Accountability

My master Simon sir requires an account from me of the number of visible STITCHES in his wife's SOCKS after I have accompanied her earlier that afternoon to the local cinema. I endeavour to explain to the master sir that whilst I had been diligently counting the number of visible stitches in his wife's WHITE SOCKS on her ankles, sir, that his wife had, unfortunately, moved her feet to different positions several times during the movie, necessitating that I recommence my SOCK-STITCH counting from scratch and that, as a result, master sir, I had ignominiously failed in my duty to properly account for his wife's SOCKS sir, begging your manly pardon and understanding, master sir?

A furious master Simon sir rebukes me for my implied criticism of his lovely wife, and he accuses me of blaming her for my abject failure to count her SOCK STITCHES. He asks me if his wife should have been expected to keep her FEET perfectly still during the movie, just to make my low-level task easier for me?

I immediately apologise to the master sir, to his wife (my mistress Mukta madam) and directly to his wife's SOCKS for my impudence and impertinence, and humbly beg the master sir that I be doubly punished - both for my failure to properly account for his wife's SOCKS, and for my rudeness in seeking to shift the blame for said abject failure onto the beautiful mistress-madam!

Master Simon sir kindly accedes to my humble request for a double punishment, and not only gives me 100 harsh lashes with his WHIP, but also places me in the wonky stocks overnight so that I might suffer suitable strain and discomfort in my otherwise nugatory slave neck. Indeed, he triply punishes me by tying the offended SOCKS over my nose whilst I am languishing in the stocks as a timely and humiliating reminder to me of the superiority of his wife's SOCKS over me!

By the morning, I feel that I have indeed learnt my lesson and, after apologising once again to the master-sir, the mistress-madam and her SOCKS, I humbly resolve to be a better and more diligent SOCKSLAVEY, and never again to seek to excuse my own inadequacies in that lowly role by implying that I am not wholly to blame for my SOCKIEBOY failures! I thank and praise the master sir for kindly reminding me via the WHIP and the STOCKS that I alone am accountable for performing my SOCKSLAVE duties properly, and that I must always be punished for any failures to do so on my humble part!

Dutifully kneeling at my mistress's feet in the darkness of the cinema and endeavouring to count her visible SOCK STITCHES

Fortunately, the footlights highlight my mistress's SOCKS in front of my face...

...meaning that I can focus on the INDIVIDUAL SOCK STITCHES...

...whilst she concentrates on watching the movie high above me

I am getting close to counting 500 visible STITCHES in her LEFT SOCK alone

Obviously, I have to angle my humble head so that I can observe BOTH sides of her SOCK...

...and I must ensure that I am not distracted by the sound of the movie high above me!

I must remain resolutely focused on SOCK, as befits a personal SOCK SLAVEY!

My mistress's SOCKS are my life, my whole life, and nothing but my life!

They own me!

And I have nothing but the utmost respect for my mistress and her SOCKS!

Frustratingly, every time I near completion of my SOCKSTITCH counting, my mistress seems to subliminally move her FEET!

She is, of course, perfectly entitled to do so, since it is not her job to make my lowly life any the easier!

And so, I must uncomplainingly begin my silent SOCKSTITCH counting all over again! For my mistress's husband, my master Simon sir, will no doubt require from me a full and accurate account of his wife's SOCKS later on today! And woe betide me if I fail to deliver!