As I humbly bathe my mistress's bare feet after her long, hard shift at the male prison, I am acutely aware that I shall in all probability be ordered to also mouthwash her dirty, sweaty socks - just as soon as she comes off the phone!
I fear my oral sock-washing task, as I know they will taste vile!
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| My mistress, relaxing on the phone whilst I humbly bathe her sweaty, post-work feet |
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| Her feet, by rights, should be the absolute focus of my slavish attention right now... |
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| ...whilst she is preoccupied with her phone conversation high above me |
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| But it's her nearby discarded boots and socks that actually concern me the most... |
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| ...as I know from past experience that I shall soon be ordered to mouthwash those dirty socks |
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| And those socks shall be sweaty! |
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| They will inevitably taste vile! |
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| Yet my feckless face must not grimace at the humbling, sweaty taste soon to adorn my menial mouth! |
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| Otherwise, it will mean more stinging-red whipmarks for my bare back! |
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| And I do fear the WHIP more than I fear the socks! |
