‘Kiss my feet, boy!’
‘Sir yes sir, master sir! At once sir, master sir.’
I know better than to argue with my betters, be they male or
female. Every foot that is presented to my menial mouth receives the utmost
slavish respect, whether it’s hairy or smooth; clean or dirty; sweaty or pedicured.
I am a public footslave!
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A hot and sweaty master-sir demands that I kiss his feet |
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‘Kiss my feet, boy!’ |
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‘Sir yes sir, master sir! At once sir, master sir.’ |
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I know better than to baulk at such a demeaning task... |
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...even though the master-sir's toes are not only SWEATY, but HAIRY! |
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Better to kiss (hairy) feet, than to feel WHIP! |
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The customer-master deftly (for a man his proportions) switches his leathery-sandalled feet in front of my face |
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I kiss his other toes... |
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...in a manner befitting a humble, public footservant |
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'KISS MY BIG TOE, STUPID SLAVE! |
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The master-sir's angry, BOOMING voice MUST be obeyed! |
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I lower my lickspittle lips onto his HAIRY BIG TOE, wishing it was a smooth and pedicured feminine toe! But slaves can't be choosers! |