You break him down, piece by piece.

"Get up, bitch. I'm not done with you, not by a long shot." Joe looks up at you with what he must think are puppy dog eyes. He certainly looks pathetic, but not pitiful. His dead eyes dart around the trailer, looking for a weapon while trying to plead for mercy. "No? You don't want to cut me up? Don't you want to bury me in the foundations and burn down the building?" He shoots you a look that's pure ****, and you shoot your pink steel toed work boots up to break his jaw in the other direction and send him flying back.

"Fuhg GROAN yoosh!" Joe manages a feeble moan of defiance, but it's all pride and no will behind it. He doesn't even try to make it to his feet. You look down at the blood on your boots and look up at the soft, spoiled shit that dirtied them, and then you stroll over slowly, showing off your sexy curves so he doesn't forget even for a suffering second that it's a sissy breaking him to pieces. You push your boot against his face, grinding into it and smearing his blood against it. He always seem to get off on humiliating you, more than he seemed to enjoy fucking you, and you think it's time to return the favor.

"So, I could stop now, before I do any damage one of your daddy's fancy doctors can't fix. But you'd have to empty your own personal accounts so we can pay off the muscle you hired to kill us." You twist your heel against his soft cheek, cutting into his flesh and making him squeal delightfully. Still, he has that unearned arrogance that won't allow him to admit you've won.

"Fugh yoosh! I don'd hash tah paysh em shid! Thoshe dum' fughers willsh killyew fer funsh!" Joe must not have remembered the intercom was still on, but he starts to figure it out when he hears angry shouts from the stiffed stud soldiers outside. They begin freeing your sissy sisters and wake up your daughter, who appears a little dazed, but no worse for wear. Joe looks on in horror as his security screens fill with images of an angry mob surrounding his trailer. His eyes are filled with fear now as they dart over to you as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. So you drop it hard.

"Oh they look pretty mad. Well, don't worry. You don't have anyway to pay them out of your private accounts anyway. You were too greedy, siphoning the corporate coffers into your own offshore accounts. When we got access to the corporate funds, it led us to your swiss bank holdings, and you were so cocky that you let me see you enter the password dozens of times while you struggled to maintain an erection inside me. Isn't that right, STUDDADDY69?" You watch as the proverbial shoe falls crushing his hopes, and then you bring the literal boot crashing down breaking his fingers. His howls of pain are met with resounding cheers across the crew.

After a few magnificent minutes of watching Joe sob and squeal, you see one last flicker of hope rekindle in his empty eyes. He's hoping his daddy can save him. All he has to do is take his beating, maybe offer a few crocodile tears of forgiveness, then go home to Daddy Warcrimebucks and tell him all about the sneaky sissies that sullied the proud Jameson family name. You let him hold onto that hope for a few more seconds. You watch him attempt to form a smug smirk with a unhinged jaw. Then you grab his phone from the counter and pull up the latest headline. 'Joseph Jameson III arrested for bribery, racketeering charges. Son sought as accessory, still at large.' Then you watch the light in his eyes fade to deep, dark despair.

"Puhleashe...furgivesh muh." He sounds almost sincere, or at least sincerely sorry he is going to have to pay for the consequences of his actions. You hear the crowd outside calling for his head, hear them call for you to kill him or make him a sissy. You've dreamed of this moment so many times as you planned your sissy sabotage. Now that it's here, you almost can't believe what you are about to do next...