My slave eagerly awaits, bound to a chair, both witness and participant in a unique concert. I circle him, building anticipation, allowing him to feel the weight of my stiletto heels, and finally taking a seat upon him. From this point, his face becomes the instrument for my slapping concert. I strike him repeatedly, without respite, savoring the sound of each impact. Brief intermissions are granted, during which he is permitted to revere my hands by letting them rest upon his face. I then rise and resume the concert from new angles, continuing until his face is flushed red.