Carmen's high heels click on the cold, hardwood floor as she approaches her slave, trussed up like a Christmas present. She runs a gloved hand over his body, tracing the outline of his muscles through the plastic wrap. "You've been a bad boy," she purrs, her voice a low, sultry threat. She picks up a riding crop, the leather tip snapping against his skin, leaving red welts. He moans, his cock straining against the plastic. She grins, climbing onto his face, her pussy pressing down, smothering him. He struggles, but she's relentless, her body moving in rhythm with the crop's stinging lashes.