Her True Colours

The bright young woman is only pretending to be friendly towards me. Before she has me kiss-respect her feet, she mock-sympathises with my predicament, saying it must be awful for me having to kiss people's dirty shoes and boots all day long - and all night? She then seemingly expresses sweet feminine sympathy for my 'poor neck', which must be 'very stiff and sore' in its heavy, iron neck-shackle?

After I have humbly thanked her for her kind remarks, her mood changes and she reveals her true colours by curtly ordering me to kiss her feet. I can sense her sniggering at me as I humbly obey her. 

She then turns and walks away from me, without any further words of sympathy - or, indeed, any words at all! 

She looks nice and sympathetic as she makes her way towards me through the weeds

I just hope this young woman won't hurt me - for, like all who encounter me, she has power over me

I brace myself

Her shoes and socks initially seem to express sympathy for me

But they soon show their true colours by curtly ordering me to kiss them

These are everyday plain black shoes with plain grey socks...

...though worn by a stunningly beautiful young woman


She now looks down on me with contempt - not sympathy...

...the contempt with which a superior being views an inferior...

...an inferior who must kiss her feet!

I hear her take a relaxing drag on her cigarette high above me - without, of course, offering me one!

Smoking is not for slaves; nor drinking; nor even eating proper human food!

As far as she is concerned, I am there merely to kiss feet - the feet of my betters

And she smirkingly knows she is very much my better...

...just as I know I am very much her inferior!

 

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