Not All Trainers

It's not all trainers in the leisure centre where I am employed as a corridor footslave. Sometimes I get to kiss-respect the boots of the pretty receptionist.

Her boots clip-clop down the empty corridor towards me

She turns to face me...

...and, rightly, looks down on me with the female contempt I deserve!

She then, silently, shoves her booted foot towards my menial mouth for routine respect-kissing...

...swiftly followed by her other boot

This is a young woman who knows my proper place - and it's at her feet kissing her boots!

I admire the top of her blue bootsock

I dare not contemplate her bare leg skin above the sock!

Her boots and socks are my only legitimate interest!

She watches me from on high to make sure I keep my dirty gaze low

I am lower than her socks!

Again, she switches her booted feet in front of my face for a repeat performance on my humble part...

...before turning to leave me to rot

Her socks have the enviable freedom to accompany her boots wherever they are going

But I mean nothing to her...

...left behind in the dirt


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