What Could Be Lonelier?

Q What could be lonelier than being a public humble head out on the mean streets of the Gynarchy on a bitterly cold winter's night?

A  A public humble head without a pair of warming, sheepskin boots to lick!


























Points to note about this scene:

  • The slave's customer-mistress is well wrapped up against the cold. Judging by the stony expression on her pretty face she doesn't much care if the semi-naked slave, buried up to his neck in the snowy ground, is shivering with cold. All she cares about is the state of her boots - and they must be cleaned
  • The humble-head slave is actually grateful for the feel of warm, sheepskin boot on his freezing tongue
  • However, the customer-mistress has no accompanying warm words for the slave. He must lick her boots in frigid silence, for she is better than him and he is much too far down the social pecking order for her to deign to converse with him. Soon she will be gone, leaving him with only the warm memory of her boots and socks!

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