“Uh-huh, sure, I think you just can't accept that I'm talented,” Desmond said playfully punching her on the leg. She looked at him strangely.“Ok...y, how about this. You both just kissed me, now how about you kiss each other, and see how that measures up. That way, if both of you say the other person is better then me, you will accept that you're equally as good. Besides, I feel like I'm just being used here, oh don't look like that Desmond,” she said seeing the brief look of shock pass over his. ’ She watched him being greeted by an older gentleman, finely dressed. The man looked to her and smiled, then continued his discussion with Bastion. He turned to enter the building and Bastion returned to Miria, ‘Come with me….this is what I wanted you to see.’ Confused a little she climbed down, taking Bastion’s hand, and started walking towards the door. Bastion opened it, and as Miria entered she realized where she was….it was a church. She quickly turned to Bastion, but was unable to form. He growled out a single word, “Beautiful,” then applied a stinging swat, leaving his mark to burn against the creamy flesh before resuming his seat. She gasped in delighted surprise as he smacked her ass, feeling his print mark her brilliantly. “Turn around pet and lower your arms.” His voice caressed her like smoked honey. She turned slowly feeling him taking up the slack in the leash once more, lowering her arms and whimpering when she realized they were level with her heaving chest and could. He should've taken the lift. A bit exhausted he reaches the target floor. Immediately he notices weird souncs coming from further down the corridor. Rhythmic bumps, a muffled voice? Two voices? It's really hard to tell... With one heavy bag of luggage in each hand he hurries along the hallway towards the source of the commotion. Room 4.69. Standing right in front of the door he thinks he can even perceive muffled screams mixed with slapping and bumping. Is someone being beaten up in there??.