Julian sat majestically in a plush, velvet chair, his eyes fixed on the three men tied up before him.
The room was dimly lit, the only sound was the soft groaning of the men and the occasional crack of the wand as it struck their skin.
They were positioned in a row, their hands tied behind their backs with thick, black rope. Their faces were contorted in pain, their eyes red and puffy from crying.
Julian's guards, dressed in black suits, stood behind the men, each one holding a wand that they used to strike the men's backs and shoulders.
The guards' faces were expressionless, their eyes fixed on Julian as they awaited his instructions.
As Julian watched, a small, cruel smile played on his lips. He was enjoying the men's pain, reveling in their suffering. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he watched the scene unfold.
