It can be a lonely old business, being a public footslave in
a deserted car park late on a frosty, Autumnal night. Fortunately, I can rely
on some kind-hearted individuals who are prepared to visit my face and
use me to have their shoes or boots kiss-respected – such as the sweet and kind
young woman in front of me right now!
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| I have been permanently positioned by the Gynarchy authorities in a rather lonely spot in an underused car park |
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| But, fortunately, I can still count on kind-hearted locals to use me whenever it takes their fancy |
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| Here, on a dark autumnal night, you see one of the nearby residents using my menial mouth to have her boots kissed |
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| I have massive respect for her BOOTS, and her SOCKS! |
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| These are, after all, the BOOTS and SOCKS of my BETTER - of a superb YOUNG WOMAN! |
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| She balances herself as she silently shoves each BOOTED FOOT in turn in front of my confined face |
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| I taste, and smell, the well-worn mustiness of her faux-sheepskin boots |
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| I'm just a lonely thing that kisses BOOTS! I'm no good for anything else! |
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| My humbling view of the customer-mistress's SOCK! |
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| She's stern and serious in her demeanour. Her body language makes it clear she is NOT my friend! |
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| Then, as silently and taciturnly as she had arrived, she turns her back on me and marches off |
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| I take one last lingering look at her lovely BOOTS! |
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| I'll miss them - and their wearer! |
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| Who knows how long it will be until the next pair of BOOTS or SHOES deigns to stop by me? |
