Abject Quivering
If there’s one thing that is guaranteed to reduce me to a state of abject quivering, it’s when my mistress Mukta reaches for her WHIP! Here you see me desperately kissing her SOCKS as she unhooks the WHIP from the wall of her basement. I can only hope and pray that the feel of my penitent lips on her SOCK will elicit sweet feminine mercy in her (but it never does!)
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| I am reduced to a state of abject quivering and sock-kissing as my mistress reaches for her WHIP! |
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| I can only hope and pray that my abject sock-kissing will elicit sweet mercy in her! |
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| Though it never does! |
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| I kiss the CREASES in her SOCKED ANKLE! |
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| This is my only forlorn hope of clemency! |
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| Better to KISS SOCK than FEEL WHIP, in my humble estimation! |
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| As you can see, my abject SOCK-KISSING has failed to work in the past! |
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| Once my mistress Mukta is minded to WHIP, nothing will prevent her from doing so! |
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| Her hands reach for the WHIP on the wall |
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| The WHIP, I say... |
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| ...the WHIP! |
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| 'Oh pray, mistress Mukta madam! Oh beg! Not the WHIP, I prithee!...I kiss your SOCK, mistress!' |











