Patheticus Minimus 3D

She may be an archetypal girly girl in her demeanour and clothing, but this customer-mistress knows she is the one with all the power! Her pink and white outfit makes her look like an archetypal girly girl But this young woman knows she has all the power: 'You just a damned slave. You kiss my feet, slave!' She unceremoniously shoves her pink shoe towards my menial, municipal mouth Swiftly followed by her other shoe And then back again! I'm glad she settles for the time being on her right  foot, as it is the one with the dainty, decorative ankle bracelet I look up to the pink bracelet, in a respectful and worshipful manner befitting a footslave! Perhaps I should be known henceforth as a 'stockingie boy', since I admire the young woman's white stockings? She switches feet effortlessly again in front of my face Now I admire the decorative pink patterns on her shoeleather Her long, shapely leg towers over my humble, shoe-kissing head Meanwhile, the owner of the leg

Ms Mukta explains to her newly-purchased houseslave how his new, lowly life is going to be from now on: ‘Slave, you are now the full-time slave of myself and my husband Simon – ‘master Simon sir’ to you! Every time we enter or leave your presence, you will kiss our feet. Every time we speak to you, you will kiss our feet. Every time you speak to us, you will kiss our feet. The same goes for our friends and family – and even for any strangers we encounter. You will remain on your hands and knees at all times and shall never walk upright again. All the time you must be looking at, and thinking about, our feet, shoes and socks – the shoes and socks of your betters. If you do otherwise, you will be sorely whipped by your master Simon. He is an expert with the WHIP and will soon see to it that your back is striped and stinging from his mighty lash! Do you understand, slave?’ ‘Yes, mistress Mukta madam. Yes, master Simon sir. I will be a good footslave to you both, to your friends and

Regular customer Ms Mukta madam always likes to give me very specific orders: ‘Clean both my shoes, slave. Begin with the soles and make sure you lick out all the dirt I’ve been walking in from the treads. Then move on to the uppers in my shoes, including the laces, and suck off all the ingrained dirt. Begin with my left shoe before you move on to my right. I want to see my sneakers shining and to be able to see my face in them! Then examine my socktops above my shoes. If you see any creases or folds in them, smooth them out with your nose. Also, I want both my socks to be nice and even on my ankles. But don’t look at me above my socks, or even think of me above my socks. And no talking, slave. Just working!’ Because I have been forbidden to speak, I am unable to verbally acknowledge Ms Mukta’s orders. But I obediently get straight down to work on her left sneaker-sole with my tongue, and thus taste where she has been. A simultaneous, initial inspection of her plain grey left sockt