I must simply kneel next to my mistress’s feet and study her
socked ankles whilst she relaxes in an armchair in front of the TV. At such
times, I am NOT permitted to look anywhere other than at her socks, or, indeed,
to even think about anything other than her socks. Her socks are my
masters.
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| Dutufully studying my mistress's socks on her ankles whilst she watches TV |
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| I am forbidden, by Law, to look at my mistress above her socks - without her express permission! |
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| Not that any slave worth his salt would wish to look away from my mistress's socks |
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| Her socks are FANTASTIC! |
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| I am legally obliged to divide my slavish attention equally between both her socks |
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| Hence I position my humble head in between her socks |
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| My feckless face is so close to the socks, I can observe the individual lines of stitching |
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| In the case of the present socks, I am particularly admiring of the contrast between the blue and white stitching |
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| Needless to say, I am also legally obliged to only think about my mistress's socks |
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| All other thoughts must be banished from my menial mind |
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| The Law states my puny, footslave brain is incapable of thinking about anything other than my betters' socks |
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| I know my place - and it's at my mistress's socks! |
