The dungeon's cold stone walls bear witness to Mistress T's mastery. She orders Slave B to his knees, his hands bound behind his back. She teases him, her body brushing against his, her voice a low purr in his ear. Then, the first crack of the whip. He jolts, but she's just beginning. She paints his body with red welts, each one a testament to her skill. She uses him, fucking him hard, her body slamming against his. He's her plaything, her toy, and she's determined to make them both scream.