One of the slaves led me outside, whereupon Mistress Vixen appeared with several slaves who carried her heavy camera equipment.  She asked me to choose a slave who I would like to dominate. One particularly sturdy looking slave stood out to me, and Mistress Vixen ordered him to crawl at my feet. We walked across the yard and I sat up on a wooden gate for my first few pictures.  I found posing for Mistress Vixen to be very easy and she was delightful to pose for. For several minutes I was photographed in various stances on my own.  But I knew that what Mistress Vixen really wanted to see, and capture on film, was how well I dealt with slaves. I knew that I was under the spotlight and that I must put on an impressive display for her.  My chosen slave bobbed about beneath me, following me wherever I went.  He irritated the hell out of me and I kneed him in the face and knocked him clean over onto his back. Before he had time to react, I stomped on his foot with my heel and pinned him to the ground.  He wriggled and writhed in agony, but I was determined to show off my power and refused to let him go.  Then, when I finally released him, he went to clamber onto his hands and knees.  My boot came up as fast as lightning and I kicked his fat, ugly face. He snuffled and shuffled about as he tried to recover.  I saw him only as a disgusting creature who deserved to be punished and humiliated, like all men. I raised my boot to his lips and commanded him to lick it.  It was satisfying to see the male lump cleaning my toecap with his tongue.  I am sure that he must have felt most honoured to be allowed to perform this task for me.  Slowly but surely, the harder he worked, the more polished my boots became.