Some of you will recall that I have bitch-boy worship either my arse or my footwear while I apply my make-up in the weekday mornings. Yesterday morning, one of his tasks, while I was in the shower, was to clean and polish the boots I would be wearing that day.
It came to me putting on my make-up and he had to kiss my boots while I did so. (He has to make a kissing noise with each little peck of lips on leather and I order him to move from one boot to the other, just because I can.) There was a brief exchange this morning at the outset.
‘Please not kiss your boots Mistress. I might get black boot polish on my lips from when I just cleaned the boots.’
‘If that happens it will be because you did not rub the boot polish into the boot properly so you will deserve to have boot polish on your lips won’t you. Now get on with it.’
What was he thinking!