Honour Of Sorts

All my life, I have been my mistress Mukta’s slave. I was born her slave and shall die her slave. More specifically, her ‘sockieboy slave’ – the slave of her SOCKS!

Even in the afterlife, I shall continue to be her sockieboy slave, for all eternity. There is no end to my enslavement and my devotion to my mistress’s SOCKS. I wear the mark of her WHIP with foolish pride - not because I am proud of having displeased my mistress and thereby earned her WHIP WRATH, but because it is the mark of her WHIP, on my BACK; and it therefore marks me as her SLAVE.

And being the WHIP-MARKED sock slavey of such a fabulous young woman is truly an honour, of sorts!

As my mistress Mukta's eternal sock slavey, I must accompany her SOCKS wherever she goes

It is an honour of sorts, albeit a lowly and humiliating one!

To be forever enslaved to her SOCKS...

...serving them, admiring them - and all whilst wearing the mark of her WHIP!

I study assiduously the lines of STITCHING in her SOCK whilst she watches the movie

I am not permitted to look at my mistress above her SOCK...

...or to even think of her above the SOCKS!

Her SOCKS are my life, and shall be my afterlife!

For her part, she despises me. And rightly so!

She knows I dare not even look at her bare leg immediately above the SOCK!

I'm just a perpetual, lowly thing in the background of her life...

...a thing that is enslaved to her SOCKS!

Comments

Likes

Popular posts from this blog

Walked Over And Ignored

Public Service Broadcast

Utilising A Public Foot Slavey