My mistress Mukta has me kiss-respect her guest, Ms Karen’s,
feet - under threat of the WHIP!
In my mistress’s household, my face is never far from
the SOCKS of my BETTERS. Likewise, the WHIP is never far from my back.
And rightly so, for I am a slave and must be constantly both humbled and
disciplined by my superiors!
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| 'Kiss Ms Karen's feet, slave! Get your forehead close to her SOCKS!' |
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| 'Yes, Ms Mukta madam. Yes, Ms Karen madam. God bless your socks, mistress Karen madam.' |
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| My feckless slave-forehead respectfully brushes against the soft cotton creases of Ms Karen madam's white BOOTSOCK |
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| Truly, it is an honour for my humble head to be so close to the SOCK of a superior... |
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| ...whilst I taste and smell the musty aroma of her well-worn BOOTLEATHER |
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| But it is the SOCK that looms large in my consciousness |
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| As does the WHIP behind me! |
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| 'Keep your eyes lower than Ms Karen's SOCK, slave!' |
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| 'Otherwise it will be the STING of the WHIP for you!' |
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| My own mistress's SOCKS hover behind me... |
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| ...SOCKS which my lowly lips, face and mind are all too familiar with! |
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| I live close to my BETTERS' SOCKS! |
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| Their SOCKS are never far from my face! |
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| Or from my menial mind! |
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| I'm just a SOCK SLAVEY... |
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| ...for my MISTRESS, my MASTER, and their GUESTS! |
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| And the WHIP helps to keep me in line... |
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| ...in their SOCKLINE! |