Non narrative: just the amazing sounds of my boots, leather gloves and the eerie soundtrack. Let your imagination run wild. I am in my luxury penthouse with the feed from the security cameras playing on my big screen. It shows the cells I keep my men trapped in. All willing subjects to my many eccentric whims. I put on my furs, and my lambskin gloves. But tonight is about my new thigh high leather boots with metal stiletto heels. 8 Inches in total. They cover to just above the knees. They feel like power and lust all mixed together. I will go down to the cells in the basement later, walk up...

Non narrative: just the amazing sounds of my boots, leather gloves and the eerie soundtrack. Let your imagination run wild. I am in my luxury penthouse with the feed from the security cameras playing on my big screen. It shows the cells I keep my men trapped in. All willing subjects to my many eccentric whims. I put on my furs, and my lambskin gloves. But tonight is about my new thigh high leather boots with metal stiletto heels. 8 Inches in total. They cover to just above the knees. They feel like power and lust all mixed together. I will go down to the cells in the basement later, walk up and down the concrete floors in front of the cells, taunting and teasing all those sad pathetic men down there. I may let a few lick the bottom of my boots through the cell bars. But for now I am luxuriating and enjoying the boots myself. I look in the mirror and imagine I will be wearing these boots and this coat and nothing else when I pick a prisoner to play with in my own unique way. These thoughts arouse me. I know they arouse you