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