Patheticus Minimus 3D

Whenever a masked sockieboy-slave accompanies his pretty mistress to the cinema he doesn't get to see or hear the movie. Rather, he must curl up into a kneeling ball next to her feet and focus on her socks. A personal sockieboy-slave, crawling dutifully behind his mistress's boots and socks as she makes her way down the cinema aisle He continues to humbly follow her on his hands and knees as she makes her way to her seat As soon as she is settled, the pathetic sockieboy-slave must curl up into a kneeling ball next to his mistress's feet He shall now spend the entire movie studying the subliminal movements in his mistress's socks... ...whilst she focuses on the movie She is effectively oblivious to her sockieboy's presence at her booted and socked feet, so wrapped up is she in the movie! He, meanwhile, is 'wrapped up' in her socks Or perhaps a better phrase to use would be 'enraptured' by her socks! His lowly sockieboy view of his mistress's right

It gives my master-sir's pretty girlfriend a great deal of pleasure to watch me massaging her fat boyfriend's sweaty, bare feet. Oh how I secretly wish it was her  pretty, pedicured feet that I was massaging right now! It amuses the pretty mistress to witness me humbly massaging her fat boyfriend's sweaty, bare feet 'Make sure you get your scrawny fingers deep in between my toes, boy!... ...I want all of the sweat and stink transferred onto your hands! You hear me, boy?' 'Yes, master sir. I obey you, master sir. Please don't beat me, sir!' 'Your feet are my gods, sir!' The mistress chuckles behind me as I abase myself at my master's feet Oh to be massaging her  pretty, perfumed and pedicured feet! The feet of a goddess! But slaves can't be choosers, and right now I must focus all my attention on sweaty male feet! They are still, after all, the feet of my better - of my esteemed master-sir! Such a magnificent man! A man with a beautiful gi

'Simon and I are off to a pub quiz, sockieboy. Don't you wish you could come with us and study our socks while we answer the quiz questions?' It's a rhetorical question. Of course I wish I could do so: 'Oh pray, mistress Mukta madam. That would be truly wonderful, mistress Mukta madam. And a real honour for the likes of lowly me, madam!' 'Haha - mind you, you wouldn't be much help with answering any of the questions, would you? Unless they just so happened to be about our socks?' 'No mistress Mukta madam, begging your pardon, mistress Mukta madam. I am stupid, miss. All I know about is my customers' socks, madam!' Master Simon sir chuckles at his wife's witty remarks. But her jocular tone soon turns to one of dominance: 'Kiss our feet, slave!' And with that, she shoves her right booted foot towards my menial, confined mouth. After I have kissed BOTH her boots, she graciously takes a step back and invites her husband to have h