Or Int. A possessive form of I, of me, belonging to me, belonging to one’s self, that I have, hold (in sickness or in health, till death we do part)... or possess…blah blah blah blah… You understand the meaning of the first part, right? Good. We’ll move on. But let me stress why he’s mine. Well, simply, because I found him. I discovered him! Yes! And, most importantly, because he can’t get away. Much as he detests being mine, there’s nothing he can do about it. Mine he is. He’s more of a hostage. "What happened to you?" she asked, not realizing that Piccolo waswondering what she would taste liked cooked or raw. It didn't matter atthe moment that he didn't eat; all that mattered was the various wayshe could kill her, to get his mind off of his humiliation. Instead ofanswering her, Piccolo kept on glaring.They locked into a staring match; the spunky human verses the huge,green, extremely powerful Namek. In a matter of wills, though, itdidn't matter who was stronger physically.Piccolo was. He ... he loves it. We let him and ... and Darren, Alice’s husband, watch. They both love it.”“Okay,” I said. “Kirsten. That is very cool. Thank you for telling me. It sounds like fun. I’m glad you’re able to let go of your inhibitions and enjoy yourself. And I’m glad Bryan understands and doesn’t feel threatened by it. He doesn’t, does he?”I hoped to hell he didn’t. Bryan seemed like a very emotionally secure and settled individual to me. I hoped he could watch his wife take pleasure from. “Your wife is the best, Jace. The absolute best. You’re a lucky, lucky man.”“Right now, you’re luckier, Brock.” I looked down so see his long superiority slip from its target, then looked into my wife’s eyes “You heard your girlfriend’s confession, Brock. So is she.”Our eyes remained locked, “I’m sorry, Jace, honey.”“Don’t be. I understand.”Her confession inducer, the Willow Switch, was no longer hard, and its removal seemed to uncork the white, creamy, dangerous fluid that flowed out. Maybe.