The grip of the flogger was warm, a solid strength in the wrapped leather grip that fit firmly in his hand. He took possession of the device with the right, the left still holding Genevieve’s arm up, baring the flesh of her rear and spine to view. The tongs were draw over the supple curves of her flesh, slowly baring her body to the onlookers behind him.<br/><br/>And there they were placed, his standing form behind her kneeling one. His carriage proud, upright and hers in supplication. A distinct contrast between their houses and their arts. The tongs swung lightly in the space beside his leg, his exposed body, the base signs arousal present and displayed, the difference between the device and the man. He waited, knowing that Genevieve’s arms would be burning slowly with the pose she was forced to hold. He waited still, for that moment as the crowd continued the waltz-like temp of their snapping.<br/><br/>At the next snap he extended his arm, the tongs of the flogger swaying slightly as he held it outstretched from his body. He counted with the host, and at two his wrist flicked back the mass of leather before  the silent count of three made him bring the device forward with a serpent’s strike.<br/><br/>The solid sound of connection, the leather landing and stroking the pristine white flesh even as the host snapped in unison. The leather stroked Genevieve from the side, catching the rounded curve of her rear and then dragged across while splaying out. The result was the reddened mark of contact, the intake of breath from the crowd. More than one patron giving into their own desires by the sounds the group made. The tempo almost faltered before Gravon looked up, about, daring the assembled patrons to stop in their accompaniment of his display.<br/><br/>A full three counts as his arm remained across his torso before the flogger was in motion again. Once more the stroke of leather to flesh met at the snap of the patron’s, marking Genevieve’s flesh with matching wounds. It was like this he began. The strokes measured, timed to the tempo of the snapping, first right and then left, slowly changing the hue of her skin from the repeated impacts of the leather tongs.<br/>