Patheticus Minimus 3D

I am an ornamental footkisser in the lobby entrance of a large theatre-hall in the centre of town. My job is to quickly kiss the feet of the female theatre-goers as they enter the building, by way of welcoming them to their evening’s entertainment and wishing them a pleasant time. There are actually two of us positioned side by side on our hands and knees – a few feet apart, appropriately enough – at the main entrance to the theatre, since it is important that the ladies don’t have to stand in line for too long as they enter the theatre building. After all, it might be raining outside and we will both, quite rightly, be punished if any lady-guest has to queue outside the building in the rain thereby getting soaked. Speed is, therefore, of the essence – and my ornamental footslave-colleague and I are consequently only permitted one, crisp kiss to each of the lady’s feet before she moves on into the theatre. There is, sadly, no lingering of the lips on feminine shoe-leather; no small-...

The second city of the Gynarchy – Femina – is predominantly a young dominants’ town, full of bright, young things. That’s largely because it is a female university town, but also because of the large numbers of young, overseas, female tourists it attracts. They come here to see the famous shrine to the legendary foundress of the Gynarchy – the Supreme Goddess-Mistress Julia Caesar – which is located in a small female-domination church near to the city centre, and which is the scene of an alleged apparition of the said goddess. In fact, at nearly sixty years old, I must be one of the oldest, living things in the city of Femina, but as I am male, and just a public footslave, I don’t really count. Only females matter. My job is to service the street-soiled footwear of the bright, young, female things – students and tourists alike. It tends to be the female tourists during the daytime, and the female students in the evenings, presumably because the latter are studying hard at their le...

The following are some extracts from the c o l o u r f u l blog of a typical, bright and intelligent young woman living in the Gynarchy: About Me 26 years old. Female. Taken.   I like to think of myself as an ‘Asian Babe’, though I was born in the Gynarchy. My parents emigrated from Pakistan just over 20 years ago. They are quite traditional, but I am a very modern young woman –feisty, fun-loving and flirty! Heavily into fashion and bright colours; ambient trance; fitness; and making my own jewellery. I work in the city as a designer in an Advertising Agency. Live with my boyfriend – Thomas, who works as a director in a nearby investment bank. He’s quite a bit older than me, but he’s my hero; the light of my life; strong; handsome; above all rich – which is good for he keeps me in shoes! Which is why I also need a full-time personal footslave – Pigface. Th...

Being a concise collection of further curious scenes from everyday life on Domina Island – the quaint and arcane, northern land of The Righteous. Scene 1 – A Convicted Criminal 23 year old, plump and comely maiden, mistress Florence, was in seventh heaven – or, rather, in her father’s dungeon, gloating over the slave who was confined in her father’s wooden stocks, awaiting the punishment of flogging on the morrow. His crime? Accidentally breaking miss Florence’s shoelace whilst endeavouring to tie the knot on her right, black leather, flat-heeled shoe. Florence was particularly pleased as she had known all along the frayed lace was about to break, but she had steadfastly refused to allow her personal footslave to replace it, despite his protestations and entreaties to be allowed to do so – and now he would suffer the consequences of her selfish actions. She had brought some sustenance with her down to the dungeon, for she hungered and thirsted and considered that she may need s...

18 year old lady Aurelia just couldn’t understand it! As she lay in the shade on her specially imported, luxury divan overlooking her father’s stone quarry – being fed grapes and figs by her ever attentive maidservant, Malia – one of her father’s dirty quarry-slaves in the heat and stench below just didn’t seem to be responding to the big, burly, male overseer’s whip! The terrible sound of the overseer Brutus’s cracking whip echoing around the quarry was even making poor Malia flinch – even though she was no nearer to its stinging blows than her young, Roman ladyship herself, and could rest assured in the knowledge that her mistress Aurelia would never permit a whip to cut across her own, Nubian back. She was her mistress’s friend and confidante, as much as her servant; in fact, the two young women got on like a veritable Roman villa on fire! But as for the middle-aged, male work-slave down below in the dusty quarry – unbelievably he was just cowering there in the dirt, as blow ...