Some customers are willing to have a conversation of
unequals with me about their socks. They know that, by Law, I am forbidden to
discuss anything other than their feet and footwear as I dutifully
lickshine their shoes or boots, and so they kindly and condescendingly indulge
me by allowing me to humbly ask them pertinent questions about their socks –
their innermost, most intimate items of footwear – whilst they are wearing them
on their feet and ankles!
Regular customer-mistress Ms Joanne madam is one such
indulgent customer. She never appears to be in any rush and will happily let me
discuss her socks with her, providing I do so in the most respectful and
reverential terms and do not discuss her life beyond her socks.
Today, therefore, I am self-indulgently quizzing Ms Joanne
madam about her socks, after praising and blessing them, of course:
‘Oh pray, Ms Joanne madam, begging your female pardon Ms
Joanne madam, this slave is most admiring of your thick, grey socks inside your
boots today, madam! Might this slave humbly enquire as to their providence,
madam? I’m pathetic like that, miss!’
She laughs at me and my obsession with her socks, but
nonetheless humours me:
‘Erm, I think I got them several years ago, slave? I like
wearing them inside my boots as they’re nice and thick and comfy, and that?
Plus they go with my boots, innit?’
‘Oh yes, mistress madam! Oh pray, miss, your grey socks
complement your boots perfectly, madam. Oh beg, miss, if you will forgive this
footslave’s forwardness, miss, this slave can observe several creases in your
right sock around your ankle, madam? I trust these sock creases are not
disturbing you, miss?’
Again she giggles:
‘Nah, I hadn’t even noticed them until you mentioned
them, slave. I don’t care about things like that. My socks are mostly hidden
beneath my trousers anyway, though. It’s only the likes of you that gets to see
them, and who cares about you?’
‘Indeed miss! I’m garbage, miss. Only a fool like me
would be concerned about another person’s sock creases, miss – the sock creases
of his better, miss!’
‘Haha, yes I am better than you, slave, and don’t you
forget it! Now concentrate on licking my boots. I wanna be able to see my face
in them when you’ve finished!’
That could be tricky, as Ms Joanne madam’s boots are suede
leather and not designed to ‘shine’. But I shut up and lick, as she has clearly
signalled that our conversation about her socks is over and I have lowly work
to do – that of tongue-cleaning a bright young woman’s boots beneath her thick,
grey and creased bootsocks!
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| Superb Ms Joanne madam indulges me as I respectfully quiz her about her socks |
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| Her socks, like all my customers' socks, are a source of fascination for me |
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| I'm pathetic like that! |
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| I ask her about the creases in her socks... |
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| ...but she says they don't bother her! |
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| They bother me, as I would dearly love to 'nose' her sock creases... |
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| ...i.e. trace them with the tip of my nose! |
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| I glance over to her other, matching sock |
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| It is, of course, equally beautiful, though sadly less of her left sock-top is on show! |
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| Still, just like her right sock, it is a sock to be looked up to and admired |
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| Ms Joanne madam kindly answers all my (im)pertinent sock questions... |
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| ...before curtly ordering me to concentrate on my menial task in mouth - that of lickshining her boots |
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| She watches me intently from on high as my tongue works on her boots |
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| How she must despise me - a thing that looks up to her socks! |
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| Socks are such lowly and insignificant items of clothing - as she says, for the most part tucked out of sight beneath her trousers |
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| Yet, to me, her socks are gods - gods that must be worshipped, being the socks of a young woman! |
