Today’s mood is boots.
Clean black combat boots, heavy and practical. Perhaps steel-toed to protect the wearer - and for more weight for kicking.
Boots seen from floor level, too close to the face for comfort.
Confident footfalls. Even, stable posture. Sharp contrast between the fearless wearer of the boots, comfortable, powerful - and the vulnerable victim shaking on the floor at their feet.
Boots for kicking. Casual kicks, bruising but barely taking any effort to deliver, to convey a message. Nudging the victim into motion. Emphasising words. Or just reminding them how worthless and helpless they are.
A kick to the back of the knee to make a standing victim drop, or planted firmly on the back of someone kneeling to drive them to the floor.
Savage kicks, delivered with feeling. A beating that they will feel for weeks, that might break things, that they will remember every time they see those boots.
And of course, boots that step on the victim, using body weight to oh-so-trivially inflict pain. A boot on their hand or wrist or ankle, grinding the bones against the floor. A boot on the side of their face, pushing them down, leaving a tread-print on their skin so everyone can see their humiliation.
A boot on the victim’s back, pinning them to the floor, making them gasp for air as more weight is slowly, casually leaned on them to hammer home the authority of those boots. Unforgiving treads grinding into a whipped back, making the pain worse along with the humiliation.
Got to love a good pair of boots.