There was that sound, that slow rasp of leather drawn across skin as the flogger was pulled over Genevieve's chest. That moment where the rose pink of excited flesh atop her breasts, hardened by arousal and the chill of the room, became visible through the dark colour of the flogger's tongs. Even the steady rise and fall of her torso as she drew her breath seemed accentuated in some way.<br/><br/>Gravon's flesh was darker, more sun kissed that the alabaster flawlessness that was Genevieve's body. His tone was well defined, chiseled in some places, and was a contrast to the subtle smoothness of her flesh. This was not to say she was weak, only that her strength was contained within the perfect form of submission. She appeared feminine and delicate in so many ways, yet she was Valerian, she could sustain more torments than many a trailed solider and emerge intact in body and mind.<br/><br/>Gravon used his body as an object for attention as much as he used the flogger. Leaning to Genevieve's back he pushed forward, sending his long torso to hers, pushing her forward, slowly guiding her to the floor. His phallus, growing in warm and heaviness , pushed between them until their pose no longer hid it. From behind the salacious display was of her pristine curves divided by his slowly hardening flesh. He brought his right leg up, planting the foot on the floor beside her ribcage, looking caught between the desire to sprint, or to mount her like some animal and take her as he may. Already sweat had begun to appear, soft motes that gave his tanned skin a shine.<br/><br/>Gravon could sense the anticipation in the room, he had performed before observers before, but never so many. Nor so many that seemed to hunger for the anticipated torment of the beautiful woman before him. He gathered her left hand in his  and slowly brought it behind her back. In a display of bravado he placed the flogger in her hand, letting the tongs dangle down along her outstretched arm. Her gathered her right hand in his hand and brought it to meet its twin, holding them both behind her back. He stood quickly, ratcheting her arms, forcing the shoulders to roll forward and her forehead to meet the tiles of the floor. The implement of her torment trapped between her hands. He stood astride her, one leg planted on either side of her ribs, as if her were driving her forward upon her knees.<br/><br/>The position looked painful, and it would cause the dull acidic ache to build in her arms and shoulders, but it was by no means the extent of what it could be. Gravon was being careful , very careful, until he knew what game was afoot. He held Genevieve before him, his body atop hers, his naked form on blatant display as he once again challenged the crowd with his gaze. His voice whispered from beneath his mask, the dry sound of crushed petals to hide his own natural sound. He spoke to the crowd, his words an enticement, a dare, a chance to become part and parcel of the event.<br/><br/>"Does this entertain you?"<br/>