My slave is about to experience a serious as beating, because he dared to allow his lips to touch my skin while worshipping my boots, when he was clearly instructed not to. I order him to turn away from me so he cannot gaze upon my beauty, bend him over and rain hell on him with my whips. From the comfort of my throne, I whip his back relentlessly and without mercy.

Striking him again and again, as he thrashes around to somehow process and accept the excruciating pain. Over and over I strike, harder and harder, until his back is welted, bruised and lacerated. I rise from my throne ...

My slave is about to experience a serious as beating, because he dared to allow his lips to touch my skin while worshipping my boots, when he was clearly instructed not to. I order him to turn away from me so he cannot gaze upon my beauty, bend him over and rain hell on him with my whips. From the comfort of my throne, I whip his back relentlessly and without mercy.

Striking him again and again, as he thrashes around to somehow process and accept the excruciating pain. Over and over I strike, harder and harder, until his back is welted, bruised and lacerated. I rise from my throne and present my boot to him for another opportunity to make up for his indiscretion. I then continue whipping him as he worships, to reinforce my never ending position of cruel authority.