Patheticus Minimus 3D

A superb young woman of the Gynarchy - and a smoker, to boot (thus my infinite  superior!) - walks purposefully towards me in her tracksuit, white socks and sneakers.  She stops in front of me and I hear her taking a drag on her cigarette high above me before her female voice, tinged with an East European accent, brusquely orders me to kiss her foot. And with that, she duly extends her right, sneakered foot towards my low-lying, confined face for respect-kissing. I kiss her sneaker purposefully and worshipfully, as befits a slave kissing the feet of his master or mistress. She continues to enjoy her cigarette above me as she deftly switches her feet in front of my face. Once again my forlorn face is confronted by pure white, feminine sock as my lowly lips make meaningful contact with her arrogantly outstretched sneaker-toe. She observes me at work from on high and in disdainful silence - as befits a superior young woman watching a pathetic, male slave grovel at her feet. Then,...

As a prisoner-slave confined in the public stocks, I am subject to hourly humiliations - even at the most ungodly of hours! Here you see me having to kiss-respect the feet of a bright young woman and her boyfriend when it's gone way  after midnight! It's the young woman who takes the lead in my late-night humiliation. She asks me how I am liking it - having to stare at her sneakers and socks that have been on her feet all day? I humbly, and truthfully, confirm that I like it, but not that  much, begging her female pardon and understanding madam? My humbling view of the side of her sock... ...close enough to see the individual rows of stitching! I'm treading on thin ice here, for a slave must never denigrate  his betters' footwear, whilst at the same time he must convey his sense of utter humiliation at his lowly and impotent position! I must therefore praise the young woman's sneakers and socks, but in sad and anguished tones! She kindly puts me out of my misery by ...

On inspection And reflection My customer-mistress Is perfection. I kiss her feet Out on the street A better girl I'll never meet! Late at night, a perfect young woman approaches me from across the square The closer she gets, the more perfect she looks Even her arrogant, self-confident stance when she stops in front of me, with one sneakered foot resting at a devil-may-care angle, is perfect! She first crouches down to my lowly level in order to mock me to my confined face... ...before imposing her right sneakered foot on my menial mouth. I must respectfully kiss it! She then does the same with her left sneaker Not only are her sneakers perfection... ...her socks are too! What a privilege, what an honour, to serve such perfection in the dead of night! This is where gorgeous goddesshood meets gormless gimp... ...and the gormless gimp must publicly demonstrate his innate inferiority! Nobody bats an eyelid What could be more natural than a pathetic, head-in-the-wall, public footslave ...