When she came home late last night, somewhat the worse for wear, my pretty mistress, Ms Arabella madam, merely kicked off her shoes and slumped down onto her sofa, before brusquely ordering me to sniff her socks. She then promptly fell asleep, and so here you see me, some five hours later, continuing to obediently sniff my somnolent mistress's sweaty socks.
And I shall do so until such time as she awakes and specifically orders me to stop sniffing. For it is not my decision, as a mere slave, to determine when I may stop sniffing socks - the socks of my superior!
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| Dutifully sniffing my mistress's socked feet throughout the night |
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| Forgive the grimace on my feckless face - the sock is quite pungent and sweaty, having been on my mistress's pretty foot inside her leather shoe all day! |
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| I deliberately bury my nose in the sweatiest, reinforced toe-area of the sock... |
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| ...since I know my pretty mistress would expect me to inhale the most pungent areas of her sock |
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| She'll only kick up a stink if I don't! |
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| She is snoring |
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| I fear my poor mistress will have a terrible hangover in the morning |
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| Which doesn't bode well for me - for one of my mistress's favourite hangover cures is to WHIP me! |
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| So not only am I having to sniff her drunken socks, I am doing so in the fairly certain knowledge that I shall be sorely whipped later for my efforts! |
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| Still, what matters is not my wellbeing... |
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| ...but the wellbeing of my mistress's socks |
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| Her socks are better than me |
