My mistress Mukta never even speaks to me as she exits or enters her house. I'm just her indoor-porch footslave, a piece of human furniture required to kiss her feet as she enters or leaves her abode. I am always there. Always ready to kiss feet - be it her feet, or the feet of her guests. I'm just a part of her everyday routine!
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Kiss-respecting my mistress's muddy boots as she prepares to exit her home |
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This is just an insignificant part of her everyday routine |
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She has no need to converse with me. I'm just her porch-feetkisser slave |
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I bow my humble head in shame behind her exiting boots |
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She slams shut the front door behind her |
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Leaving me trapped behind the door, eagerly anticipating her return |
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After several hours, my mistress returns home. I can hear her familiar footsteps outside the door...
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...followed by the rustling of the key |
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The front door creaks open and my pretty steps in |
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Once again, I am required (by Law) to kiss-greet her feet |
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Her boots are crying out for a lick and a shine! |
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But that's not my role (more's the pity!). I'm just a porch feetgreeter-slave |
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I lack the skills to lickshine my betters' boots and shoes! |
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I'm garbage - just a piece of dumb, household furniture! |
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After a quick kiss to both dirty boots, Ms Mukta heads on into her living room |
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I am left staring at the muddy mat where her boots have just been
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My mistress has now, literally, turned her back on me |
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I keep my humble head bowed, for I am not even worthy to look at the backs of her boots and socks! |