The rhythm of my stilettos echoes as I make my entrance. I am a vision of beauty, and the submissive at my feet, bound by chains, is left speechless by emotion and pain. I tug at the nipple clamps I’ve attached to him, a reminder of my power. “Greetings, Mistress,” he manages to utter. I deliver four swift slaps, then notice the sweat accumulating on my body, my leather jacket trapping in the scent of my armpits. I force him to inhale deeply, then order him to use his tongue to clean my sweaty pits. I supervise his efforts, ensuring a thorough cleaning. Once satisfied, I remove the clamps and command him to remain chained up, awaiting my return to his position at my feet.