[With a strong, practiced arm, she cast the whip past her shoulder and behind her head before expertly flicking forward. The braided fuchsia leather curled, the fall of the whip rushing past to SNAP loudly in the air as the thick leather at the tip struck Zevran's bare back. Her earlier adjustments ensured that the sting was far less than what if she were actually trying to do him real harm, so as to allow him to endure more, and with less permanent markings left behind. She stopped after the first strike, to take stock of whether adjustments needed to be made. However, she was quite certain he would have no complaints. She paid no heed to the eyes being drawn by the loud and grand display, watching Zevran carefully.]
no subject