Sometimes, whenever Ms Mukta is in a foul mood, she steps out into her back passageway in order to have a calming cigarette and to take out her frustrations on me - either verbally or physically, or both! I am, of course, a sitting duck for her to take out her young-womanly anger upon, but tonight, mercifully, I am 'fortunate' in that it is just her verbal abuse that I must suffer as I humbly and terrifiedingly kiss her BLACK LEATHER BOOTS in the darkness! 'Kiss my boots, f***wit slave!... F***ing moron!' 'Yes, mistress Mukta madam. At once, mistress Mukta madam. Please don't hurt me, mistress?' She angrily mimics my pathetic plea: 'Oh please don't hurt me, mistress!... F***WIT!' She's right, of course. I am a 'f***wit'. And a frightened footslave! Ms Mukta takes out her anger and frustrations on me, her back passageway footslave 'Kiss my boots, f***wit slave!... F***ing moron!' One can only hope her late-night cigarette wil...
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