Sink-Estate Siren

A sink-estate siren stops by me for a routine kiss-respecting of her superior, filthy sneakers 

The filthy-sneakered siren approaches

She stops in front of me, relishing her sink-estate power and authority over me

Then she shoves her street-soiled, right sneaker underneath my nose for respect-kissing

Swiftly followed by her equally filthy left sneaker!

All I can taste and smell right now is rubbery, white sneaker!

Though I am equally conscious, of course, of the customer-mistress's creased SOCKS!

Her siren-sneakered feet are calling to me...

...having me do their bidding!

Meanwhile, the pretty wearer of the sneakers is quite nonchalant about the whole experience

She's used to being treated with respect by the sink-estate footslave!

'Haha, you're my feet slavey!'

Oh would that I were!

It's as if this sneakered siren is urging me to follow her to sneakered heel!

But she must know I can't move!

Not even to crawl to heel behind her SOCKS!

I look longingly at the siren SNEAKERS and SOCKS!

But I realise I am not worthy to follow them on my hands and knees and to serve them all my days!

I'm just a public footslave, here on the sink-estate. I must patiently wait for the sultry siren-mistress to stop by me again!


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