Meeting My New Master-Sir

My new master-sir is of Japanese origins. He lays down the law to me in his living room and in his broken English spoken with a masterful Japanese accent whilst I kiss his feet:

‘You now my foot slave, old man. You obey me. I your master. You not obey me, you feel whip! Very sore! Very pain! You never look at me above sock. All the time you kiss feet – your master feet, my girlfriend feet, my family feet. You a slave for everyone. You fear us. You obey us!’

‘Yes, master sir. I will fear and obey you all sir, and will be a good footslave to you, your family and your friends, master sir. Please don’t beat me, sir!’

Meanwhile, my master-sir’s aforementioned girlfriend watches me with the female contempt I so richly deserve as I grovel and fawn at her manly boyfriend’s feet – the female contempt reserved for a male slave! 

‘You now my foot slave, old man. You obey me. I your master...

...You not obey me, you feel whip! Very sore! Very pain!'

‘Yes, master sir... I will be a good footslave to you, your family and your friends, master sir. Please don’t beat me, sir!’

Demonstrating my slavish fear and respect for my new master-sir, and his WHIP, in the only way I know how... by kissing his feet!

'You never look at me above sock. All the time you kiss feet – your master feet, my girlfriend feet, my family feet.'

I am looked down upon with righteous female contempt by the master-sir's pretty, Japanese girlfriend

I look forward to slavishly kissing her sneakers...

...and studying her socks

Socks I shall no doubt become intimately acquainted with...

...including the pattern in the stitching!

But, for now, it is the master's sock creases I must focus on...

...as I kiss, and smell, his rubbery-canvas sneakers


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