Unseemly Inquisitiveness

The beautiful customer-mistress is wearing long, black leather kneeboots over her blue denim jeans, meaning I have no way of knowing the nature of her SOCKS, if any, inside her boots. No way of knowing, that is, unless I audaciously ask her!

I decide it’s worth the risk of a WHIPPING, extremely fearful though I am of the WHIP!

‘Oh pray, pretty mistress, if it pleases you pretty mistress, pray pardon this slave’s interruption, mistress madam, please don’t beat me miss, but this pathetic slave is yearning to know whether the mistress is wearing any socks inside her boots madam, on account of his being a pathetic and weak sockieboy slave, madam, and, if so, the nature of those socks – their colour, texture and style, miss, begging your female pardon and indulgence miss oh pray don’t have ne whipped for insolence miss oh pray miss oh beg?’

She doesn’t beat me, but she doesn’t answer my question either:

‘Shut the f**k up, slave! Just get on with licking the outsides of my boots. Tch!’

I immediately desist from talking. Even a humble and penitent verbal apology directed towards the mistress would be sure to earn me a WHIPPING when she has so clearly and eruditely ordered me to shut up. Instead, I express my penitence for my unseemly inquisitiveness by lickshining her boots all the more vigorously, whilst silently speculating as to the nature of the socks she may or may not be wearing inside her boots. I’m guessing thick black socks?

As I lick BOOT, a man walks by – a real man! I hear him laughing at me. You wouldn’t catch him licking some ‘stroppy bird’s’ BOOTS! Mind you, nor would he incur her wrath by enquiring about her SOCKS inside her BOOTS. He couldn’t care less what type of SOCKS she is wearing!

Dutifully lickshining a beautiful customer-mistress's black leather KNEEBOOTS...

...whilst yearning to know what type of SOCKS she may be wearing inside those boots?

I shall have to disturb her and enquire about her SOCKS!

It's my only option for humbly finding out about them

I, therefore, audaciously enquire of the pretty mistress as to the nature of her SOCKS inside her BOOTS!

She responds with an expletive and orders me to SHUT UP and concentrate on lickshining her BOOTS!

I hastily comply

Better to LICK BOOT in ignorance of SOCK than to FEEL WHIP!

A REAL man laughs at me as he passes by. What a chastened, BOOTLICKING LOSER I am!


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