In a world of her own, she commands, he obeys. Tied securely to a St. Andrew's Cross, the male slave squirms as his mistress plucks at his nipples, each tug drawing a cry from his lips. She grins, reveling in his discomfort, as she runs a sharp nail down his chest, leaving a thin trail of blood. 'Rough and tumble,' she purrs, 'isn't that what you wanted?'