New Rule For The Sock Slavey

This evening, my mistress Mukta is in a bad mood, as is her perfect right, and she is taking out her female anger and frustrations on me, her personal sock slavey – again, as is her perfect right.

She has angrily placed me in the wonky stocks (built by her husband, my master Simon sir) at the back of her garden for the night, and as I must kiss her boots in front of her aforementioned beloved husband and her best friend, Ms Arabella madam, Ms Mukta huffily explains to me that she is ‘sick and tired’ of my ‘uppitiness’ towards her and her friends, and at my alleged ‘disrespect’ for their SOCKS, which, she rightly points out is ‘totally unbecoming’ in a wretched sock slavey like me!

I have to say, although I remain slavishly silent, Ms Mukta would be entirely correct in her criticisms of me, were they true! But the reality is I have nothing but the utmost respect for all my betters’ SOCKS – which means the SOCKS of everyone whom I encounter during the course of my lowly life! Nevertheless, if Ms Mukta and her friends perceive that I am being disrespectful towards them and their SOCKS, then the Laws of the Gynarchy state that I am being disrespectful and must therefore be punished!

However, I bite my lip and limit myself to kissing my mistress’s boots as I know I must await her permission to apologise whilst I am being reprimanded.

In front of her husband and her friend, Ms Mukta then goes on to describe her ‘new rule’ for me. She says that from now on I may only address her, her husband, and their friends and acquaintances, and indeed any strangers whom I encounter, via their socks! I am no longer permitted to address my betters directly, but only indirectly via their SOCKS. She says this will help to remind me of my lowliness and of my humble position in life as a mere sock slavey. Any failure to comply with this new stipulation will result in a severe WHIPPING.

She then gives me her female permission for my response, and I immediately seek to demonstrate my pathetic, slavish compliance with her new rule, as I very much fear the WHIP, especially when it is wielded across my back by her strong and mighty husband, my master Simon sir:

‘Oh pray, mistress Mukta’s socks, if it pleases you, mistress Mukta’s socks, this arrogant and ignorant sock slavey apologises most profusely for his disrespectfulness towards you and the socks of your husband and friends and of strangers, mistress Mukta’s socks madams. Please don’t have me whipped, mistresses the socks. This slave will be a good sock slavey to you and your companion socks from now on, mistress Mukta’s socks, may I be sorely whipped if it isn’t so, mistresses the socks. The whip will soon teach me respect and obedience towards you, oh socks! I am your slave and you own me, socks. Oh socks, you are my life, most dearest socks, and I dare not even think of your wearers, my masters and mistresses, above their socks, oh powerful and mighty socks. Have mercy upon me, I prithee, oh socks of my betters. I’m just a garbage sock slavey, oh most wonderful mistress’s socks, madams?’

Ms Mukta then has me verbally praise both her husband’s and her friend Arabella’s socks in similar slavespeak vein, before the happy trio head back into the warmth of my master and mistress’s home, leaving me to shiver alone all night in the stocks and to contemplate how I must no longer speak when spoken to directly to my masters, but only to their socks. Truly, it is a clever rule imposed by my mistress Mukta upon me, as it will reinforce to everyone whom I encounter that I am nothing but a humble sock slavey, fit only to converse with their socks.

My mistress Mukta scolds me in front of her husband and her good friend...

...whilst I humbly and penitently kiss her BOOTS in the stocks

Ms Mukta, and her SOCK, are laying down a new rule for me - the sock slavey

I am no longer to be permitted to address my betters directly

Only via their SOCKS!

It is, of course, only fitting that a sock slavey like me should be deemed unworthy to address the wearers of the SOCKS

Their SOCKS themselves are my SUPERIORS!

As anyone can see!

Ms Arabella madam certainly finds it amusing that, from now on, I may only address her SOCKS!

But my mistress Mukta is deadly serious about it, as is her husband, my master Simon sir

His socks, too, shall be my masters from now on!

The SOCKS of a REAL MAN!

Truly, my lowly life from now on shall be dominated by humble conversations with SOCKS...

...the SOCKS of my BETTERS!

Their SOCKS!... Their SOCKS!...

SOCKS!

My humbling, close-up view of my mistress Mukta's dark brown BOOTSOCK

And, in the distance, of her friend Ms Arabella madam's plain GREY SOCK!

Ms Arabella's SOCK - one of my new masters!

A sOCK that must be respected and obeyed, and addressed in the most reverential and worshipful of terms!

Truly, I am surrounded by the SOCKS of my BETTERS!

The SOCKS turn their backs on me to leave

I mourn their departure

Oh to be able to follow those three pairs of fabulous SOCKS to heel!

Meanwhile, the wearers of the SOCKS are openly laughing at me and mocking my sockieboy enslavement

All I can do is look wistfully at the backs of the departing SOCKS

I would humbly wish them goodnight, if I were permitted to initiate a conversation with superior SOCKS

But my masters have made it clear I am not to speak to their SOCKS unless and until I am spoken to

My role is primarily to listen to, and obey, my masters' and mistresses' SOCKS!

All is SOCKS and their SOCKS are my all!

I am nothing without their SOCKS...

...a mere slavey to SOCKS!
 

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