Her Thing

She’s a bit of a strange one. She stands for what seems like an eternity in silence in front of me, as if debating in her own mind whether to use me. I therefore, boldly, seize the initiative after several minutes, and seek to put her at her ease:

‘Good evening, mistress. How may I serve you, mistress madam? Would madam like me to lickshine her shoes, miss? Or perhaps madam would just require her shoes to be kiss-respected, madam? I’m just a slave, madam. I must do whatever you say, miss?’

It seems to work as she speaks for the first time:

‘You kiss sock, slave?’

Ah, so that’s her ‘thing’? Having her socks kissed! Fair enough! I’m a bit partial to a bit of sock in any case. So much more intimate a feeling on one’s lowly lips than cold, hard shoeleather:

‘Yes indeed, pretty mistress. Whatever the mistress wishes, pretty mistress-madam!’

Without saying another word, she presents the side of her socked ankle to me. Just a plain grey cotton sock, to match the rest of her dark attire. Nothing exotic. Nothing unusual. I dutifully pucker up my lips and press them hard onto her sock, so that she can really feel my menial mouth on her ankle through the material of her sock.

She says nothing at first, but I know this is her ‘thing’! Then, she speaks again:

‘How you feel kissing sock, slave? You not feel humble? You not feel shame – kissing girl sock?’

‘Indeed I do, pretty mistress. I feel deeply humiliated and ashamed that my lowly lips must touch your sock upon your female command, mistress, especially whilst you are still wearing your sock, miss, if you will forgive me, miss?’

I can sense her female pleasure and triumph at my sock humiliation.

Presenting the side of her sock to me for respect-kissing

This is such a humiliating honour for a mere public footslave such as myself

Normally, only personal footslaves get to kiss sock - in the privacy of their masters' homes!

I push down hard on the sock with my lowly lips...

...so that my female customer-master can really feel my humiliation through her sock!

For my humble part, I can feel the pattern of the cotton stitching on my sensitive, sock-kissing lips

I dare not look at her bare leg above the sock

The customer's sock must be my priority

Oh how humbling - to have to taste the sock of a young woman whilst she is still wearing it on her ankle!

She asks me if I don't feel shame?

Am I not humbled by her actions?

Of course, I am, and I humbly and pathetically confirm so to the pretty mistress-madam

I am less than her sock, and must demonstrate that fact by my actions...

...by worshipping her sock!


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