My friend Dula and I are lounging at the bar, reflecting on the recent club party, an enjoyable event where slaves endured various hardships. One such slave still remains, seizing the opportunity to worship us by lying prostrate under our bar stools, gazing at the unattainable beauty of two women.
Unbeknownst to him, we’ve decided to reacquaint him with our heels’ imprints. We take turns trampling his flaccid abdomen, leaving the marks of our boots. As the slave attempts to scream in pain, one of us swiftly inserts a heel into his mouth, silencing him, and compelling him to savor the sensation.