Breaking The Ice

She has become a regular visitor to my humble head, but she never speaks to me – even though she is very good at manipulating her foot around my tongue so that it can get into every nook and cranny of her dirty sneaker-soles. I therefore decide to try and ‘break the ice’:

‘Oh pray, pretty mistress, if you will forgive my impertinence, pretty customer-mistress, this slave likes your socks, miss.’

Her response is immediate. She angrily crouches down to my face, close enough for me to smell the remains of her last meal on her breath, and berates me in a strong Indian accent, though with perfect English:

‘Shut your stupid face, slave! Lick my shoes and shut your ugly mouth!’

Needless to say, I dare not point out to the pretty, Indian customer-mistress the illogicality of her commandment (how can I possibly lick her sneaker and shut my mouth at the same time?!). But she’s right, in that my mouth is ugly. I therefore humbly obey – suitably chastened by one of my female betters. I shut up, and lick shoe!

Eventually she turns to walk away from me, turning her back on me in young-womanly contempt. And rightly so, for I’m just a slave. As she does so, I can’t even see her socks, as they are hidden down the backs of her sneakers. But I feel honoured to have tasted where she has been walking and hope she will visit me again at her convenience.










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