Date: Thu, 9 Nov 2023 15:18:18 -0700 From: tarzan Subject: Tarzan and the Dance of Dominance - Chapter 5 Disclaimer: 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. The story is my intellectual property. Copyright 2023 tarzanstud1@gmail.com I always appreciate your feedback and would love to hear your ideas. Please support Nifty with donations of any size to help them provide a platform for so many fascinating stories. Please use this link to donate: http://donate.nifty.org/. Chapter 5: Practice Mades Perfect -------------------------------- The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on the forest floor. Tarzan and Kessler stood at the edge of their makeshift camp, the air tingling with anticipation. Kessler turned to Tarzan, his gaze steady. "Before we proceed, Tarzan, I think it's wise for you to familiarize yourself with the role you might play if circumstances change," he suggested, his tone measured but carrying an air of authority. Tarzan nodded, recognizing the wisdom in Kessler's words. He understood the importance of being prepared for any eventuality. "What Tarzan do?" he asked, a willingness to learn gleaming in his eyes. Kessler's expression shifted slightly, his demeanor becoming more instructive. "First, Tarzan, you must understand the posture of a slave. It is one of submission, of acknowledging one's inferior status," he explained, his words carrying a weight of expectation. Tarzan watched Kessler closely, committing every nuance to memory. He dropped to one knee, the action a symbol of his willingness to heed Kessler's guidance. Kessler's eyes narrowed, his gaze intense. "Not bad, but there is room for improvement," he remarked, his voice firm but not unkind. He proceeded to correct Tarzan's posture, guiding him towards a more refined version of the slave's stance, taking a riding crop out of his belt holster and tapping tarzan's one upraised knee with it to indicate a slave's proper position on both knees before a superior. Kessler nodded with satisfaction as Tarzan complied with his instructions. "Next, you need to get in the habit of calling your betters `Sir' or `Master,'" Kessler instructed. "Play it safe, and assume everyone is your better. And get used to calling me `Master.'" "Master," Tarzan spoke, his voice carrying a mixture of reverence and obedience, as Kessler had instructed. The word felt foreign on his tongue, but he understood its significance. As the morning sun climbed higher in the sky, Tarzan practiced, each correction from Kessler bringing him closer to the embodiment of subservience. The forest echoed with the sounds of their efforts, the rustling leaves bearing witness to the transformation taking place. Kessler nodded in approval, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "You're getting the hang of it, Tarzan. Keep practicing, and remember to address me as Master, or I'll have to correct you before any onlookers," he advised, a subtle undercurrent of command woven into his words. To reinforce his instruction, Kessler snapped off a switch from a sturdy branch, holding it in his hand and whipping it quickly back and forth, making an intimidating whistling sound as he wielded the tangible reminder of Tarzan's commitment to his role. It was a symbol of authority, a tool that Kessler could use if the situation called for it. Tarzan glanced at Kessler, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Shouldn't you practice as well...Master?" he inquired, a hint of mischief dancing in his gaze. Kessler's response was swift and stern, accompanied by a stinging smack of the switch against tarzan's left pec. "I know what I'm doing, Tarzan. I don't require instruction from a savage in a loincloth," he stated, his words carrying an unspoken implication of his own superiority as he used the switch to strike tarzan lightly in his loincloth, making the muscle stud's eyes grow large at the warning shot to his only vulnerability. When Kessler was satisfied with Tarzan's progress, they set out towards the slavers' camp, their mission clear and their roles defined. The forest seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the gravity of the task at hand. Together, they moved forward, their destinies entwined in a dance of deception and purpose. END OF CHAPTER FIVE ----------------------------------------------- Thanks for your emails! This is part of a very long tarzan story with the mighty hero of the jungle experiencing things he never has imagined before. If you have any feedback or input, please contact me at tarzanstud1@gmail.com.