In a dimly lit dungeon, a bound and gagged angel awaits her master's mercy. Her arms are stretched wide, secured to a St. Andrew's cross, while her legs are spread and tied to eyebolts on the floor. The master appears, clad in leather, and runs a gloved hand over the angel's quivering body. He twists her nipples, making her gasp around the gag, before picking up a riding crop and leaving welts on her tender skin. The angel's body is a canvas, her cries of pain and pleasure his symphony.