Footwear Imposition

On a cold and frosty night, a bright young woman of the Gynarchy imposes her dirty, musty-smelling footwear on my menial mouth. I am also obliged to look at her plain, grey socks.

I feel honoured!

A superb young woman of the Gynarchy walks confidently towards me

Her shoes click across the frosty courtyard...

...before stopping directly in front of my confined face so that I can get a good look at them!

'Kiss my foot, slave!'

My humbling view of the foot I must kiss

And the other one!

Kissing feet is virtually all I do - day in and day out; the feet of my betters!

The young woman inspects my work...

...whilst switching her loafered feet several times in front of my menial, municipal mouth

'Look at my sock, slave!...

...But DON'T touch it!'

My betters must be obeyed to the letter. I look humbly up at her superior sock!

 

Popular posts from this blog

Between The Toes

Man's Shoe Sniffer