A trendy couple stop by to use me. Unfortunately, it is the hairy master-sir who steps up onto the shoelick-chair of power in front of me!
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| 'Lickshine my sandal leather, boy, and DON'T touch my skin!' |
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| 'Yes, master sir. I obey you, master sir!' |
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| I taste, and smell, musty male sandal leather seasoned by manly foot sweat |
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| I MUST not touch the master-sir's toes or skin! |
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| All I can see are his foot hairs... |
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| ...both beneath his sandal straps and above them on his hairy ankles |
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| Oh how humbling! Oh how humiliating! |
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| To have to lick another man's sandals and stare at his feet hairs! |
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| My humbling view |
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| Such powerful, masculine ankles! |
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| I tell myself these are the feet of a real man and that it is an honour for me to lickshine his sandals! |
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| But, of course, I would much rather be lickshining the footwear of his smooth wife... |
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| ...especially since her sneakers could do with a lick and a shine! |
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| But, for now at least, my focus must be on the man feet and sandals in front of me |
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| I'm just a slave and have no say over who climbs up onto the shoelick chair in order to use me! |
