Your master and mistress are waiting patiently at the bus stop for their late-night bus home. Kneel down on the wet concrete next to their feet, slave!
The matron of the house is next to use the lowly porch footslave before she heads off on her shopping trip. Her garb may be traditional, but her sneakers are very modern! It is such an honour for the lowly, pathetic porch footslave to kiss madam's feet on her egress from her house He respects and admires her very much, even though she is often first in the household to reach for the WHIP! Better to kiss madam's sneakers than feel the wrath of her WHIP! He slavishly admires her white SOCKS Such modern foot-attire, which beautifully complements her otherwise more traditional dress When she switches her feet in front of the slave's mouth, he angles his humble head to get a better view of her SOCK! Then, all too soon, for she has shopping to do, she leaves him to rot amongst the dirty shoes and boots in the hallway He keeps his humble head bowed, out of slavish respect for the feet he has just kissed! Indeed, this slave has never seen his madam above the ANKLES... ...and they...
Taskmistress Ms Priscilla madam is no respecter of age. She certainly allows no leeway to the more elderly galley slaves in her charge! She expects all her slaves to pull their weight, however weak and feeble they may appear to be. And her WHIP very much ensures that they do! ‘Put your bony old back into it, slave, or your ribcage will once again feel the warm embrace of my WHIP!’ ‘Yes, taskmistress Ms Priscilla madam. Oh pray, taskmistress Ms Priscilla madam, please don’t WHIP me, taskmistress Ms Priscilla madam. I will work harder, mistress! Oh truly I fear the WHIP, mistress madam! Madam I will kiss your BOOTS, madam?'’ ‘Put your bony old back into it, slave... ...or your ribcage will once again feel the warm embrace of my WHIP!’ ‘Yes, taskmistress Ms Priscilla madam. Oh pray, taskmistress Ms Priscilla madam... ...please don’t WHIP me, taskmistress Ms Priscilla madam. I will work harder, mistress! I look over towards her BOOTS... ...as she towers ominously next to me with ...
Part 1 – Illegal Alien He was absolutely determined to emigrate to the Gynarchy. Richard – or rather, would-be slave Richard – was fed up with having to pretend. He was fed up with having to hide his natural submissiveness vis-Ã -vis women. He was fed up with having to enjoy his fetishes in private – a surreptitious glance at a shapely, feminine ankle here; a discreet observation of a female sock there. All he wanted was to be a slave – specifically a woman’s footslave, but the society he lived in could not cater for him. He felt very much like an outsider. The only place he felt drawn towards was the mysterious land of the Gynarchy. The Gynarchy was a closed society – a Female Police State which successfully kept the world’s media at a distance. The Gynarchy’s infamous ‘feminine firewall’ even kept the Internet at bay with a fair degree of success. But everyone knew that it was a State run by women – a Slave State, in which men, or at least some of the men, were treated as slaves. The...
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