Diana's breath hitches as the first stroke lands, a sharp, stinging line across her tender flesh. She counts each blow, her voice echoing in the room, 'One, Sir. Two, Sir.' Her ass turns a rosy red, tears threatening to spill but never falling. Dr. Lomp's voice is firm, yet caring, 'You're doing so well, Diana. Show me your strength.' Diana's body writhes, her moans a mix of pain and pleasure. After the final stroke, she's allowed to stand, her body marked, her spirit unbroken. Dr. Lomp approaches, running a hand over her heated skin, 'Well done, slave. You've pleased me.'