This is little Misty, our tiny tiny shitland who has Trevor the Pocket Rocket right under her hoof. Before she arrived he was a teeth and heels monster, since meeting he has been as soft as butter and totally reformed.
She wears the equine trousers in the relationship and if he steps out of line she explodes in a flurry kicks and whinnies like an air raid siren.
Failing that the off nip on the rear reminds him that he should never cross her. Poor lads backside bears her hall mark.