In the dimly lit dungeon, a serf, bound and blindfolded, awaits his mistress. She, clad in leather, teases him with a riding crop, tracing circles around his nipples and down his chest. He gasps as she snaps it against his skin, leaving red welts. She orders him to beg, and he complies, his voice echoing in the stone chamber. His mistress smiles, pleased with his progress, as she unties him and leads him to the St. Andrew's cross.