I really do get the best possible view of my customers' socks from my lowly, public-shoelick position. And it really does compensate for the vile tastes and musty smells of their well-used and dirty boot or shoe leather!
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| Late at night, a big-boned customer mistress steps up onto the podium of power in front of me |
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| 'Shine my boots, boy, and make sure you lick off all the crud!' |
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| 'Yes, mistress madam. At once, mistress madam. It will be my honour to lickshine your boots for you!' |
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| Though satisfied with my humility, she seems unimpressed by my lowliness! |
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| Like most of my esteemed customers, she quickly switches her attention to her phone... |
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| ...whilst I must taste her vile, musty-smelling, late-night bootleather! |
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| It's, shall we say, an 'acquired' taste - and one I have yet to fully acquire... |
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| ...despite my many years of enslavement at this public shoelick-stand! |
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| But licking vile-tasting boots has its compensations... |
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| ...notably, the close-up and very personal view I get of my customers' socks! |
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| I look up to the socks, of course - both literally and figuratively |
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| I often think the sock-wearers are blissfully unaware of just how impressive their socks are - to a slave! |
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| After all, these socks are my betters - being the socks of a young woman! |
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| I am privileged to even breathe in the same air as her socks! |
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| I must confess, I wouldn't swap my lowly sock-vista for anything. I'm garbage! |
