'You are going to kiss my boots, boy!'
The customer-lady's statement is quite matter-of-fact and to the point. She certainly knows how to speak down to a lowly, public footservant such as myself!
Needless to say, I do kiss her boots - just as she had predicted!
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| On a cold and frosty evening, a young woman approaches me from across the yard |
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| Her long, winter boots click-clack across the frozen concrete |
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| The ornate boots then stop directly in front of my face, and their wearer's authoritative female voice makes a haughty, but entirely factual, pronouncement... |
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| ...'You are going to kiss my boots, boy!' |
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| 'Yes, mistress madam. At once, mistress madam. As you command, so shall it be done, madam!' |
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| As soon as my lowly, fear-stricken lips have touched her right boot-toe, she switches my menial mouth onto her left boot |
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| The ornate boot feels cold and frigid on the lips, not helped by the inclement weather! |
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| But these are the boots of a customer goddess-mistress. They MUST be shown proper slavish respect! |
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| The ornate boots tower over my humble, bootkissing head |
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| I dare not look up at them past the ankle! |
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| If I were to do so, I would see the pretty wearer of the boots glowering disparagingly down at me! |
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| 'Kiss harder, slave! I want to feel your lips on my boots!' |
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| 'Yes, madam. Please don't have me beaten, most glorious madam!' |
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| This woman frightens me - like all women do; only more so! |
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| She eventually turns to leave me in female triumph! |
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| Another public bootboy used and humiliated! |
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| Her boots have, yet again, demonstrated their feminine superiority over a lowly and impotent, male slave! |
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| I watch the boots admiringly as they leave |
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| What self-evidently superior beings they are to me - being the boots of a superb young woman! |
