Proximus
Redneck Genius
- Joined
- May 6, 2011
- Posts
- 3,255
OOC: Jack Kramer
38 yrs old, 6'1", 195 lbs. Athletic build. Short black hair. Wearing a light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing a Rolex watch, black dress pants and Italian leather shoes.
Jack Kramer pulled his tinted-window Suburban up to the front of the club. The sign read “Closed for a Private Function.” He snickered quietly to himself. ‘If only the locals knew,’ he thought. As he entered, he was greeted by several familiar faces. He had done this many times before. Walking through the bar area and up to the main stage, his mind reflected on some of the other girls he had trained. They were all now very happily serving other Masters, who, in turn, had been more than willing to pay his fee.
Today would be no different. He would examine the talent that these unscrupulous bastards had assembled and select the next in his line of well-trained submissives. The selection was more of an art than a science, but this was his gift. In the end, it always came down to instincts, and he had learned long ago to trust his gut feelings, as they were seldom wrong.
Jack confidently climbed the steps and began inspecting the girls. The club owners had lowered the stage rigging so that they were displayed in a standing position with their hands cuffed above their heads. They were barefoot and topless, each wearing nothing more than a bikini bottom and a sarong, tied at the hip. He smiled as he walked past the 2 blondes. While slightly amusing, he found that they usually gave in too easily. Jack liked a good challenge. It kept him sharp. The next girl intrigued him for a moment. He had never trained a red-head, and this one was well built for the task. However, as he approached, her eyes were cast down to the floor. There would be no challenge in this one, as it appeared that her will had already been broken.
As his gaze moved down the line to the next girl, he suddenly felt like someone punched him in the stomach. Her dark brown eyes brazenly stared him down, piercing him like daggers. The raven-haired beauty behind them showed no signs of fear, squaring off against his approach. Jack gave her an evil grin as he eyed her tan flesh from head to toe. He reached out and firmly squeezed her left breast, confirming that it was real. “They are quite perky for their size. Impressive,” he remarked almost as if speaking to no one. He stepped around behind her and noticed that she was the only girl who put her hair up in a pony tail. Giving it a gentle tug, he smiled and said, “Oh, I like this.” Yes, she had made his selection for him and she didn’t even know it. He turned to the ring leader and asked, “Does this one speak English?” The man’s eyebrows rose as he replied, “Yes, quite well, in fact.”
He walked briskly down off the stage and shook hands with the man, “I’ll take her.” With that he turned and left the room. Quickly, two men moved over and unlocked her handcuffs and escorted her back stage. A plain blue frock was thrown over her young form, and she was shoved along towards the loading dock. Jack had just finished backing his Suburban in. As he got out, he yelled at the two men, “Do not damage my property. If I find one mark on her, I’ll have your head!” They apologized to him profusely as he opened the back of the truck. They placed her on the floor and shackled both her hands and feet to two large steel rings. He smiled at her in this position, tilting his head to the side. Staring into her eyes once more, he gently caressed her cheek and closed the doors. He climbed back into the truck and took off, blasting an old Van Halen CD as he drove.
38 yrs old, 6'1", 195 lbs. Athletic build. Short black hair. Wearing a light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing a Rolex watch, black dress pants and Italian leather shoes.
Jack Kramer pulled his tinted-window Suburban up to the front of the club. The sign read “Closed for a Private Function.” He snickered quietly to himself. ‘If only the locals knew,’ he thought. As he entered, he was greeted by several familiar faces. He had done this many times before. Walking through the bar area and up to the main stage, his mind reflected on some of the other girls he had trained. They were all now very happily serving other Masters, who, in turn, had been more than willing to pay his fee.
Today would be no different. He would examine the talent that these unscrupulous bastards had assembled and select the next in his line of well-trained submissives. The selection was more of an art than a science, but this was his gift. In the end, it always came down to instincts, and he had learned long ago to trust his gut feelings, as they were seldom wrong.
Jack confidently climbed the steps and began inspecting the girls. The club owners had lowered the stage rigging so that they were displayed in a standing position with their hands cuffed above their heads. They were barefoot and topless, each wearing nothing more than a bikini bottom and a sarong, tied at the hip. He smiled as he walked past the 2 blondes. While slightly amusing, he found that they usually gave in too easily. Jack liked a good challenge. It kept him sharp. The next girl intrigued him for a moment. He had never trained a red-head, and this one was well built for the task. However, as he approached, her eyes were cast down to the floor. There would be no challenge in this one, as it appeared that her will had already been broken.
As his gaze moved down the line to the next girl, he suddenly felt like someone punched him in the stomach. Her dark brown eyes brazenly stared him down, piercing him like daggers. The raven-haired beauty behind them showed no signs of fear, squaring off against his approach. Jack gave her an evil grin as he eyed her tan flesh from head to toe. He reached out and firmly squeezed her left breast, confirming that it was real. “They are quite perky for their size. Impressive,” he remarked almost as if speaking to no one. He stepped around behind her and noticed that she was the only girl who put her hair up in a pony tail. Giving it a gentle tug, he smiled and said, “Oh, I like this.” Yes, she had made his selection for him and she didn’t even know it. He turned to the ring leader and asked, “Does this one speak English?” The man’s eyebrows rose as he replied, “Yes, quite well, in fact.”
He walked briskly down off the stage and shook hands with the man, “I’ll take her.” With that he turned and left the room. Quickly, two men moved over and unlocked her handcuffs and escorted her back stage. A plain blue frock was thrown over her young form, and she was shoved along towards the loading dock. Jack had just finished backing his Suburban in. As he got out, he yelled at the two men, “Do not damage my property. If I find one mark on her, I’ll have your head!” They apologized to him profusely as he opened the back of the truck. They placed her on the floor and shackled both her hands and feet to two large steel rings. He smiled at her in this position, tilting his head to the side. Staring into her eyes once more, he gently caressed her cheek and closed the doors. He climbed back into the truck and took off, blasting an old Van Halen CD as he drove.
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