Yes Sir, Master Sir

Even at night I must kiss feet and admire SOCKS. There is no rest for the wretched!

‘Kiss my feet, boy.’

‘Yes sir, master sir. Sir, I admire your socks, master sir?’

I feel it is appropriate for me to verbally express my admiration for the stranger master-sir’s short, black socks, in the most respectful and awestruck of tones, since I want him to know that I am slavishly paying attention to his magnificent feet and footwear as I kiss them, as befits a public footslave showing respect for his mighty customer-master sir.

‘Kiss my feet, boy.’

‘Yes sir, master sir. Sir, I admire your socks, master sir?’

What's not to admire about this stranger-sir's short black SOCKS that will have been on his feet all day?

The curvature. The stitching.

The two grey lines at the top of each sock!

Besides, it would be difficult for my lowly, footslave eyes to avoid focusing on the master's SOCKS...

...whilst my menial mouth is paying homage to his manly sneaker leather!

These are the SNEAKERS and SOCKS of GREATNESS!

Of a FREE Man!

And therefore of a much BETTER MAN than me!

I'm just a slave

Fit only to kiss this man's FEET

And slavishly admire his SOCKS

The SOCKS of a REAL MAN!

What a lowly privilege! What a humbling honour!

All too soon, the manly SNEAKERS and SOCKS turn to walk away from me

I remain focused on the TOPS of the departing customer-master's SOCKS...

...as I ponder my LOWLINESS...

...in the face of such SUPERIOR MANHOOD!

God bless the master-sir!

I expect he'll be heading off to have sex with his girlfriend now...

...like any real man would be doing of an evening?

I only wish I could follow his SOCKS to heel, and then study them on the bedroom floor whilst he is making love

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