First Question Of The Day

‘Am I to be whipped today, mistress?’

It’s the first question I fearfully ask as I kiss-greet my mistress’s slippered and socked feet by the side of her bed as soon as she rises from her slumbers each morning. The answer is always dependent on her mood.

‘Erm… I’ll think about it, slave. Kiss my feet!’

That doesn’t bode well for me! But the point is, of course, that the WHIP is never far from my back!

I continue to grovel at her still-sleepy feet and kiss them, as it is my only hope of eliciting sweet feminine clemency in my otherwise WHIP-fond mistress! It also helps to remind her of my utter powerlessness and submission to her will.

‘The WHIP, mistress! Not the WHIP, I beg you!’

‘Am I to be whipped today, mistress?’

‘Erm… I’ll think about it, slave. Kiss my feet!’

'Yes, mistress...

...The WHIP, mistress! Not the WHIP, I beg you!’

'Oh the WHIP! Oh how I fear the WHIP, mistress!'

I look cravenly at her SOCKS as I kiss her SLIPPERS

I only hope my mistress can feel my trembling, fearful lips through the thick material of her SOCKS?

For that is probably my only hope of avoiding the mighty STING of the WHIP!

The WHIP, I say!... The WHIP!

Who knows what my pretty mistress will decide?

But from my lowly perspective, if it's a choice between the SOCK and the WHIP, I will always choose SOCK!

Better to KISS FEET than FEEL WHIP!


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