In The Sticks

As a weedy footslave, I am positioned out in the sticks, along a country towpath. I am often threatened with sticks by those who use me, as is their perfect right, for under the Laws of the Gynarchy they are, of course, fully entitled to beat me with impunity!

A young woman approaches me along the towpasth, holding a threatening-looking STICK!

She stops directly in front of my confined face and points her BOOTED-TOE towards me, as an indication of what is to come next!

'Kiss my foot, slave!'... 'Yes, mistress madam. At once, mistress madam...

...please don't beat me with your stick, madam?'

I look upwards in fear at her SOCKTOP

Her SOCKS loom large over my humble, weedy head!

I'm frightened of them...

...and their wearer!

I fear all my customers' SOCKS!

But, in this instance, it's the customer's knarly old STICK I should perhaps be more fearful of?

The STICK of POWER...

...in the hands of a jubilant and mocking young woman!

I have not encountered her before...

...but I make sure to show her the utmost slavish respect...

...as befits a weedy, frightened old slave at the feet of his infinite BETTER...

...a YOUNG WOMAN!

A YOUNG WOMAN of POWER...

...whose BOOTS must be respected...

...and whose SOCKS must be admired...

...If I am to avoid the STING of her STICK on my face!

The STICK, I say!... The STICK!

'M...mercy, m...mistress... N...not the STICK, I prithee?... Oh fear, mistress!... Oh beg!'


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