As he noticed the pole in the man's hand, the possibilities. What was he thinking of doing to him? A blow to both of his knees? A blow to the stomach? Though his face was never full of emotion, Rimion had what he called "A Sense of Arrival". It was one of the functions of his masochist's aches. "If it were my choice, I'd take by the hand and let you torture me bare in your basement. Yes. Yes. You're beating me with that pole in your hands now... My arms and legs are bound by chains to the wall, and thus I can't fight back... But I'm loving every second. You're beating one body part after another while looking at me with a devilish smirk. I return the smirk... as I'm screaming and moaning with excitement, begging you for more... telling you I've been a bad boy... And then you stop... Yeah, you stop... You drop the pole and leave me there in my blood, laughing and wanting to toy with myself... In the hopes that you're watching me... Wanting you to come back."<br/><br/>As he gave that little scene, his aches halted for a time, a smirk playing on his face as he turned to face Max, "But tell me... Why do you tease me so? Why not show me why I should call you Master. You know that I want to... You know I want it too. You have a masochist who ripened himself for his new Master's punishing pleasure, and you purposely make me wait... They told me you were a sadist. And a handsome one at that..." He said, and then asked, "Or do I have the wrong man?"