Patheticus Minimus 3D

This beautiful, blonde customer-mistress is distracted by what’s on her phone, so without saying a word to me she plonks her sneakered foot down onto the wooden footblock beneath my face and I start to lick. To be honest, I too am distracted – by her sock; a fetching, short grey sneaker-sock with a black upper trim. I want to be that sock, or at least a stitch in the sock, for it is the sock of a goddess. I want my whole being to be absorbed in her precious, blonde-feminine footsweat, and I want to reek of her foot inside her sneaker. But, sadly all too soon, her sock turns its back on me and walks off with her, leaving me dreaming of another life I might have lived had fate been kinder to me – that of being a beautiful girl’s sock inside her sneaker!

The beautiful, blonde businesswoman is not only smartly-dressed; she is also, quite clearly, smart and intelligent as she imposes her smart footwear on my menial mouth.

Her soft skin shall never know the searing sting of the lash, Her shapely mouth shall never taste the bitter bile of shoeleather. Her luscious lips shall never feel the roughness of chipped toenail, Her pretty eyes shall never witness the foreboding female boot. Her Nubian nose shall never inhale the odour of unwashed foot, Her dainty ears shall never hear the harsh words of commandment. For she is female, and therefore free. Unlike me.

Everything about this customer-mistress is perfection! From her purple-dyed hair; to the moles on her pretty face; to her ‘bovver’ jacket; to her culotte-style pants worn at half mast; to her bright blue bootsocks; to her shiny, black leather ‘bovver’ boots. And, to top it all, she’s a smoker! I really am staring perfection in the face as I kiss-respect her arrogantly outstretched boot-toe. This is such an honour for me – and she knows it, though she says nothing. I stare at the backs of her boots and socks forlornly as they nonchalantly turn to walk away from me.