To The Master-Sir, Her Love; To The Slave, Her Socks

I must kneel and sniff my pretty mistress's sweaty, white socks whilst her husband enjoys the sweet aroma of her perfume as the happy couple relax in each other's arms high above me on the sofa.

I must inhale the vinegary aroma of my pretty mistress's sweaty, white socks - freshly liberated from her warm sneakers - whilst her husband, my master-sir, enjoys her sweet perfume

The stinky aroma is all I am fit for!

I am privileged to even breathe in the same air as my mistress's superior socks...

...not that you could tell I feel privileged from the pained and humiliated expression on my feckless, slave face!

I must also listen as the master and mistress whisper sweet nothings to each other high above me

They are very much in love with one another

They only, briefly, interrupt their cavorting when the mistress demands that I sniff her socks 'harder and louder!

She says she wants to 'really hear my humiliation at her feet'!

She then passionately kisses her husband on the lips

How he must be enjoying her sweet perfume and tender touch...

...whilst I experience only her harsher side, and am immersed in her sweaty sock-stink!

To the master-sir, her love; to the slave, her socks. 'Twas ever thus!


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