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Alone in his cell, a portly monk, clad only in his habit, engages in a private ritual of penance. His humbler, a sturdy wooden device, secures his ankles, keeping him kneeling, vulnerable. He wields a leather flogger, its tendrils kissing his massive, quivering ass. Each lash, a prayer, a confession. He groans, not in pain, but in release, as his feet, bound and exposed, tingle with perverse pleasure.