Courtesy Kiss

When out dining in a restaurant or cafe, my mistress Mukta will often insist that I kiss the waitress's feet. And rightly so, for, even though the waitress is not serving me any food or drink, she is, like everyone else, my infinite superior - and must therefore be respected and worshipped by me.

'Slave, kiss the waitress's feet!'

The delighted waitress stretches forth her right, sneakered foot towards my menial mouth

Much to my mistress's husband's amusement I humbly kiss the pretty waitress's outstretched feet, one after the other

The pretty waitress gratefully thanks my mistress for the slavish courtesy being afforded to her

I am acutely aware of how dominantly the waitress's socks tower over my humble head!

These are the sneakers and socks of my better, and must be worshipped and admired!

I particularly admire the little logos at the tops of the waitress-mistress's socks

I am, of course, surrounded by the shoes and socks of my betters!

How they all glory in my humiliation at their feet!

And rightly so, for I am just a pathetic, whipped slave at their combined mercy!

Kissing feet and admiring socks is all I am good for!

I'm just a sneaker-kissing, sock-subservient slave!


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