Her Humble Hut Slave

My job is to kiss-greet the feet of my pretty mistress every time she enters or leaves her hut on the Mongolian plains. That’s all. She never speaks to me, nor I to her. Though, that’s hardly surprising, given that I’m just a stupid footslave and can’t speak a word of Mongolian!

My pretty, Mongolian mistress returns from her hard day's work out on the Steppes

She is now due some pampering - by me, her personal hut footslave!

She doesn't need to say anything - just place her booted foot onto the wooden footblock in front of my permanently confined floorface!

Then the other one

I can taste the dirt she's been walking in

All I can smell is rubbery boot!

But I can also see her plain black socktops!

I look up to her bootdirt, and her socks!

Indeed, her socks seem to tower over my humble, bootkissing head!

The wearer of the boots and socks clearly despises me

As well she might, for she is better than me

Even her socks are better than me!

No wonder she looks down upon me, both literally and figuratively, as she uses me

When she turns to leave me, she says nothing

And why should she? For there is nothing to say!

I'm just a footslave that kisses boots and looks up to socks...

...the boots and socks of his female better!

I can only aspire to become one of her socks, absorbing her Mongolian-girl footsweat inside her warm boot!

 

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