“Does it hurt, when we use you as a doormat?” Kelly asks with a genuine look of concern.

The man, kneeling at her feet, hesitates for a moment, as if fearing the question might be a trap. His naked body is bruised and scarred. There’s a metal collar locked around his neck.

Slowly, he nods.

“It did seem like you were in agony, when I wiped my feet on you this morning,” Kelly continues, glancing down at her pretty red stiletto shoes. “These metal heels are so sharp and pointy, you must have feared, they were going to stab you to death?”

As the man nods his head, again, a smile flickers on her lips.

“You probably want to rewind time and go back to the old days, when you were our boss, gazing at our breasts, whilst you told us what to do?”

He shakes his head.

She laughs.