Conversation of Unequals
Beautiful, off-duty prison officer customer mistress, Ms Suzannah madam, who is on her way home after a late shift, is such a kind, feminine soul. She always makes the effort to have a friendly chat with me as she takes up her seat on the public-shoelick throne of female power high above me:
‘How has your day been, slave?’
‘Oh pray, mistress Suzannah madam, thanking you kindly madam, I have had a very good day madam, serving the boots and shoes of my many wonderful customer masters and mistresses, thanking you kindly for your kind question, madam. And yourself, madam? Have you had a good day, miss?’
‘Yes indeed. We had a new prisoner on the wing today, so I was responsible for delivering his induction whipping!’
‘Oh praise be to you, mistress! God bless you, mistress! Might I humbly enquire, Ms Suzannah madam, when you deliver such induction whippings do you go easy on the prisoner and show him mercy, or do you whip him with all your might, madam?’
‘Aww, bless! What a sweet question, slave! Haha! Of course I whip him with all my might, otherwise it’s not fair on him. He needs to know exactly what to expect from the whip, and to experience just how much pain it can inflict on him. That’s precisely why we always whip our prisoners on arrival. In any case, whenever I whip, I alwayswhip to cut, and I cut to hurt!’
‘Yes indeed, madam, as my own back can sorely testify madam, please don’t beat me tonight madam I will be a good slave to you this evening madam!’
‘Anyhow, down to business slave! I want you to give my boots a thorough lickshine. Begin with my right boot. Lick away all the dirt and grime. Start with the bottom of my sole and slowly work your way up to the very top of my boot. Make sure you get all the dust and dirt out from the eyelets beneath the laces as you make your way up. Then, when your tongue finally reaches the upper rim of my boot, start nosing the elasticated top of my thick, grey bootsock – but only trace your nose down every other line of stitching in the sock. I haven’t got time for you to nose every single line of stitching. Is that clear, slave?’
‘Yes indeed, mistress Suzannah madam, thanking you kindly for your kind instructions, madam. I will obey you madam. Please don’t hurt me, miss.’
As you can hear, I am always deeply respectful of off-duty customer mistress Ms Suzannah madam, despite her apparent friendliness. For I know from bitter experience that her mood can quickly turn from one of sweet feminine gentility to one of biting cruelty with the whip – as is her perfect right. She is, after all, my infinite better at the end of the day!
‘And make sure you don’t touch my bare leg above the sock, slave, or you’ll earn yourself 100 lashes!’
‘Yes, miss. I mean, no miss! God bless you, miss. I obey you, miss!’
The conversation of unequals is now well and truly over, and she looks down on me in silence as I proceed to lickshine her right boot in accordance with her detailed instructions, her whip hovering in the cold, night air never far from my back. I make sure to well and truly bury my face in her boot, for as she herself has made crystal clear, her natural, female instinct is to whip, and to whip hard. I very much fear the whip, and so my natural, slavish instinct is always to obey the superior whip-holder!
