Today I am approached in the train station corridor by a succession of classy ladies:
- The first classy lady has colour-coordinated handbag and socks! (It is her socks, of course, that are of particular importance to me - along with her boots!)
- The second classy lady is much more casually dressed in hotpants, and with sneakers with patterned, brightly-coloured anklesocks (but she is none the less classy, for all that!)
- The third classy lady is wearing a red and white tracksuit with matching sneakers and socks.
Sheer class - all of them - in their own sweet-feminine ways! I show them all due footslavish respect!
Afterwards, I am approached by an equally classy master-sir, who has been watching me from the wings. He crouches down to my inferior level so that I can smell his bad breath as he mocks and rebukes me for being such a pathetic and lowly creature - kissing people's feet all day! Especially girls' feet!
I apologise profusely to the superior master-sir for my wretchedness and lowliness, and humbly solicit his own masterful feet for kissing. He too kindly obliges me!
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| The first in a succession of classy customers approaches me down the train station corridor |
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| Such a classy pair of boots and socks! |
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| The sheer class stops in front of me, adopting a superior, arrogant stance |
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| Then I am ordered (by a classy female voice) to kiss the boots! |
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| I endeavour to show the utmost slavish respect for the classy boots |
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| The classy, female wearer of the boots kindly switches feet in front of me... |
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| ...before turning her pretty, superior back on me... |
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| ...leaving me to rot in the corridor dirt behind her |
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| I keep my head humbly bowed in the presence of her classy, purple socks! |
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| Socks of greatness... |
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| ...inside boots of greatness! |
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| What an honour to have spent some brief time in their presence! |
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| As the classy blonde woman boards the train, another equally classy customer disembarks... |
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| ...a redhead, much more casually dressed, but no less classy for all that! |
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| Her green canvas sneakers and fully-pulled-up, cartoon-print anklesocks stop directly in front of my face - again adopting a superior pose! |
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| As the young-woman-wearer of the sneakers and socks mocks and berates me, a passing master-sir - a much better man than me - chuckles to himself. You wouldn't catch him grovelling in a dirty corridor at a pretty girl's feet! |
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| He continues on his smirking way as I humbly thank the kind customer-mistress for her cutting comments and beg her to do me the inestimable honour of allowing me to kiss her feet! |
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| Being a sweet-natured young woman, and full of kindness, she duly obliges me! |
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| I must now publicly kiss cheap, green sneaker... |
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| ...though it is a cheap, green sneaker made classy by its accompanying sock! |
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| Such a fun and bright pair of socks - designed to brighten up a corridor-footslave's humble day! |
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| There is no time for complacency, however, as the bright-young-woman wearer of the socks snaps angrily down at me to make sure I kiss the other side of her sneaker-toe! |
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| I instantly obey my better! |
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| Then she too turns and casually walks away from me... |
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| ...leaving me with just a humbling view of her sock... |
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| ...and a realisation of my utter insignificance and lowliness in her pretty eyes! |
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| I can sense the little smirk of female triumph on her pretty face, even though I can't see it |
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| All I can see is SOCK! |
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| But what a pair of socks! |
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| Truly, they are a pair of socks for sore footslave-eyes! |
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| I hope and pray those classy sneakers and socks will visit me again some day soon! |
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There can, of course, be no rest for a lowly corridor-footslave, and no sooner has the second classy customer-mistress of the day disappeared down the corridor, than another one approaches...
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| ...this time dressed in a fetching, red and white tracksuit. Sheer class! |
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| The tracksuit bottoms, with their accompanying white sneakers, stop directly in front of me, giving me my first glimpse of pure, white sneaker-sock! |
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| 'Kiss my foot, boy!', barks an authoritative female voice from high above me |
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| I duly obey, and kiss-respect the proffered foot - in full view of a loitering master-sir who is standing further down the corridor |
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| He watches as I humbly kiss feet... |
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| ...the feet of a classy young woman, wearing a red tracksuit |
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| She too ensures that I get a humbling taste of both her sneakers... |
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| ...before triumphantly turning her back on me |
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| As she heads off towards the platform to catch her train, I hear the master-sir chuckling to himself |
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| As well he might, for I am a pathetic figure of fun! |
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| Then, horror of horrors, his feet and footsteps approach me! |
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| He crouches down to my lowly level in order to berate me for being such a feetkissing wimp! I beg his manly forgiveness, and implore him to permit me to kiss-respect his feet, as a demonstration of my inferiority towards him |
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| The kind master-sir kindly obliges me (like the women before him!) |
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| How the man revels in my humiliation at his feet! |
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| Such a kind and generous man to humble me thus! |
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| As he smirkingly turns to leave... |
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| ...I ponder how I am lower even than his tall, manly socks... |
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| ...the tall and mighty socks of a real man! |
