Busy Man
A busy customer master-sir briefly interrupts his telephone conversation to bark his orders down at me
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| A busy master-sir walks in my direction |
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| He stops in front of me, but continues with his phone conversation high above me |
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| He then briefly interrupts his phone conversation: 'Kiss my feet, slave!' |
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| He presents his right foot to my menial mouth and I immediately obey him |
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| I kiss his foot |
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| Including his leathery sandal strap |
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| Better to ingratiate oneself to a busy master-sir's whole foot, including his footwear! |
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| The leather of his sandal smells musty |
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| I surmise that it is an oft-worn sandal! |
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| Still the busy master-sir's conversation on the phone continues unabated above me |
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| He doesn't pause even when he subliminally switches his sandalled feet in front of my face... |
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| ...before he turns to WALK OFF... |
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| ...still engrossed in his telephone conversation |
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| His leather sandals slap against the concrete pavement... |
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| ...as I keep my head humbly bowed... |
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| ...and my eyes dutifully focused on the backs of the master-sir's heels, as befits a public footservant |
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| It was nice of him to briefly acknowledge me, even if it was only to brusquely order me to kiss his feet! |

















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