It’s dinner time and once again I, Ms Mukta's sockieboy slave, have the
enormous privilege of feasting (my eyes) on my mistress’s socks – this time
beneath the restaurant table – whilst simultaneously having respectful regard
for her esteemed friend Ms Tiara’s socks.
 |
| I kneel dutifully beneath the restaurant table and, with no regard for my empty stomach, feast my eyes on my mistress's socktops |
 |
| It is my duty as a slave to care more about my mistress's socks than my own hungry stomach |
 |
| It is more important that her socks should be straight and neat inside her sneakers... |
 |
| ...for her socks are more important than me |
 |
| I therefore study, with humility and awe, the elasticated tops of my mistress Mukta's short, white sneaker socks |
 |
| I humbly compare and contrast the different patterns in the stitching of the socks... |
 |
| ...and ponder what it would be like to be a stitch in her socks! |
 |
| I'm pathetic like that! |
 |
| Of course, I remain acutely aware of her friend Ms Tiara's socked ankles on the opposite side of the table... |
 |
| ...occasionally glancing over at the, as the Law requires me to do, out of slavish respect for them |
 |
| I haven't really seen Ms Taiara's face but, based on her sneakers and socks, I would surmise that she must be a very pretty girl! |
 |
| Her sneakers and socks are awesome (like my own mistress's sneakers and socks!) |
 |
| The two young women chat to one another over their meal high above me - oblivious to my devoted sock staring |
 |
| To them, I'm just a 'thing' that serves their socks! |
 |
| My job is to study and admire their socks on their ankles |
 |
| So why would they pay any particular attention to me - the lowly sockservant at their feet? |
 |
| They have much more important things to think and talk about! |
 |
| Only I live in a world of SOCKS! |
