African Gynarchy
On the dusty streets of the African Gynarchy a public footslave humbly and reverentially kisses feet
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The Indentured Footservant
Part 1 – A new life Roger sat nervously in the back of the limousine observing the sights of Jakarta as the car sped through the streets of the Indonesian capital. The uniformed chauffeur was a heavily-built black man in his early 30s. The car had been sent to meet him at the airport. The chauffeur wasn't saying much, and so Roger decided he would break the ice with, what he thought, was a fairly innocuous question: 'Have we far to go?’ The smartly dressed chauffeur paused for a moment before replying in a thick West African accent: 'I suggest you keep quiet, slave, and learn to speak only when you are spoken to by your betters.' Roger's heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Slave! It was the first time ever in his life he had been called a ‘slave’, and it was a somewhat ominous development. He was, after all, as he understood it, going to be a household servant – not a ‘slave’. But how had he come to this humble position at the age of 45? He thought back through t...
What about a drain slave in an African gynarchy world? You never did something similar. I'd say that an African empress walk over him and he sees the sole of the sandals, and some dirt falls over his face, than another goddess barefeet and, in the end, even the sole af a female slave!
ReplyDeleteSee this old post which includes some of the themes you mention https://patheticusminimus3d.blogspot.com/2022/06/princess-nefertiti-punishment-procession.html
DeleteI recall asking it. Can I ask you another one? XD
Delete