In the private voyeur's room of the dungeons, Leif's face almost touched the one-way glass. He stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, and his arms crossed. Now clad in all black, he looked even more the part of a potential formidable master. It was here that Sir Glen stood judging, not the companion and the guest who had asked to try the companion again in the afternoon, but Leif.
He dodged direct questions particularly about his life while so far away from the Order. Life had definitely sobered the man.
On the other side of the glass, the companion was enjoying a splendid task of serving the guest on his knees, but the stoic Leif didn't even seem to blink much. The throes of ecstasy shared by the couple heightened, moans of contentment became more drawn out.
"You seem desensitized to all that is around you Leif. What can we do to bring you back to the pleasure that life can be?" Sir Glen asked as a scream of pleasure emanated from the companion.
"She kept my pendant Sir Glen. I didn't think you would allow her. And I still have no clue as to why she isn't more than a novice in your household, or is Laurie jealous?" His response was distracted, ignoring the question posed to him.
Mildly grateful to be on the receiving end of a conversation from Leif, Sir Glen decided to take his cues from Leif. "Hardly. Taylor is allowed to make that choice. If she finds enjoyment in serving you, then I see no reason why she cannot continue to. It is her choice, unless you'd rather have someone else."
"No, for all the devil's goods, I like her spirit. I've not tested it yet, I was hoping you would help me." He asked sheepishly, finally looking down at his feet, drawing them together.
"What is your poison Leif?"
"Sensory deprivation. It's the only thing I've been able to control within myself. I was hoping last night to find other means, but everything else I seem to look at…I loose my patience and only want to rip the companion away from their experience."
