‘Kiss my feet, slave! Unless you want to feel the STING of my WHIP on your back?’
Although I might appear to be immured up to the neck
in brick wall, I am by no means immune from the WHIP! That’s because, behind
that wall, my body is fully exposed to the WHIP. So regular customer Ms Jean
madam is perfectly within her rights to give me such a humbling ultimatum!
Needless to say, I choose to kiss her feet, for it is
always, always, always better to kiss feet than feel WHIP!
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‘Kiss my feet, slave! Unless you want to feel the STING of my WHIP on your back?’ |
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It's a humbling ultimatum, but one to which the answer is clear - I must kiss Ms Jean's feet! |
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I kiss her dirty sneaker toe beneath her short, black sneaker sock |
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And the other one! |
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My humbling view of Ms Jean madam's feet |
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Truly I have been humbled by the mere threat of the WHIP! |
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Always better to kiss feet than feel WHIP, in my book! |
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Ms Jean delights in my humiliation at her middle-aged, sneakered feet! |
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She has a big grin on her face as she turns to leave - as well she might! |
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For she has been victorious over me... |
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...bringing me to the level of her abject feetkisser! |
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All POWER to her - all PRAISE to Ms Jean madam! |
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My humbling view of her departing sneakers - the sneakers I have just kissed! |
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I can only watch, helpless and powerless, as her socks turn their backs on me also! |
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All hail Ms Jean madam - conqueror of slaves! |