Earning My Stripes

My mistress Mukta likes to show off my stripes and my submissiveness to her friends whenever they visit her home. The two things are, of course, inextricably linked, for it is the stinging and sore stripes on my back that ensure my suitably submissive, slavish behaviour in the presence of my betters.

My mistress Mukta selflessly confirms to her impressed friend that it is her husband, my master Simon sir, who usually wields the WHIP across my back in their household and that my stripy back is very much down to his skill and dexterity with the WHIP. Both ladies then praise my master Simon sir in his absence (he is out at work) whilst I continue to kiss the guest's feet, one after the other as she gleefully switches her sneakered feet several times in front of my kneeling and subjugated face.

I too, internally, praise the master-sir for helping me to earn my stripes and to be a good slave!

My mistress Mukta proudly watches on as I kiss her friend's feet

She joyfully explains that the stripes on my back are courtesy of her manly husband's WHIP...

...and are the source of my resultant submissiveness and obedience!

As I listen to Ms Mukta's words above me, I too, internally, praise and bless my master Simon sir

For without his WHIP I would not be such a good and submissive slave!

God bless master Simon sir, and praise be unto him!

It is thanks to him that I am down amongst the SNEAKERS and SOCKS of my betters...

...kissing their feet and ignominiously earning my stripes!

Better to KISS FEET than to FEEL WHIP!

And better to bow the humble head before SOCK!

For this is a slave's rightful place - down amongst the SHOES and SOCKS of his BETTERS!

The familiar SNEAKERS and SOCKS of my own mistress Mukta stand triumphantly behind me...

...as she jubiliantly witnesses my utter degradation at her friend's feet!

Both ladies look down upon me, and my STRIPES!

They find my 'stripy red shirt' amusing!

As well they might, for it is fitting back-wear for a slave like me!

All I can think about is SOCKS - the SOCKS of my betters!

Their SOCKS!

Mercy, SOCKS!... Mercy master Simon sir!... Your WHIP, sir!

Sir, it is your WHIP that has brought me so low, master sir.

God bless you, master sir...

...and praise be unto you!

These are my humble thoughts as I kiss our guest's SNEAKERS and admire her SOCKS!


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