Soft, weak sliced bread is no match for 250lbs of sexy womanhood perched on top of shiny black high-heeled fetish pumps. Watch as I obliterate this stack of slices, trampling on them one by one and tearing them apart with my 6” heels. And listen: to the soft swish of my pantyhose-clad thighs rubbing together, to my wicked giggle as I leave my impression on every slice, and to the clicking and scraping of my heels on the hard terrazzo floor.