Stilettos. So sleek. So stylish. So painful.

Can’t you just imagine it? Me having you tied down on a small platform, spread eagle, those balls resting on the bare plywood. You would, of course, be blindfolded.

I’d step up onto the platform, and you would hear the clicking of my heels, the hollow echo in the wood itself as I walk around you. I’d give you a hard kick in your ribs, the pointed toe digging into your side. Just to hear what kind of sounds you would make.

But of course, you know where I am heading, long before I step over your outstretched leg. Standing in between your legs, I nudge your balls with my stiletto. Moving them into place, I slightly lift my heel and bring it down on top of your testicles, leaning into it, putting more and more of my weight onto that food until you stat making those sounds I like so much.

Then, I pull my foot away. You have a moment of sweet release.

Until of course, I suddenly STOMP DOWN driving my stiletto’s heel right into your balls.