For Her Sport

For many customers, even strangers, I am just a plaything for them to toy with. Take the bright young woman with the beaming smile who is walking confidently towards me. During the course of my kiss-respecting her feet, she (falsely) accuses me of looking at her bare leg above the sock. She therefore promises to have me whipped!

But she was always going to accuse me of something - any excuse to have a slave whipped for her sport!

She walks swiftly towards me - oozing self-confidence!

I rather fancy this bright-looking young woman has come to toy with me? She's probably one of those girls who uses an app on her phone to find the locations of all the local public humble-heads!

Sure enough, as she comes to a halt in front of me, she gleefully informs me that I am about to kiss her feet!

She also 'strongly advises' me to keep my eyes on her socks, out of respect for both her and for them, and NOT to look at her above the sock!

I quickly confirm my compliance with her female will, not least because I certainly do admire and respect her dark grey socks - especially the curvature in the columns of stitching!

These are clearly 'experienced' sneakers and socks - well used to being served by slaves and a pair of sneakers and socks that absolutely MUST be obeyed!

For their pretty wearer self-evidently delights in humiliating public footservants!

Still smiling triumphantly, the perfect young woman extends her right, sneakered and socked foot up to my menial mouth...

...swiftly followed by her left

I hear her giggling at my slavish humiliation at her ordinary-everyday footwear!

I'm just a feetkissing weed, down amongst the other weeds! (Feetkissicus Patheticus to give me my full Latin name!)

The submissive, male weed obediently kisses the arrogantly outstretched, female sneakers...

...and keeps its lowly eyes on the accompanying outstretched socks!

Such a SUPERB sock! Why wouldn't I be looking at it in footslavish awe and wonderment?

My customers' socks are my life - and this pretty customer's socks are no exception!

She appears to be teasingly hitching up her jean leg in order to reveal a tiny slither of her soft, bare legflesh above the sock!

She then fake-apologises to me for so 'wantonly' exposing her bare leg to me (despite the fact she is wearing ripped jeans!) and leans down to 'adjust' her jean leg!

I now have the added indignity of having to interrupt my sneaker-kissing in order to watch the young woman adjusting her lower trouser leg!

My humbling view of her hand on her sock!

Having successfully corrected her wonky jean leg, all I can see again is her sock. So all's well that end's well!

Except that, having taken a step back from my face, the young woman goes on to express her 'disappointment' at my disobeying her order NOT to look at her above the sock. She accuses me of lusting after her bare leg, and vows to have me sorely whipped!

She then turns to gigglingly leave me!
She's had her sport...

...and enjoyed every minute of it!

And she has successfully engineered an excuse to have me publicly flogged!

All power to her elbow!

This bright young woman is, quite simply, a winner!

The irony is that I, the loser, get another inadvertent glimpse of her bare leg as she walks away from me!





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