Godlike Master-Sir

 A godlike master-sir approaches me with white socks:

‘Shine my shoes, boy – and DON’T touch my socks!’

‘Yes, master sir. At once, master sir. Sir, this slave is not worthy to touch your socks, sir, if it pleases you, sir. I’m just the trash at your feet, godlike master-sir.’

As I obediently lickshine his shoes, I politely enquire of the master sir whether he will be whipping any slaves today, since to be whipped by a man like him would be a painful privilege and an honour for any slave like me, begging his male pardon and understanding sir? He laughs derisively down at me and orders me to concentrate on my task in menial mouth, that of lickshining his shoes and tasting where he has been. He says that should be honour enough for me since, compared to me, he is a god.

I humbly agree with the white-socked master sir.

Approached by a god

The god surveys me from on high

‘Shine my shoes, boy – and DON’T touch my socks!’

‘Yes, master sir. At once, master sir. Sir, this slave is not worthy to touch your socks, sir, if it pleases you, sir... 


...I’m just the trash at your feet, godlike master-sir.’

I humbly start licking the godlike master-sir's shoes...

...in the face of his untouchable socks...

...the white socks of a god master-sir

What a privilege! What an honour for the likes of lowly me...

...to lick the shoes of a god!

Socks...shoes...god!

'Lick the side, slave!

'Yes, master sir. I obey you, god master-sir!'

The god turns and walks away from me

I bow my humble head in shame behind the departing god's shoes and socks

I allow myself the inestimable honour of studying the master-sir's departing socks

Other people's socks and shoes - these are my lowly life!

I'm trash!


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