It felt strange to be called "Petey" in this type of scenario though he wasn't certain why, but he listened intently. In a way, he supposed he could understand the idea behind it. The idea of being slapped in the face or his feet sounded far, far from attractive but... At least he didn't have the connection between the action and his parents, his parents most certainly had never struck their blessed little boy.

At the mention of touching the equipment, he looked towards the front, lips thinning, but what had he said out there? He wanted to learn. Go up there. So he nodded and flexed his fingers once before moving up towards the front of the room, towards the equipment, but didn't quite reach out to touch any of it. Was he allowed to? Not on a play-level but it wasn't his politeness level. Still, other people were up there, picking things up, so he ended up picking up one of the floggers, fingering the material. Would it really not hurt? At least it wasn't leather - that one over there looked like leather, ouch. He ended up flicking one of the lengths of velvet against the skin of his forearm, trying to see if it really hurt or not.