In the sanctum of her private boudoir, the mistress commands her submissive to present himself for punishment. He enters, kneeling before her, his eyes cast down. She inspects him, running her gloved hands over his body, feeling the tremble of excitement beneath his skin. She selects her favorite riding crop, the leather smooth and worn from use. She begins, her strokes precise and measured, each one leaving a trails of fire across his flesh. He gasps, his body tensing, but he knows better than to move without her command. She smiles, her eyes flashing, as she loses herself in the symphony of his pain and her pleasure.