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Showing posts from November, 2021

Backstreet Bootscraper

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In the Gynarchy's major cities many backstreets and alleyways have human bootscrapers embedded in the ground for pedestrians to use as they see fit!

Summoning The Dirt

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'DIRT, COME HERE!' The motel guests often refer to me as 'dirt', because that's all I am - a dirty, motel-room footslave. The irony is, of course, that I must spend most of my time cleaning the dirt from the esteemed guests' shoes, boots, socks and feet! 'Clean my boot, dirt!' 'Yes, mistress madam. At once, mistress madam!' I set about tasting where this guest-mistress has been walking By licking the sole of her boot Simultaneously I admire her sock She continues to casually smoke her cigarette above me Technically, smoking in the motel rooms is forbidden But I'm not going to be the one to summon up the courage to tell her! It's not my place to do so. I'm just a dirty slave! My place is to lickshine her boots And admire her socks!  

Most Important Boots He'll Kiss

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The most important boots the foothole-prisoner must kiss every month, through the hatch of his foothole-cell, are the boots of the stern-faced prison inspectress mistress. That's because she's not there to ensure that his welfare is being looked after by the prison authorities, or that the conditions in his cell are humane. Rather, her important job is to inspect his ongoing prisoner-slave humility at the feet of his female betters - and, if she's NOT so satisfied, she can instruct that he be whipped! So the condemned prisoner-slave makes sure that he kisses her boots very well - not that her departing demeanour gives any clues as to whether he has passed the test! The familiar boots of the prison-inspectress mistress approach She stops outside his cell to survey the prisoner She then puts his bootkissing ability to the test The wretched prisoner knows he must do a good job on her boots For she has it in her power to have him sorely whipped! The prisoner can see just a hint