Goddess Socks





































Joy of joys – customer-mistress Ms Mukta madam is back! She explains that she has been away on holiday to India with her husband Simon – staying with some of her relatives there – and that they had a fantastic time. She says India is a wonderful country and it’s a shame I can never go there – not even as a slave to serve her relatives’ feet! However, she has some good news for me – one of her cousins in India, Ms Seema madam, will be visiting the Gynarchy shortly on a reciprocal visit, so she will bring her cousin along to see me so that I can serve her footwear. Ms Mukta then counsels me to show the utmost respect to her cousin Seema’s feet and footwear, and not to ‘embarrass her’ in front of her guest, otherwise, she says, she will have me taken out of my wall and severely whipped; then put back into my wall for a week; then taken out again and whipped again etc. until my back will ‘need several skin grafts in order to re-cover my bare, exposed shoulderblades with new skin’!

I shudder at the thought of losing all my existing back skin to the whip, and seek to assure Ms Mukta madam that I will indeed do everything in my humble power to show respect and admiration for her cousin’s feet and footwear when she visits my public shoelick stand. Ms Mukta merely responds that ‘I better had’!

Just as importantly, I note today that Ms Mukta is wearing fancy new socks inside her sneakers – or, at least, socks I have never seen on her pretty feet before. They are stripy, pastel-coloured affairs. I compliment Ms Mukta on her new socks and she laughs and asks me whether I like them? I reply that I like them very much and that they are the most wonderful socks I have ever seen, because they are her socks, and she is a goddess. She then, graciously, hitches up her blue denim jean hem and permits me to nose her ‘goddess-socks’, before finally reminding me, just before turning to leave, that I must show the same respect for her Indian cousin Ms Seema’s socks. I promise wholeheartedly to nose Ms Seema madam’s socks with the same degree of respect, admiration and humility, providing, of course, Ms Seema permits me to nose her socks, since I am just a slave and need the kind permission of my betters to touch their footwear with my nose, lips or tongue, if Ms Mukta madam would be so kind and understanding towards me?

Ms Mukta just laughs at me, and withdraws her sneakers and socks from my face before walking off without saying a further word. Let’s hope the next time I see her glorious sneakers and socks they are accompanied by the feet and footwear of her magnificent Indian cousin, Ms Seema madam!
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P.S.  True to her word, about a week later Ms Mukta madam did indeed bring along her cousin, Ms Seems madam, to visit me and to have her shoes kissed and socks nosed. And very nice socks they were too – plain black anklesocks, worn with a pair of cheap, white loafers. It was truly an honour for the likes of me to nose the black socks of such an esteemed guest to the Gynarchy, and I made sure to also verbally praise Ms Seema madam’s socks just as I would routinely praise customer-mistress Ms Mukta’s socks (the latter, incidentally, was wearing her familiar bright blue socks with pink heart-logos on this happy occasion, so it was a truly good sock day all round!)

Having thoroughly humiliated me with their goddess socks, the two brilliant Indian girls then turned to walk away from me and, as they did so, I overheard Ms Mukta explaining to her guest that there is nothing they can’t do to a public humble head like me. They can even arrange to have me taken out of my wall and publicly whipped in the town square. Ms Seema madam replied that she would love to witness the public whipping of a slave and that’s where the two bright and beautiful young women duly headed off towards – the town square whipping post!
















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