My heart skips a beat when, on a dreary afternoon, I espy the familiar figure of regular customer Ms Mukta madam heading towards me from across the industrial yard. I always appreciate the company of her socks!
And she knows it!
She ambles up to my face and deliberately hitches up her jean leg and then twists her shapely-socked ankle around in order to display one of her socks to me:
'Haha, how's it hangin', sockieboy? Have you been missin' my sockies, and that?'
'Oh pray, Ms Mukta madam! Oh joy! Oh bliss! Oh your socks, madam!...Your socks!...'
I should explain, of course, that although Ms Mukta madam is perfectly entitled to refer to her socks informally as her 'sockies', I, being a public footservant, must always refer to them by their formal title of 'socks', as it is not my place to use overly familiar language when it comes to my customers' socks. I must never forget that I'm just a slave, and therefore worth less than their socks!
Seemingly pleased at my gushing adoration for her socks, Ms Mukta proceeds to give me my afternoon orders:
'Kiss my feet, sockieboy-slave, while I enjoy my cigarette. You can look at my sockies while you're kissing my sneakers, but don't touch the socks!'
'Yes, mistress. I mean, no mistress Mukta madam. God bless you mistress, thanking you kindly miss!... Oh your socks, miss!'
And so I get to enjoy the cherished company of Ms Mukta's female socks, if only for a few minutes whilst she smokes her cigarette high above me. They appear to be some sort of animal-themed cartoon socks - a fox, or a cat, or a dog or some such? But I daren't ask her to clarify. My role is not to question her socks, but to admire them!
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| Female sock-company is approaching! |
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| I'm about to spend some glorious time in the company of female socks... |
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| ...the socks of Ms Mukta! |
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| She mockingly holds her socked ankle up to my confined face |
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| 'Haha, how's it hangin', sockieboy? Have you been missin' my sockies, and that?' |
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| 'Oh pray, Ms Mukta madam! Oh joy! Oh bliss!... |
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| ...Oh your socks, madam!...Your socks!' |
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| 'Kiss my feet, sockieboy-slave, while I enjoy my cigarette...' |
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| I dutifully kiss each of Ms Mukta's presented feet in turn, whilst continuing to enjoy the company of her brown and yellow socks! |
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| It is such an honour for the likes of lowly me to enjoy the company of a beautiful young woman's socks... |
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| ...whilst she enjoys her cigarette... |
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| ...high above me! |
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| Not that I have any business thinking about what Ms Mukta is doing above me... |
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| ...My only business is with her SOCKS! |
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| And her SHOES, of course! |
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| But it is the SOCKS whose sweet feminine company I enjoy the most... |
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| ...much to their wearer's evident amusement! |
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| What must it be like for a girl to have so much POWER over a slave - just by virtue of her SOCKS? |
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| Even before Ms Mukta has finished with her cigarette, she has finished with me |
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| She turns and gloatingly heads off back towards her nearby office |
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| She'd rather get back to work than waste any more of her, or her socks', precious time with me! |
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| She knows I am not worthy to spend any more time in the company of her socks! |
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| I diligently observe each and every crease in her socks as they turn their backs on me and walk away |
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| Oh to be able to follow those socks to heel, and to study them on Ms Mukta's ankles beneath her office desk whilst she is busy working on her office computer! Her socks are my life! |
