Cleaning Cleats
Sadly, it’s not all sweet feminine feet and footwear that I must serve on a daily basis!
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| A mighty master-sir marches towards me |
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| He stops to survey me |
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| 'Clean my cleats, boy!' |
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| 'Yes, master sir. At once, master sir!' |
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| I must now taste masculine cleats... |
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| ...that are covered in mud! |
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| The customer-master's socks tower over my humble, cleats-licking head! |
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| He is the master, and I am the slave! |
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| He therefore, quite rightly, looks down on me as I perform my degrading task for him |
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| He manfully switches feet in front of my face... |
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| ...before continuing on his manly way... |
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| ...seemingly unimpressed at my abject submissiveness towards his dirty cleats! |
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| Such powerful socks! |
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| I admire the creases in the departing customer-master's socks... |
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| ...and the stitches! |
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| Truly these are the socks of greatness! |















