Back From Her Tennis Match

My mistress Mukta is just back from her tennis match. As her front-porch footkisser it is, of course, my role to humbly greet her sweaty tennis shoes and socks by kissing her feet as she enters her home – obviously before she has showered. It is a truly humbling experience for me – as, indeed, it’s meant to be! All that female energy and sweat, so close to my face; and I am powerless to do anything about it, other than submit to it. Indeed, my face is so close to my mistress’s feet, I can even see the individual lines of stitching in her white tennis socks as I kiss-respect her grubby, pink and white tennis sneakers – and they are a finely stitched pair of socks, designed to absorb sweat! Only a slave, like me, would ever get close enough to the socks to observe such fine details in them. Her socks may look pristine clean, but inside her sneakers they must surely be damp with moisture from her soft, feminine footpores?

It’s a truly humbling thought as I kiss my mistress’s arrogantly outstretched tennis-sneaker toe.

As ever, my mistress doesn’t speak to me. I am too far beneath her on the social scale to ever be considered worthy to engage in a conversation with her. My menial mouth must do all its talking through the humble action of kissing her feet. Such a self-humbling act on my part says all that needs to be said – I am the slave and she is the master. And the front door is still open for passers-by to see that, if they care to look at the everyday humbling of a front-porch feetkisser by his superior mistress. But if truth be told, it’s nothing remarkable here in the Gynarchy of Barbaria – indeed it’s a scene repeated thousands of times every day, up and down the country!












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