It's an anxious wait, as always, for the permanent shoelick slave as he waits for his next customer to take up her seat of power in front of and above him. What specifically will she order him to do? What will her shoes taste like? Will he be permitted to study her socks? Will he be pleasing to her?
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| The slave waits anxiously for his new customer to settle down into the shoelick chair of power! |
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| 'Tongue-shine my shoes, boy! And make sure you get out all the grime! You can look at my socks, but don't touch them!' |
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| 'Yes, mistress madam. I obey you, mistress madam.' |
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| My tongue gets stuck in to her black shoeleather... |
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| ...beneath her matching black sock |
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| The turn-ups on her trousers afford me an excellent view of her finely-stitched socks... |
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| ...socks which preserve her bare-ankle modesty! |
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| What a privilege! What an honour - to have my humble head down amongst the shoes and socks of such a haughty and superior young woman! |
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| As I lick the upper of her loafer-shoe, I gain more of an opportunity to really study her sock |
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| It is almost stocking-like in its ultra-fine stitching. |
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| But she called them 'socks', so socks they must be! |
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| 'Stare at my socked ankle while you are licking my shoe, slave!' |
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| This woman clearly likes to heap humiliation after humiliation upon a public shoelick! |
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| As is her perfect female right! |
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| And, to be fair, her shapely-socked ankle is a joy to behold! |
