Many customers, especially those with a penchant for
visiting me late at night, enjoy threatening me with violence if I don’t please
and satisfy them with my humility at their feet. They will often come armed
with a stick or some other weapon, to intimidate me – though, mercifully, they
rarely seem to use such weapons. They have no need to, since the threat of pain
is enough to ensure my best efforts to respect and please them with my menial
mouth on their superior feet, and it’s the sense of dominance and power over me
that they most crave!
Here we see one such tormentor master-sir, threatening me
with a rusty lead pipe, but whom I serve with the utmost slavish humility and respect, thereby
avoiding his manly wrath!
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| A late-night master sir is swinging a lead pipe as he approaches me in a threatening manner |
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| He begins by mocking me and threatening me if I don't kiss-respect his feet to his satisfaction |
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| I seek to please the threatening master-sir by kissing his feet with the utmost slavish respect |
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| This is, after all, the foot of a man with ultimate power over me |
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| There is nothing in Law to protect a public humble-head slave from the wrath of a customer master or mistress! |
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| I admire the master-sir's socks... |
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| ...all creased and folded around his ankles |
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| His leg is marked above the sock |
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| They look like scratches. Perhaps the master-sir suffers from itchy, varicose veins? |
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| But his leg blemishes are really none of my damn business! |
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| My only legitimate business is to kiss the master-sir's shoes |
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| BOTH of them, as she repeatedly switches his manly feet in front of my confined face! |
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| 'DON'T LOOK AT ME ABOVE THE SOCK, BOY!' |
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| The angry master-sir has clearly spotted my unseemly interest in his bare leg above the sock! |
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| This is where I must be mindful of the pipe hovering threateningly above my humble head... |
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| ...and ensure my compliance with the master's will by looking only at his sock! |
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| Having said that, why would any slave want to NOT look at such a fabulous sock? |
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| The creased sock of a real man... |
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| ...a lived-in sock?! |
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| I could study such a sock for hours! |
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| And, at this rate, I probably will... |
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| ...as the master-sir seems in no hurry to leave! |
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| He is clearly enjoying my humiliation at his sneakered and socked feet, even if he has a face like thunder! |
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| Eventually, the magnificent master-sir - until tonight a complete stranger to me - crouches down to mock me to my face. He asks me how I liked having to kiss his feet? |
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| I humbly, and most obsequiously reply, that I liked it, but not that much sir, begging his manly pardon sir? |
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| All the while I keep my eyes glued on the master-sir's socks, in an effort to be pleasing to him |
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| How he laughs at me - the frightened slave at his feet! |
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| I'm just a weed to be trampled on, along with all the other weeds! |
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| I kiss the master-sir's foot again. MUST be pleasing to him! |
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| He bores with me, and saunters off... |
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| ...in triumph! |
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| No doubt, he will now be heading off to find another public humble-head to intimidate and humiliate... |
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| ...as is his perfect right as a free man! |
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| I am actually sorry to see him go, as I realise I have been in the presence of greatness! |
