She'd demonstrated her absolute superiority in direct conflict with barely a finger lifted, and shown that she was unbound by social mores by doing so without warning in public. She'd pronounced judgement on Mari, establishing her right to do so. Then she'd extended a helping hand to her, simultaneously an apology, a gesture of respect and an assertion of control. And then she'd done… whatever it was she'd done, whether medical ninjutsu or mastery of body language or genjutsu beyond Mari's ability to detect or whatever. Another assertion of control, and one set on Mari's home ground—she refused to believe that Tsunade was unaware of her specialisation. Tsunade was making no effort to conceal that this was a test of Mari's discipline and composure, of her ability to engage in social combat while her mind and body were at the mercy of the most primal of all emotions, her ability to hold her own when every fibre of her carnal being was screaming to collapse at Tsunade's feet as a willing sex slave.