Late of an evening, regular customer Ms Mukta madam is explaining to her friend
(a stranger whom I have never had the honour of serving before) how I work:
‘This is our local public humble-head slave. Simon and I
nickname him ‘sockieboy’ as he likes looking at people’s socks! Haha. He’s
queer like that! His main role is to kiss your feet, an’ that, but you can also
use him to have your shoes or boots lickshined if you wish to. Needless to say,
his services are provided for free, as he’s just a slave!’
Her friend is curious and has a number of questions for her
hostess:
‘How is he punished if he’s permanently confined in this
wall, and that?’
‘Oh, he can still be whipped like any other slave. His
back is naked behind the wall, an’ that, so he can either be whipped by the authorities
in situ, or, if they want to make an example of him, he can be temporarily taken
out of his wall and, like, whipped at the whipping post in the town square, an’
that. I can show you the whipping post next, if you’d like?’
‘Oh yes please, Mukta!’
‘In the meantime, why don’t you use sockieboy? Have him
kiss your feet, an’ that? Here, I’ll show you how!’
Ms Mukta then steps up to my confined face and addresses me
directly:
‘Yo sockieboy, how’s it hangin? Show my friend Sadie how
you kiss feet and admire socks. Kiss my sneakers!’
‘Yes, mistress Mukta madam. At once, mistress Mukta
madam. It will be my honour for me to kiss both your and Ms Sadie’s feet,
madams.’
Ms Sadie giggles:
‘So it talks, then?’
‘Haha. Yeah, he’s allowed to speak – but only to
acknowledge our orders or to praise our shoes and socks, an’ that. Isn’t that
right, sockieboy?’
‘Yes, Ms Mukta madam. God bless your socks and Ms Sadie
madam’s socks, mistresses. Your socks are fabulous, misses.’
Both girls then laugh out loud at me as first Ms Mukta, and
then Ms Sadie, take it in turn to have me kiss-respect their outer footwear.
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| Ms Mukta madam explaining to her friend, Ms Sadie madam, exactly how I work and my lowly purpose in life... |
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| ...before expertly demonstrating my lowliness |
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| I kiss Ms Mukta's familiar sneaker-toe and admire her equally familiar plain grey SOCK |
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| In the distance I can just make out the white SOCKS of Ms Sadie madam |
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| It is always exciting to study the SOCKS of a brand new customer - of a stranger... |
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| ...however prosaic those SOCKS may seemingly be! |
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| ALL my customers' SOCKS are my masters, and must be admired, respected and obeyed! |
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| Speaking of which, right now my slavish focus is on the grey SOCKS of Ms Mukta madam! |
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| I examine the STITCHING and the CURVATURE in the SOCKS! |
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| I can sense Ms Mukta's friend, Ms Sadie madam, looking down disparagingly at me - as well she might! |
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| Then it is her turn to step up to my face! |
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| Plain grey SOCK is now replaced by plain white SOCK |
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| Again, I humbly study and admire the STITCHING and the CURVATURE in the SOCKS in front of me... |
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| ...with a sense of sockieboy AWE! |
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| SOCKS! SOCKS! I am surrounded by fabulous female SOCKS! |
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| The SOCKS of my BETTERS! |
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| The two young women gigglingly turn their backs on me and head off to see the nearby whipping post in the town square |
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| They discuss my lowliness, my patheticness and how I can be whipped at their behest |
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| All I can do (for, sadly, I cannot follow them to socked heel) is admire the backs of their departing SOCKS |
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| Their SOCKS! |
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| Ms Sadie's SOCKS... |
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| ...and Ms Mukta's SOCKS |
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| SOCKS! |
