She approaches me with the confidence and freedom that only
a superb young woman of the Gynarchy can muster – a young woman who knows she
is a superior being, worthy of the public humble-head’s slavish fear and respect.
I am not her boyfriend; I am just a thing, down in the
dirt, that kisses feet.
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Approaching me with confidence and female freedom |
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The closer she gets to my confined face, the more confident she becomes |
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Her sneakers and socks ooze confidence |
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The right, sneakered foot is arrogantly shoved towards my awaiting, lowly lips... |
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...swiftly followed by the equally arrogant left foot |
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Her white sneakers are commendably clean, down amongst the dirt |
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'Kiss harder, slave! I wanna feel your lips through my shoe and sock!' |
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I obey the pretty mistress, as she starts to lose interest in me, focussing instead on her text messages high above my humble head |
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She subliminally continues to switch her confident feet in front of my menial mouth... |
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...before silently turning her back on me to confidently walk away... |
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...as she has the freedom to do so |
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She doesn't give me a second thought... |
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...as she walks proudly away |
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I bow my head behind her female greatness... |
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...and humbly admire the back of her black sock |