<div class="floatleft">(http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/1476/654184a6aa5e57fc67fb1a3.jpg)</div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 30pt;"><strong>J</strong><span class="bbc_u"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 20pt;">OHN</span></span> <strong>F</strong><span class="bbc_u"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 20pt;">ALDON</span></span></span> (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=141932.msg6385799#msg6385799)               </div><div style="text-align: right;"><em>The Blue Iguana</em> {<strong>Location</strong>}                  <br/><em>Clive, Santeri</em> {<strong>Tagging</strong>}                     </div><br/><div style="text-align: right;"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">&lt;+————————————————:</span></strong>               </div><br/><br/>John stared at his Master for a good few moments, his expression blank as always.  Was the man being serious?  Certainly, the brig would have a weakness, just like everything else, so why<em>would</em>he have a problem with it?  He’d never been in one, but he’d been put in quite the elaborate binds, all of which he’d easily freed himself of.  He was mildly distracted by Santeri’s order, picking up the fresh mug and draining it nearly as quickly as it’d been delivered.  Still, he didn’t miss the suggestion.  He turned toward the bar, away from his Master and the man’s ‘friend’.<br/><br/>He listened in as he attempted to let his mind settle with only two drinks.  This was going much too slowly; he wanted to be<em>out</em>, not attempting to gradually drown his mind in piss.  He imagined being nailed to the deck far too vividly, though it wasn’t entirely a negative vision.  The idea of having his hands and feet burnt was only entirely pleasant, recalling the ‘physical contract’ branded into his left ass cheek.  He hummed as he set the empty mug on the bar, casting his gaze back toward Clive with a dull expression.<br/><br/>He wouldn’t say a word, but he did — internally — find it utterly amusing that Clive should think physical pain would mean suffering, in his case.  In his experience, every bit of pain his Master ever caused him was nothing but pleasant, and he wondered, sometimes, how it could be anything less for anyone else.  Unlike most, he loved the feeling a fresh brand offered when pressed against, and the feeling of coming terribly close to death by the hands of another was utter bliss.<br/><br/>He wondered — not for the first time — which of the men would better deliver the pain he secretly desired; only Sani had ever discovered his need, and that was an accident.  He simply couldn’t react the way the man wanted, though perhaps that was the reason he was kept around.  He knew he was off; he’d been told so many times over his lifetime, but couldn’t find himself bothered by it.  He never tried to change himself or grow any more social in any sense.  He never saw the point of it.  Humans were odd creatures, and he couldn’t help but feel a detachment from them.<br/><br/>At least, until they were dead.  Then he felt an unwanted connection deeper than anyone could imagine.<br/><br/>Speaking of which, the small voice in his ear was getting very frustrating.  He batted at the air beside him, as if swatting a fly away from his head.<br/><br/>“Sani,” he tapped the short Master’s shoulder.  “I’m not getting drunk, here.”  He’d have to piss ten times before the liquor would have any affect; he hoped the man would take the hint and they could move on to a bar more suited to his needs.<br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: left;">               <strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">:————————————————+&gt;</span></strong></div>