Sometimes, despite being an inner-city footslave, I get to
taste the Gynarchy countryside on my customers’ boots!
 |
| An 'out-of-towner' makes her female way towards me |
 |
| She stops to ponder me - and despise me! |
 |
| She then, unspokenly, presents her filthy, rubber boot toe to my lowly lips for respect-kissing |
 |
| The boots contain warning signs, indicating how toxic they are! |
 |
| But I can only taste good, honest, Gynarchy mud... |
 |
| ...from the countryside! |
 |
| It's a privilege and an honour for an inner-city public footslave such as myself to taste such good, Gynarchy mud! |
 |
| I wonder if the customer's socks are toxic too?! |
 |
| Right now, all I care about is giving good lip to the countryside customer-mistress's boots... |
 |
| ...whilst all she cares about is enjoying her cigarette... |
 |
| ...as she looks down on me disparagingly... |
 |
| ...the filth on her boots! |