There is a distinct autumnal chill in the air as the silent and surly customer-mistress who is, after all, not my friend, imposes her autumnal footwear on my menial mouth. And rightly so - for that's what I'm here for. I'm just a toepath slave!
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| A potential customer-mistress walks towards me through the autumnal chill |
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| I hope her bare legs aren't cold! |
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| Her feet, at any rate, look nice and cosy inside her shoes and socks |
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| The shoes and socks say nothing, though their body language betrays their sense of superiority |
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| Sure enough, the right shoe is unceremoniously shoved onto my menial mouth! |
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| The right sock, simultaneously, towers over my humble head! |
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| Oh how I would dearly love to unbuckle that shoe and sniff the innermost sock! |
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| But it is, sadly, not my role to sniff sock. My role is to kiss shoe! |
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| So I obediently do just that - including her other shoe when she switches her autumnal feet |
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| She seems unimpressed by my humility at her feet! |
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| Just another public footslave, doing his humble duty! |
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| She moves off as silently as she had come... |
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| ...leaving me to rot in the autumnal dirt behind her |
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| She knows she's too superior to speak to the likes of lowly me! |
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| I'm not even worthy to look her in the leg! |
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| I must exist at the lowly level of her feet... |
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| ...and specifically of her shoes and socks! |
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| I humbly and discreetly watch the backs of her shoes and socks as they walk away from me |
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| Oh to be the full-time, personal servant of those fabulous, female shoes and socks! |
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| But, again, I am not worthy! |
