As a mere, common-or-garden, station corridor footslave, I fully appreciate how lucky I am to spend even a fleeting amount of time in the presence of such a superb and erudite young woman as the customer-mistress who is currently approaching me. Even to breathe in the same air as her boots and socks is an inestimable honour for the likes of lowly me - let alone to be angrily shouted at by her!
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| Haughty and aloof, a superb customer-mistress walks confidently down the train station corridor towards me |
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| Her boots and socks, like their wearer, are magnificent! |
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| And they know it! |
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| 'Kiss my boots, boy!', snaps a female voice down at me |
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| I instantly obey, especially as the young-woman wearer of the boots has been kind enough to hold her booted foot up to my menial mouth! |
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| she, naturally, looks down on me with contempt as I kiss-respect her proffered boot-toe |
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| She then, equally arrogantly, switches her feet in front of my face |
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| 'KISS THE LITTLE-TOE AREA, STUPID SLAVE!,' she barks angrily down at me |
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| I instantly pucker up my lowly, unworthy lips over said little-toe area |
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| As soon as she is satisfied with my humility and compliance at her feet, she turns and moves away |
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| Sulking; surly; sexy! |
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| Not that I shall ever have sex with this superior young woman |
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| I'm just a slave - fit only to look her in the boots... |
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| ...and socks! |
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| She is my master - albeit my all too temporary master! |
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| Oh how I would love to be her permanent, full-time boot kisser and sock admirer! |
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| But I'm just a lowly. station-corridor feetkisser, honoured by her fleeting presence! |
