Way past midnight, a magnificent young woman mocks me mercilessly in the stocks, before making me kiss-respect her feet!
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'Haha, how are you liking it, slave, being out here alone in the stocks all night?'
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'Kiss my foot!'
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'That's right, boy, kiss my foot and study my sock!'
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'You're pafetic, innit though?'
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'Can you see the creases in my socks, though?'
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'Do you like them, though?'
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'Kiss my other foot now, boy!'
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'Haha - that's right! Kissy footie; looky sockie!'
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'Kiss your mistress's feet!'
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'For, right now, I am your mistress, innit though?'
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'Haha, and you is my personal footkisser-slave!'
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'Keep kissing, slave boy. Don't stop until I tell you!'
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