The blonde mistress, a vision of power in her PVC corset and heels, paces around her captive, her eyes never leaving his terrified gaze. She picks up a cattle prod, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she flicks it on, the ends crackling with electricity. She trails it along his skin, making him flinch and squirm, his breath coming in ragged gasps. She leans in, her voice a low purr, "You like that, don't you, you dirty old man? You like being at my mercy."