"Look where you are, slave, stuck on the end of my jacket's belt. You're a worthless thing to crush, that's all you are..." She then reaches the belt-end to the sole of her leather boot, now resting over one knee. She holds the belt-end, with you clinging, right in front of the treaded sole. You can see every detail of the inground filth imbedded in the sole's non-skid tread.
She chuckles as she presses her soft belt into the sole, smushing your tiny body into the fine lines of the tread. Your guts ooze out into pink and red jelly, filling up a few lines of the tread. She lifts the belt away and smiles at the nice splotch of goo etched into the sole's tread.