Whenever I’m in the pillory in the town square, Ms Mukta
madam likes to get right in my face as she mocks me and makes rude gestures at
me – as is her perfect right!
Today, I can smell what she had for lunch on her breath
(chicken curry). But what really torments me, is the sight of her lovely SOCKTOPS, completely out of reach to me!
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Ms Mukta torments me on a hot summer's day as I languish in the pillory |
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She is making a rude gesture at me. Very unladylike! |
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I can smell her breath and what she had for lunch |
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Needless to say, I've not had any lunch. Or breakfast. |
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But what really torments me is not my empty stomach... |
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...nor the aroma of Ms Mukta's breath... |
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...nor even her mocking laughter, right in my face... |
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...but her out-of-reach SOCKS! |
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You see, I'm a sucker for SOCKS! Literally so! |
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And the sight of Ms Mukta's unattainable WHITE SOCKS, peeking out from the tops of her BOOTS... |
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...fills me with SOCKSLAVISH yearning and frustration! |
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Oh if only I could reach those SOCKS with my menial mouth! |
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I would respectfully kiss each SOCKTOP one hundred times! |
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A thousand times, if she required it! |
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For I yearn to be the full-time and permanent SLAVE of such a FABULOUS pair of SOCKS! |
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The SOCKS! Oh the SOCKS! |
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My mocker's SOCKS! |
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Oh pray, mistress Mukta, have mercy on me, mistress Mukta madam!... Oh your SOCKS, miss! |
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Truly, I yearn to serve your SOCKS, miss! |
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Pray hold your leg up to my face, that I might kiss-respect the top of your SOCK, mistress-madam! |
She won't of course. She's here to MOCK; not to give SOCK!