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I do not own Tarzan or related characters and am not making a profit from sharing this story here. The character was created by Edgar Rice Burroughs and is now in the public domain. Any similarity between the characters in this story and real people is entirely coincidental and incredibly hot.
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Chapter 6: To Catch a Slave(r) -------------------------------- (c) tarzanstud1@gmail.com
Tarzan and Kessler were disappointed to sneak up on the slaver's camp only to find they'd already broken camp. That could only mean that they had gathered all the captives to take to auction and would be selling them off in a nearby village soon. Tarzan suggested they head straight for the closest big village and adapt their plan to infiltrate the auction.
The forest path stretched ahead of them, dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead. Tarzan walked beside Kessler, the rhythm of their steps matching the cadence of their shared purpose.
As they walked, Tarzan's gaze wandered, taking in the rich tapestry of the jungle around them. He started to speak without properly addressing Kessler in the manner of a slave when Kessler's voice sliced through the air, firm and commanding.
"Put a `Master' on it," he corrected, the word carrying the weight of their arrangement.
Tarzan's jaw tightened, a subtle reminder that this charade demanded their full commitment. He nodded in acknowledgment.
"Yes...Master," he replied, the words rolling off his tongue with newfound certainty.
Kessler's gaze narrowed, his expression uncompromising. Without a word, he snapped a switch from a nearby tree to use in case tarzan needed further encouragement, the sound echoing through the forest. It was a stark reminder of their roles, a lesson not to be forgotten.
"We must maintain the illusion, Tarzan," Kessler admonished, the switch a tangible symbol of their agreement. "You are to address me as Master, always."
Tarzan felt the sting of the switch on his left pec, a sharp jolt that reverberated through him. He understood the necessity of this deception, the gravity of their mission.
"Yes, Master," he affirmed, his voice carrying a blend of respect and obedience.
As they continued their journey, Kessler's voice cut through the air once more, laced with a taunting edge.
"Do you truly believe that your slave-like loincloth will be enough to convince the mighty slavers that you are nothing more than a lowly servant?"
Tarzan met Kessler's gaze, his eyes unwavering.
"Tarzan strength known far and wide, Master. No one believe tarzan is mere slave," he stated, his confidence ringing true.
Kessler scoffed, a derisive chuckle escaping him.
"Certainly, I have no intention of posing as your slave," he retorted, a flash of disdain in his eyes. The very thought seemed to repulse him.
The closer they drew to the village outpost, the more Kessler's dominant authority seemed to settle around him like a cloak. He moved with purpose, every step increasingly revealing his determination. The air around them thrummed with a palpable tension, the weight of their plan pressing down on them.
As they neared their destination, Kessler's gaze swept over Tarzan, a silent acknowledgment of the jungle stud's formidable presence. He couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence in his choice. Together, they would execute a plan that held the potential to change their fates forever.
The village came into view, a cluster of thatched huts and bustling activity. Before they entered its confines, Kessler took charge, his authority now allowed to flow freely.
"Remember, Tarzan, you can either pose as my slave, or we can pretend I am showing you the inner workings of a slave auction," he stated, his voice firm.
Tarzan considered the options, recognizing the weight of their decision. While his mighty muscles pumped, his not-so-mighty mind could come up with no response but to trust Kessler and his more extensive knowledge of the slavers.
"Tarzan follow y-....tarzan follow Master lead," he replied, correcting himself and falling in step with Kessler's plan.
As they stepped into the heart of the village, Kessler's presence commanded attention. The villagers recognized him, their expressions a mix of respect and trepidation. They knew him as a slaver, a man who held power and influence over the lives of many, a man to be feared.
Though they also acknowledged Tarzan, a tinge of deference colored their gazes, a silent acknowledgment of his legendary status. However, this time, it was Kessler's dominating presence that overshadowed all else.
As they moved through the village, snippets of conversation reached their ears.
"Is Kessler recruiting the legendary Tarzan for the auction?" one voice queried, eliciting a ripple of mocking laughter from those nearby.
Kessler's reply was deliberately vague, his sneer disguising his true intent.
"We're exploring new opportunities," he stated, the words carefully chosen.
They arrived at the village square, where the slaves were displayed for potential buyers. Kessler directed Tarzan's attention to the various slaves, his evaluation astute and practiced.
"Look closely, Tarzan. These are the commodities that will soon be up for auction."
He assessed the first five slaves they encountered, pointing out their strengths and potential value.
"This one, for instance, possesses considerable strength, but lacks the discipline for complete obedience. And this one here, while obedient, lacks the breeding potential we seek."
Kessler turned his scrutiny toward tarzan.
"You, on the other hand, offer the full package. Muscle," he said, slapping tarzan's pec and making it dance, "beast-like strength," he said smacking his stone-hard rear, just barely covered by the loincloth, "and surely an unsurpassed stud when it comes to breeding, eh?" he said, lightly smacking tarzan's loincloth and getting a quick feel of the goods hidden beneath it. He smirked at its fullness, knowing he could control take advantage of tarzan's only vulnerability. "And as a man of honor, I think we can count on tarzan's obedience to a Master making good legal purchase of the stock," he said, playfully slapping tarzan's face to emphasize the "suggestion."
Tarzan observed intently, absorbing Kessler's insights. The comparison between himself and the slaves was not lost on him. Each assessment highlighted the unique qualities that set them apart.
The crowd watched, some with knowing glances, others with thoughts unspoken. They recognized Kessler's purpose in schooling Tarzan, and it fueled their anticipation for the approaching auction. The tension in the air was palpable, a prelude to the transformation their lives were about to undergo.
END OF CHAPTER Six -----------------------------------------------
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