Starting The Day As I Mean To Go On

My first customer of the day (if we don't count my regular wake-up call from jogger Ms Mukta madam) is a beautiful, but haughty, young woman with very fixed ideas as to how I should behave at her feet.

She stops in front of me:

'You're gonna kiss my feet, boy!'

The term 'boy' might seem somewhat incongruous, given that I am in my mid sixties and she looks to be in her early twenties. But, of course, she is referencing my slavish impotence and the fact that I am not a proper man, but a mere kisser of feet!

I seek to assure her that that is indeed precisely what I'm her for - to kiss her feet and worship her:

'Oh pray, mistress madam, if it pleases you mistress madam, this slave would indeed be honoured to kiss your feet, miss, on account of you're being better than him and a beautiful goddess, madam, please don't have me beaten miss?'

She sullenly shoves her right, sneakered foot out towards my face:

'Make sure you look at my SOCK while you're kissing my shoe, slavey. And DON'T look above the SOCK!'

'Yes, mistress madam. I hear and obey you, mistress madam miss.'

I would pretty much do that anyway - stare at my customer's SOCK, since it's important for a public footslave like me to know what type of SOCKS his customer-master or mistress is wearing inside their shoes. It all adds to his sense of public-slavish humiliation!

My first 'proper' customer of the day approaches me

'You're gonna kiss my feet, boy!'

'Make sure you look at my SOCK while you're kissing my shoe, slavey. And DON'T look above the SOCK!'

Satisfied with my slavish compliance, she relaxes and catches up with her text messages

I am now far from her pretty mind

But her words of commandment still echo in my menial mind

MUST look at the SOCK!

And NOT above the SOCK!

Although, from my current angle, I can only see the elasticated BLUE top of the SOCK...

...I know from previous furtive glimpses at the pretty customer's SOCKS that the main body of the SOCKS is WHITE!

It's only when I move my humble head round to the other side of her sneaker that I see the WHITE of the SOCK again!

Needless to say, BOTH parts of her SOCK must be admired and respected!

I must study the interaction of the BLUE and WHITE weaves in the SOCK!

SOCK, SOCK and only SOCK! Nothing above the SOCK must concern me!

I move my humble head repeatedly around the young woman's SHOE as I taste where she has been

'I SAID, LOOK AT MY SOCK, SLAVEY!' she suddenly barks from on high by way of a reminder!

She then watches intently as I refocus my eyes on her SOCK!

She then relaxes again, confident that I won't dare to disobey her!

She's right about that! I am frightened of her...

...and her SOCKS!

For I am in their POWER and at their MERCY!

These SOCKS effectively own me...

...at least whilst I am kiss-respecting their accompanying shoes!

Meanwhile, the pretty wearer of the SOCKS continues to fixate on her phone...

...leaving me free to start the day as I mean to go on - kissing feet and studying SOCKS!


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