It was a show, for now, that Gravon gave the crowd. Slow moving and without a perceptible effort he stretched his arm out, turning the handle of the flogger to be inverted, letting the tips of the leather strips dangle atop the flesh of Genevieve's feet. The flogger was a tool of torment, and not all torment was the heavy impact play of deep aching contact. He let the tines kiss the underside of her foot, drape over the ankle, begin a slow methodical ascent up the outside of her leg. Yes, it was contact, and torment in its own way. In a consigned session he would have done this if he knew his patron was ready for the flogger, use it to break their concentration, to use delicate torment instead of pain to awaken their senses.  This time is was a delay.<br/><br/>"No, I know the look of a Sadist, his pleasure is not that of our nature, he wants you to suffer for something other than our calling and his delight. This is, " There was a pause as Gravon cast his glance about the crowd once, he held a sneer of disdain upon his features, as if he were to punish the lot of them. His eyes moved before he turned his head, giving him more time on the portly man who was her patron. The flogger made it the the back of her right leg, he let the handle rock like a pendulum, the sounds of the tongs could be heard as a soft "whaping" sound against first the outside of her thigh, then the back, slowly moving to her rear, dancing dangerously closer to her exposed sex, her lips, and the soft skin nestled between the curves of her rear. he whispered once more " this is personal."<br/><br/>He kept her hands locked above her back as he laid the handle of the flogger along her curved spine. The tongs covering her in a false display of modesty. he stood slowly, raising his right hand, snapping the thumb and middle finger of the hand in a slow tempo. he looked about, encouraging the crowd of assembled patrons to do the same. Slowly the rythmn was taken up.<br/><br/>Snap... two...three.<br/><br/>Snap...two... three.<br/><br/>A slow tempo, a building of the sound, still soft, but now more pronounced as others joined in. Soon the crowd was snapping in time, setting the tempo of a slow walk. He reached down, running his fingertips along Genvieve's spine until he wrapped his hand around the flogger. He drew it from her body and denied her its comfort before the next stage in the dance began.