Shut-Eye
It's late at night and most people have gone to bed. I too would love to be able to get some shut-eye! But a public footservant's work is never done - and if a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, wide-awake young woman wants her boots lickshined in the middle of the night, then lickshined they must be!
'You down there! The slave! My boots need shining. Lick them!'
Suddenly my field of blurry-eyed vision is filled with a fat white girl's black boots and socks!
'Yes, mistress. At once, mistress!'
The most frustrating thing is - her boots are already perfectly clean and shiny! Not that I dare dell her that, of course, for in the Gynarchy of Barbaria a girl is never wrong!
Afterwards she crouches down to mock me:
'Aww... did I wake you up, slave? I'm sorry - but my boots are much more important than your shut-eye, aren't they?'
'Yes, mistress.Thanking you kindly, mistress. Please don't beat me, madam.'
She blows her cigarette smoke triumphantly into my face and merrily waltzes off. It stings my eyes. As I watch her fat, freshly-licked boots turn and walk away from me, I ponder how I have certainly danced to her tune tonight. What a superb young woman she is, and what a powerless loser I am. I have the lingering taste of her bootleather in my mouth; the sting of her cigarette smoke watering my bleary eyes; and the memory of her black bootsocks emblazoned on my menial mind!
I shan't get any shut-eye for the rest of the night. I feel much too humiliated - and stimulated!
