A stranger in a bright red tracksuit and white sneakers approaches my street-facing, foothold cell.
'Before I let you kiss my feet, tell me what you admire most about my socks, slave!'
'Oh pray, pretty mistress, if it pleases you pretty mistress madam, this slave admires the rows of stitching in your white socks, madam, and the way your socks follow the curvature of your pretty ankles, madam, begging your pardon madam, please don't have me beaten, miss? But most of all, miss, this slave admires your socks because they are your socks, on your feet, madam, if you would be so kind and understanding to an helpless and contrite prisoner-slave at your mercy, pretty mistress-madam?'
'Very well, slave, you may kiss my feet. But make sure you only look at my socks!'
'Yes, miss. Thanking you kindly, miss. God bless you, miss!'
I duly kiss sneaker and stare at sock.
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| A bright young woman of the Gynarchy approaches my lowly, street-facing cell window late at night |
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| 'Before I let you kiss my feet, tell me what you admire most about my socks, slave!' |
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| 'Oh pray, pretty mistress, if it pleases you pretty mistress madam, this slave admires the rows of stitching in your white socks, madam, and the way your socks follow the curvature of your pretty ankles, madam... |
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| ...But most of all, miss, this slave admires your socks because they are your socks, on your feet, madam, if you would be so kind and understanding to an helpless and contrite prisoner-slave at your mercy, pretty mistress-madam?' |
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| The object of my pathetic, slavish admiration - a stranger's sock! |
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| I eulogise both the sock, and its wearer! |
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| My humbling view of the sock... |
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| ...through the bars of my public foothole cell! |
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| Satisfied with my obsequious praise for her socks, the young-woman-wearer of the socks kindly consents to my kissing of her feet... |
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| ...providing I keep my lowly eyes fixed at all times on her socks! |
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| It's not difficult to do, when the sock is so fabulous... |
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| ...being the sock of a bright and beautiful young woman of the gynarchy, on her foot and ankle! |
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| What a privilege! What an honour for the likes of lowly me! |
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| She deftly switches her sneakered feet in front of my footkissing face, even hitching up her tracksuit bottom to afford me a better view of her sock! |
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| Then she turns to leave me in triumph, no doubt with a cheeky grin lighting up her pretty face? |
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| I, meanwhile, remain focussed on her socks... |
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| ...as befits a pathetic prisoner-slave in a public-facing foothole cell! |
