Gregarious Footslave

I oftentimes wish I could converse with my customers about their shoes and socks - enquire as to the provenance of their footwear; the textures; the style etc - as I am a naturally gregarious footslave! However, I must hold my tongue (literally so since, as a station feet kisser, I am not even permitted to lick my esteemed customers' shoes) unless I am first spoken to by the superior customer master or mistress, and few do ever deign to talk to me, since I am, literally and figuratively, beneath them. In their superior eyes, I'm just a voiceless 'thing' that kisses feet!

Yet another superb customer approaches me in the train station corridor

Already I am keen and curious to know more about her shoes and socks...

...the shoes I shall soon be kissing, and the socks I am already admiring!

The right shoe is daintily extended towards my waiting lips

I kiss-respect the proffered shoe-toe in respectful, slavish silence...

...followed by the other one.

This, despite my aching to know more about the shoes I am kissing...

...and the socks I must face head-on!

This customer's socks are especially intriguing, being the socks of a superior young woman

Oh what stories those sock-stitches could tell...

...if only I were permitted to ask, and if only the pretty wearer of the socks would deign to speak to me!

But, like 99.9% of my customers, she turns her back on me and walks away without having breathed a word to me

To her, I'm just a part of the station furniture - a thing that kisses feet in the corridor

And she's right of course, for that is all I am!

I am not even worthy to quiz her about her socks!


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