Taking A Breather
























It's a superb start to the day - kissing the feet of an early morning jogger, and especially one so pretty! What makes it even more thrilling is that the young woman's tracksuit-bottom hems ride up as she stretches forth her feet to reveal even more of her white socks!

She's somewhat breathless from her exertions and therefore says nothing to me, which means I am forbidden to speak to her (the Law states I must not initiate a conversation with my customers, my betters, 'unless there is an immediate threat to their life or limb'), but if I could speak I would tell her of my fervent wish to become her personal footslave, crawling after her on my hands and knees to sneakered heel and doing my best to keep up with her as she jogs through the streets. I would ensure my eyes remained focussed on the backs of her white socks, observing and pondering any creases in those socks as I would doubtless be held responsible for them by her, in my capacity as her personal footslave, and would therefore be liable for a taste of her whip when we get back home!

But all of that, of course, is just a pipe dream. I am, sadly, not her personal footslave, and never will be. She is just using me to have her feet kissed whilst she takes a quick breather, and all too soon she resumes her jog, leaving me behind in the dirt - motionless and stationary as I always am. I never get to go anywhere!

I bow my head in disappointment and shame at how unfit I am as this bright and fit young woman jogs on!

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