Lady Blackdiamoond stands in front of the slave, who is held in chains with his head bowed. The room is silent, only the soft clinking of metal accompanying her calm footsteps. She walks slowly around him with dominant harshness, and he receives two hundred strokes with the riding crop on his ass. He moans and writhes in pain, but with a determined impulse, she makes him remain still and upright. His devotion to her is boundless, her gaze is calm and superior, and he senses that she is in complete control of the situation.