Regular customer-mistress Ms Mukta madam is delighting in telling me about all the parties she and her husband have recently been to, whilst I am lickshining her dirty sneakers. She mockingly asks me if I have been to any good parties recently, and I humbly and respectfully respond that I have not been to any parties since:
- I am just a public footslave, permanently tethered to my shoelick-stand
- Because I am just a slave, nobody would ever dream of inviting me to any parties
- Even if they did, I would have to politely decline the offer, as I permanently have work to do, lickshining the public's shoes and boots, begging her female pardon and forgiveness?
Ms Mukta laughs at me and pretends she had forgotten that I am manacled to my shoelick stand and therefore can't go anywhere. She, again mockingly, asks me whether I don't wish I could be her, and her husband's, personal footslave, so that I could accompany them to their various parties to heel? She points out that I would get to see their more glamorous footwear, rather than just her smelly old sneakers and socks!
I humbly respond to Ms Mukta madam that, whilst to be her and her husband's personal footservant and accompany them to parties would be the greatest honour a slave like me could ever have, I could never be worthy of such an honour, since my humble job is to lick the public's dirty shoes and boots 24/7, 365 days a year, again begging her female pardon?
I do find myself, however, imagining what it would be like to accompany a glamorously-attired Ms Mukta madam and her husband to a party in the capacity of their personal footservant, now that Ms Mukta madam has so cruelly conjured up such an intriguing image in my menial, municipal mind!
 |
| Dutifully lickshining Ms Mukta's dirty sneakers whilst she regales me with stories of her party-going |
 |
| As I taste the dirt she has been walking in I must listen to the happy times she has recently been spending partying with her husband |
 |
| I admire Ms Mukta's red sock whilst she excitedly tells me about her wonderful, partying lifestyle |
 |
| She then mockingly asks me if I have been to any good parties lately? |
 |
| In between continuing to lickshine her sneakers, I must humbly explain to Ms Mukta madam that I am prohibited from going to parties |
 |
| She knows that full well of course, and is just 'rubbing it in'! |
 |
| She leaves me wide-eyed with wonderment, however, when she plants the idea of my being her personal footservant, and thus accompanying her to parties in that humiliating capacity! |
 |
| She points out that, instead of her 'smelly old' sneakers and socks, I would get to see her more 'glamorous' footwear! |
 |
I like Ms Mukta's unglamorous sneakers and socks, but it would certainly be intriguing, and an honour, to keel behind her partywear high-heels!
|
 |
Whilst I humbly continue with my task in menial mouth, I begin to visualise what it would be like to accompany customer-mistress Ms Mukta madam, and her husband, to a party...
----------------------------------------------------------------------- |
 |
| Kneeling respectfully behind Ms Mukta madam, and her husband, at an imagined party |
 |
| She is wearing a short skirt and glamorous high heels! |
 |
I, of course, must focus on the backs of her heels...
 | ...as befits a party-going, personal footslave!
|
|
 |
| Not for me the party drinks and warm conversation |
 |
| Indeed, everyone ignores me. I'm just a glamorous couple's personal footservant... |
 |
| ...forbidden to look at, or even think about, my pretty mistress above the ankle! |
Comments
Post a Comment
Please note all comments are subject to moderation by the blog author prior to publication