Commute

In the Japanese quarter of the Gynarchy, a bright and beautiful young woman uses me on her evening commute home from work. She manages to do so without saying a word to me, since it is clear that I must simply kiss-respect her superior feet.

I can hear her footsteps approaching from down the street, but the limited mobility in my neck means I can't look

However, when she stops in front of my humble head, her arrogant stance gives me a good view of her SHOES and SOCKS

The RIGHT SHOE is then silently raised up to my menial mouth for the inevitable respect-kissing

I endeavour to kiss it from every angle that my heavy, iron neck shackle will allow...

...whilst the wearer of the SHOE focuses on her text messages high above me

I'm pleased to say that I get a good view of her WHITE SOCK!

I can clearly make out the individual lines of STITCHING in the SOCK

And, indeed, the individual STITCHES within those lines!

It is always a privilege to be at such close quarters with a customer's SOCK!

This SOCK, after all, will have been on her FOOT all day, absorbing her personal FOOTSWEAT-DNA!

Such a lucky SOCK!

When she subliminally switches FEET in front of my face, I gaze upon the OTHEr SOCK with equal envy and admiration!

All the while, the beautiful WEARER of the SOCKS is ignoring me, focusing, quite rightly, on her phone

She then, still without saying a word to me, turns her pretty back on me and marches off

I can sense how she has already forgotten about me - the nonentity at her FEET!

Which is fair enough,m for she must surely have much more important things to think about other than a lowly footslave

Such as what to have for her dinner tonight?

All I can do in my lowliness and impotence is continue to stare admiringly at her SOCKS...

...wishing I could be one of them and accompany her all the way on her commute home!