He’s known as a public ‘kiss your feet, sir?’ slave, as he
effectively invites each and every patron of the Gents toilets to stop and have
their feet kiss-respected as they enter or leave the facility.
Needless to say, there is an equivalent ‘kiss your feet,
madam?’ slave around the corner at the entrance to the Ladies toilets.
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A mighty master-sir emerges from the public restroom facility
'So you want to kiss my feet, do you, boy?' 'Yes sir, master sir. If it pleases you, master sir?' |
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| 'Very well, then. Kiss that!' He presents his manly left foot for me to humbly kiss-respect |
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| The master sir then kindly switches to his other foot thereby giving me a taste of his matching, right shoe |
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| 'I admire your socks, sir!' |
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| 'No talking, slave. Just kissing feet!' |
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| 'Yes, master sir.' |
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| I continue to admire my customer's sock in silence. I'm pathetic like that! |
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| But these are, after all, the socks of a real man. Of a much better man than me! |
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| I pay humble homage to the man's superior shoes and socks... |
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| ...whilst he willingly lords it over me! |
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| He switches his feet several times in front of my pathetic, feetkissing face... |
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| ...before moving on with his life having emptied his bowels and having had his feet kissed |
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| I bow my head in shame behind the master sir's departing feet |
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| Oh how I wish I could be the 'kiss your feet, madam?' slave around the corner! |
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But footslaves can't be choosers!
|
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I hope and pray that the handsome customer-master feels reinforced in his masculinity and power over me!
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