Her Sole Business

Regular customer Ms Mukta madam is in teasing mood this afternoon:

‘Haha, don’t you wish you could see my sockies inside my dirty booties, sock slavey?’

‘Oh pray, Ms Mukta madam, if it pleases you Ms Mukta madam, this slave is indeed inquisitive as to the nature of your socks inside your boots, madam?’

‘Haha, well you’ll just have to remain inquisitive, sock slavey boy – cos I’m not telling you! Just carry on kissing my boots, slave!’

‘Yes, Ms Mukta madam. Thanking you kindly, Ms Mukta madam. Your socks are your business alone, Ms Mukta madam, begging your pretty, female pardon and forgiveness, miss?’ 

Ms Mukta keeping me guessing about what type of socks (if any) she may be wearing inside her boots

She is, of course, perfectly within her rights to do so

She is the customer-mistress...

...and I am the slave

My humiliating job is to kiss boots...

...not to idly speculate about socks!

Oh, but I am yearning to know with every elderly fibre of my sockieboy being!

You see, customer-mistress Ms Mukta's socks are my life!

I live for her daily sock visits!

And to be denied sight of, or even knowledge of, her socks inside her boots is the ultimate cruelty towards me!

Not that Ms Mukta cares one iota! She delights in leaving me sockieboy-frustrated!

I can only speculate, and hope, that she is wearing one of her favourite pairs of thick, grey socks inside her boots today!


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