I'm even a worse bitch in slow-motion. My meanness is exaggerated when I walk excruciatingly slowly, flaunting my sexy legs and not allowing you to approach me. Every move I make in my pointy-toed tigerstriped stiletto heels and short black skirt seems even more painful, but it's better that way, isn't it? I'm a common whore, swaying on my painful heels. Listen to my hard heels making cannon shots as I go step by step on the tile floor. You'll follow me close as I go booming down the hall, but I hear you behind me and turn suddenly and you know when I do you better freeze where you are...and y...

I'm even a worse bitch in slow-motion. My meanness is exaggerated when I walk excruciatingly slowly, flaunting my sexy legs and not allowing you to approach me. Every move I make in my pointy-toed tigerstriped stiletto heels and short black skirt seems even more painful, but it's better that way, isn't it? I'm a common whore, swaying on my painful heels. Listen to my hard heels making cannon shots as I go step by step on the tile floor. You'll follow me close as I go booming down the hall, but I hear you behind me and turn suddenly and you know when I do you better freeze where you are...and you do. I know you're getting a boner watching my hard calves pump me along, but I don't care! When you're too close, I tap my foot on the tile. Listen to those thunderclaps emanating from my hard angry feet. They let you know where you belong. When you've really pushed me by coming much too close, I turn around and come to where you're on your knees and pace menacingly right by your nose! Let me slowly sit on the bench and make my legs do all the things little you likes big me to do. Don't get any ideas about touching, though. Just look. Watch my high-arched foot slowly-slowly swiveling around in my slutty tigerstriped shoe. Desire it but don't touch it. I allow you to get up and go around to the other side, but you have to stay on your knees. You may not stand. You see the cuts on the side of my thigh? That's pure muscle you're looking at. I said ‘looking at,' not touching. You hear my heels scrape deafeningly on the old tile and see my legs stretched out in front of me, but that's all you are allowed to do. Just look and listen to the echoes as I stand, make muscle calves, and flex my veiny feet. Just look, I said!