Bound to the St. Andrew's Cross, the sub's breath hitches as the dominatrix approaches, a cat-o'-nine-tails in hand. She runs the tails along the sub's skin, a whisper of what's to come. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she strikes, the tails biting into flesh. The sub cries out, a sound that's equal parts pain and ecstasy. The dominatrix smiles, her eyes gleaming with power, as she continues to dance, each strike a testament to her mastery, each mark a testament to their shared love of the edge between pleasure and pain.