Patheticus Minimus 3D

Although he licks boots and shoes day in and day out for a living, because he is so thick the shoelick-shopslave’s customers must still point out to him the exact areas of their footwear they want lickshined. Stupid slave! Maybe a few dozen lashes of the whip would make him lick his customers’ boots more intelligently?

She remains as cold as ice whilst the public footslave is kissing her warm, sheepskin boots. But she breaks into a warm smile when a watching master-sir compliments her on her stunning beauty.  

The prisoner-slave kneels at the feet of the prison-governess mistress as she contemplates his punishment. She has already determined that he shall be beaten with the flail. The only question remaining in her pretty head is how many strokes to sentence him to! Truly the male prisoner is at this young woman’s mercy and in her power. No wonder he stares meekly at her shoes and socks whilst she passes judgement upon him!

She’s the type of girl who wears boots with socks in the summer – magnificent! And she makes sure I get a good view of her ankle-high, pink-hooped black socks along with my mouthful of muddy boot! As if to add insult to injury she then crouches down and smokes her cigarette directly in front of my confined face, before turning her pretty back on me and walking away across the square. As I said – a truly magnificent young woman, to be admired and served by a humble public footservant like me!

The household porch footslave shows respect for his mistress as she returns home from a shopping trip. Note how he studies her sock as he kisses her pretty, outstretched ballet-flat, looking for any signs of sweat. And rightly so – for his mistress’s socks are very much his business, being a porch footslave. Indeed, her socks and shoes are his only business, though for that very reason he is dying to know whether she has bought any new shoes or socks whilst she was out shopping.

It’s the morning after my rainy night in the stocks, and Ms Mukta madam walks stealthily across the damp, dewy grass in order to ask me how I had liked it – being confined in the low-lying stocks all night in the pouring rain? She enquires as to whether I had slept well, and then gaily informs me that she herself had slept ‘like a log’ in her nice, warm bed next to her husband, my master – master Simon sir. I’m pleased to report that this morning Ms Mukta is wearing a fresh pair of socks, which I notice as I once again am required to kiss-respect her sneakered feet. As I do so, my mistress informs me that she is going to leave me in the stocks all day, as she and her husband have no urgent work for me to do. She explains that they are taking their pet dog, Rufus, out for a run in the local park, before heading off to visit relatives for the rest of the day. I can therefore ‘lie all day long in the dirt on my belly, like a worm’, for all she cares! I thank my mistress Mukta kindly for ...

‘Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Gather ye round, good citizens of the Gynarchy, to witness the whipping of this prisoner-slave by his master. Fifty sound lashes and true are to be delivered to the slave’s back. Come one! Come all! Enjoy the spectacle…’ Haha! Do you think the town crier will be the only one ‘crying’ after the prisoner-slave’s whipping, or will the latter be blubbering for mercy over his master-sir’s red and white baseball socks?! Or perhaps the beautiful Chinese girl with the pink hair, or the charming fraulein with the blonde locks, will impose their socks on the whipped prisoner’s weeping mouth?