Draped in leather and laced in sky-high heels, the mysterious K. prowls the room, her boots clicking a seductive rhythm on the hardwood floor. She teases, running her gloved hands along her stocking-clad legs, tracing the seams up to her garter belt. With a wicked smile, she turns, presenting her boots to the camera, and begins a slow, torturous trample, grinding her soles into the floor, imagining it's a face beneath her heels.