The Sock Poet


Earlier in the day, regular customer-mistress Ms Mukta madam had kindly promised that she would return later in the evening and bring a chair with her so that she could sit down and relax whilst I worshipped her new socks by kissing them 5000 times each.

Being the sweet and kind young woman that she is, she is now doing just that – though she warns me, under pain of punishment, that there are some very specific rules as to how I must go about kiss-worshipping her socktops:

  1. I must not look at her, or even think of her, above the sock
  2. My upper and lower lips must touch her sock simultaneously upon each kiss
  3. My kisses to her socktops must be reverential and worshipful and full of awe for her socks
  4. My upper lip must touch the black elasticated top of the sock whilst my lower lip simultaneously touches the red body of the sock
  5. If my upper lip strays onto her skin above the sock, either deliberately or inadvertently, even if it only fleetingly brushes against her skin, she shall have me whipped!
  6. I must wait one second in between each kiss
  7. During each sock kiss, I must silently contemplate how lowly I am and how inferior I am to her sock
  8. I am solely responsible for internally counting the number of kisses to each sock
  9. When I have reached the 5000 target for her left sock, I must politely and respectfully inform her so that she might switch over her feet and I can thus begin the whole demeaning process on her right sock
  10. On completion of my task on her right sock, I must again politely and humbly inform her so that she can decide whether I have worshipped her socktops sufficiently, or whether she requires yet more worshipful kisses to her socks by my menial mouth
  11. She may film me on her phone from time to time for the amusement and entertainment of her husband Simon (master Simon sir to me), as it will be fitting proof of my lowly sockieboy status
  12. After she leaves my presence, I must remain mindful of her socks and continue to have worshipful thoughts about them – even if I am serving other customers and their shoes and socks
  13. Overnight, I must compose a poem of dedication to her red and black socks
  14. When she returns tomorrow with her husband, still wearing the same red and black socks, I must humbly inform her husband what a great honour and a privilege it was for me to kiss his wife’s socktops a total of 10,000 times, recite my sock-praising poem in front of him,  and humbly beg his male pardon for being such a pathetic sockieboy slave

I obey Ms Mukta’s instructions to the letter and endeavour to please her, her socks, and her husband - as befits a public humble-head slave who must do as he is told.

Ms Mukta supervises my sock kissing...

...making sure I obey her instructions to the letter!

My upper lip touches the black elasticated top of the cotton sock...

...whilst my lower lip simultaneously respects the main body of the sock

P.S. Here is my pathetic sock-poem which I recited to the master sir:


Oh socks of power

Oh socks of bliss

Oh red and black socks

Accept my kisses

 

For thou art strong

And I am weak

I’m just a sockieboy slave

Sock-servile and meek


Master Simon sir laughed at me, and clearly wasn't impressed by my efforts

 

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