably be seen as attractive by any heterosexual man, miss, if it pleases you miss? But this slave regrets that he is not a real man miss, being a slave, and therefore being in no position to harbour amorous intentions towards his superiors such as yourself, pretty officer-madam, if you would be so kind and understanding towards an humble prisoner-slave at your mercy please don’t beat me mistress?’
She sniggers down at me from her taskmistressly seat of power and authority high above and in front of me, and then ostentatiously hitches up her navy blue, uniform trouser-legs in order to deliberately expose her black uniform boots and socks to me in all their glory:
‘Haha! I suppose not, slave. But what about my boots and socks? Do you fancy them, though? After all, they’re more on your level, not just literally but also socially and intellectually. You might stand a chance in copping off with them, innit though? What do you think, slave? Are you sexually attracted to my boots and socks in front of your sweating face?’
This, of course, is an even trickier question for a lowly prisoner-slave to answer and teasing, all-powerful guard-mistress Ms Fiona madam knows it! On the one hand she knows it is inevitablethat a prisoner-slave’s sexual desires will be sublimated towards his guards’ boots and socks, since he spends so much time with them. But on the other hand a prisoner-slave is in no position to do anything about his desires, since he is obliged by law to respect his guards’ footwear, and show decorum towards them – kissing and worshipping them yes, but in a respectful and fearful way; not lasciviously as a kinky lover might do!
Once again I must tread carefully with my answer as I tread carefully on the wheel:
‘Oh pray, guard-mistress Fiona madam! Oh pray! Oh your boots and socks, madam! Oh bliss, madam! Truly your boots and socks are things to be admired, mistress, as they protect and beautify your feet, madam, if you would be so kind and understanding madam, thanking you kindly for your kind question madam? But this dirty prisoner-slave is not worthy to have any sexual designs on your boots and socks, madam, since they are the boots and socks of his taskmistress, madam, and he is here to please you, and your boots and socks, with hard work, madam, if you would be so kind and understanding, madam, please don’t hurt me madam I will be a good prisoner-slave, miss?’
It seems that mocking Ms Fiona just won’t take no for an answer:
‘Ha! Ha! You’re pathetic, slave! I know you want to ask my boots and socks out on a date! Go ahead and ask them – ask them out and see what reaction you get! After all, what have you got to lose, other than your ‘pride’, and perhaps some more skin off your back courtesy of my whip?’
It seems I have no choice. I am effectively being ordered by guard-mistress Ms Fiona madam, under pain of the whip, to ask her lovely boots and socks out on a date! This means trouble!
‘Oh pray, mistress Fiona madam. As you mish, taskmistress ms Fiona madam… Oh mistress Fiona’s boots and socks. If it pleases you, guard-mistress Fiona’s boots and socks? Truly this lowly prisoner-slave is most enamoured by you, and desiring of your feminine company, if you would be so kind and understanding to a weak and helpless prisoner in your power and at your mercy, mistresses the boots and socks? Oh pray, mistresses, please don’t take offence mistresses and please don’t hurt me mistresses, but would you kindly do this wretched prisoner-slave the honour of accompanying him on a date, mistresses, if you would be so kind and magnanimous towards a lowly work-wheel slave, superior mistresses the boots and socks?’
Ms Fiona, the self-appointed spokesperson for her boots and socks, says they wish to have more information on my proposal for a romantic date with them. Where, for example, am I proposing to take them? And what are my prospects in life? Needless to say, I must answer them truthfully, thereby demonstrating precisely why I am such a lonely and impotent prisoner-slave, and always will be:
‘Oh pray, guard-mistress Fiona’s boots and socks, thank you for your kind questions, guard-mistress Fiona’s most beautiful boots and socks, and for not punishing me, merciful boots and socks. Oh pretty boots and socks, this slave regrets that he is unable to escort you anywhere nice, mistresses, as he is confined for life on this heavy work-wheel, mistresses, if you would be so kind and understanding, mistresses? However, he was hoping against hope that, if it pleases the mistresses, perhaps their owner would consent to her leaving them with him at the end of her shift, so that he might kiss and worship them properly here in his work dungeon, if you would be so kind and understanding mistresses? As for this prisoner-slave’s prospects in life, madams, this slave regrets to inform you that he has none, being naught but lowly prisoner-slave condemned to a life of toil on the work wheel, mistresses, if you will forgive him, mistresses, please don’t beat me mistresses!’
Ms Fiona’s response to my cringeworthy offer of a date with her discarded boots and socks is predictably dismissive:
‘My boots and socks say you’re stupid, slave! How do you expect me to walk home without any boots and socks on my feet? Do you expect me to go barefoot? Imbecile! Moron! And besides, my boots and socks say they find you deeply unattractive. You’re ugly as well as thick. So they say ‘thanks but no thanks’, and that you should just get on with your work! Haha! Seems like your amorous advances have been rejected, slave! Don’t you feel like a total loser – unable to even woo a girl’s boots and socks! Haha!’
‘Oh pray, ms Fiona. Yes indeed, ms Fiona madam! But your boots and socks are quite right to reject me, mistress. I’m just a slave, and not worthy to spend time alone in their presence. Pray forgive my stupidity, mistress. I don’t know what I was thinking, madam!’
‘Shut up now, slave, and get on with your work!
Swish…crack!
The burning sting of guard-mistress Ms Fiona’s whip across my bare back and shoulder brings me back to the grim reality of my wheel, my work, the whip, and the unattainability of her beautiful boots and socks. Having initially thrown back my head in pain, I humbly lower it again over her boots, and vow to myself to continue to tread carefully on the treadmill work wheel!
