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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 7: Center Stage -------------------------------- (c) tarzanstud1@gmail.com
The slaves were displayed before them, bound and awaiting the auctioneer's gavel. Kessler turned his discerning eye toward the first one, a burly man with rippling muscles, hardened by years of labor. Kessler assessed him with a critical eye.
"This one possesses considerable strength," he remarked, "but lacks the discipline for complete obedience." He then glanced at Tarzan, who was watching attentively. "You, Tarzan, have always demonstrated exceptional strength and skill. However, your discipline in servitude remains to be seen."
Tarzan nodded, understanding the implications of Kessler's words.
"Is true," he replied, the term 'Master' not yet instinctual for him.
Kessler, seizing the opportunity, employed the switch with swift precision, eliciting a sharp gasp from Tarzan. The crowd responded with a mixture of amusement and approval. With Kessler's switch struck Tarzan's thigh, leaving a faint red mark. Kessler's lips curled into a satisfied smirk.
"Remember your place, tarzan," he said with a measured tone.
Moving to the next slave, Kessler continued his evaluation.
"This one here is obedient, unquestioningly so. However, his breeding potential is limited," he noted, sparing a glance toward Tarzan. "In your case, Tarzan, your lineage is that of a noble jungle lord. Your potential offspring would carry that same legacy."
Tarzan acknowledged Kessler's words with a thoughtful expression.
"Tarzan no know line so important," he admitted, once again failing to address Kessler with the title of Master. He hadn't even finished the sentence when Kessler's switch struck his thigh again.
The crowd's delight grew, their anticipation building. Kessler's comparisons now began to include the spectators, drawing them into the evaluation.
"Do you see, my friends?" he asked, sweeping his arm toward Tarzan and the slave. "The bravery of this one may surpass Tarzan's legendary courage."
Moving to the third slave, Kessler's tone shifted.
Kessler didn't hesitate, the switch falling with precision. This time, there was a hint of resignation in Tarzan's eyes, coupled with a growing awareness of the role he was meant to play.
As Kessler moved on to the next slave, his comparisons grew more pointed, each assessment tailored to highlight the strengths and weaknesses of both the slaves and Tarzan. He noted their bravery, their endurance, their beauty, all the while contrasting them with Tarzan's own attributes.
Once again, Kessler's switch intervened, striking Tarzan's thigh. The crowd had become fully engaged, participating in the spectacle. They listened eagerly as Kessler addressed them directly.
"So, my esteemed friends, I ask you this: Does Tarzan truly belong on the auction block?"
Several voices in the crowd responded, each offering their perspective.
"Yes, he should be auctioned!"
"He's no different from the others!"
"We want to see Tarzan on that block!" Kessler's plan was unfolding seamlessly, his comparisons and crowd involvement all leading toward the climactic moment of the auction.
The crowd's fervent agreement reverberated through the village square, their anticipation palpable. Kessler's eyebrows arched in approval, a silent acknowledgment that the plan was moving forward seamlessly. With a subtle wink, he signaled to Tarzan that it was time to set their scheme in motion.
For a moment, Tarzan had been uncertain about Kessler's intentions, but the wink reassured him. He watched Kessler's confident stride and felt a newfound surge of courage welling within him. It was clear that Kessler's presence commanded respect, and Tarzan was ready to play his part.
Kessler turned to the eager crowd, his voice carrying effortlessly. "Wouldn't you all like a closer look at this specimen?" His question elicited an enthusiastic chorus of agreement.
"Up on the stage, Tarzan," Kessler commanded, using the switch to encourage him. Tarzan complied, managing to remember to address Kessler as Master just in time, avoiding the sting of the switch.
"Good boy," Kessler praised, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips. The amused crowd responded with a mixture of cheers and jeers.
"Now, Tarzan, show them your strength," Kessler directed, using the switch to tap Tarzan's biceps. Tarzan flexed his muscles, the crowd responding with a mix of awe and amusement.
As Kessler continued to dictate Tarzan's poses, he praised the jungle hero's strength and power. It was time, he decided, to showcase Tarzan's obedience.
Turning to face Tarzan, Kessler locked eyes with him. Initially, there was a shared understanding of their secret plan, but gradually, Kessler's gaze took on a steely intensity. He used that commanding presence to compel Tarzan, and as the jungle hero obediently sank to his knees, the crowd erupted in cheers.
Kessler turned back to face the spectators, his chest puffed out with pride. Here, before them all, was the mighty Tarzan, brought to heel by Kessler's dominant authority. The plan was working perfectly.
END OF CHAPTER Seven -----------------------------------------------
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