As a sink-estate corridor footslave, my lowly lips are in
constant use – kissing the feet of my sink-estate betters. I also get to admire
a lot of SOCKS!
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Another pair of sink-estate sneakers are heading my way for respect-kissing! |
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As is often the case, the sneakers stop to survey me first |
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It is only when the right sneaker is silently and unceremoniously shoved towards my menial mouth that I catch a glimpse of SOCK |
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WHITE SOCK! |
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I can see the individual lines of stitching in the upper part of the otherwise hidden WHITE SOCK!
 And if I focus hard, I can even see the INDIVIDUAL WHITE STITCHES, and a tiny tear in the side of the SOCK
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What a lowly privilege, what a humbling honour - to be so up close and personal with a bright young woman's SOCK! |
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SOCK!... Her SOCK!... |
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And her other SOCK! |
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My lowly, humble head-on view of the customer's SOCK... |
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...just a tiny slither of the upper side of the SOCK! |
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But truly it is a sight for sore eyes! |
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I, literally, look up to the SOCK! |
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I yearn to be the SOCK! |
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Hugging the contours of my pretty mistress's ANKLE! |
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And absorbing her natural foot juices into the very fibre of my SOCK-BEING! |
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Meanwhile, the pretty wearer of the SOCKS continues to look down on me as I humble myself at her SNEAKERS and SOCKS! |
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Kissing feet, and admiring SOCKS, is all I am good for! |
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No wonder she turns and walks away from me with her chuckles echoing down the empty, sink-estate corridor |
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She has every right to feel PROUD of herself - humiliating a sink-estate footslave such as myself! |
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Society approves of her actions |
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And I am just grateful for the close-up view of her SOCKS! |
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My leager eyes remain GLUED to the back of her SOCKS as they walk away from me! |
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Her SOCKS!... Her SOCKS!... Oh her SOCKS!... |
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...Her SOCK! |