James continues, walking out of the bar and towards the airlocks, Mr. Morningstar closely behind.
“We’ll board, and head straight to my conference hall. I’m sure you’ll want to get right down to business.” James opens the inner airlock doors. Walking down the tunnel towards James’ ship, he pulls a keycard out of his pocket and presses the button on the wall, opening the outer airlock doors. James reaches out and swipes the keycard through a slot on the Zebrina’s hull. The outer doors of Zebrina’s airlock opens, the brown metal creaks and wails as the doors slides out of the way.
“I’ll need to have someone look at that.” James mutters under his breath, swiping the keycard through another slot inside the ship’s airlock, closing the outer doors and opening the inner. Two of James’ guards stand at attention on either side of the doors, holding Needler rifles. "Hail, Master!" Both guards shout in unison as James and his companion walk into the main hall. The hall comes to a T-junction. James stops and sighs. “It’s good to be home.” Signs are painted on the wall; faded yellow arrows with white lettering read ‘Bridge’ and ‘Conference Hall’. James turns right, following the conference hall sign.
Their footwear clanks on the metal floor panels as they traverse the hallway. They approach large double doors on their left side. Another sign painted on the wall reads ‘Living Areas’ with the smaller words ‘Mess Hall, Staff Lounge, Crew Quarters’ underneath. Pressing a button on the wall panel, the doors slide open with a drawn out groan. Two more guards on either side, identical to the guards before, are standing at attention. “Hail, Master!” James waves his hand. “At ease.” Before them sits a table of bronze colored metal. Large and long, the table seems built into the floor. Atop the table is a pile of packages; clear plastic wrappings take the form of orange pillows in the shape of a pyramid.
“I’m sure you know what this is.” He stands on the right side of the room and places his hands on the edge of the table. Leaning against the table, he turns and places the small of his back against it, crossing his arms. He looks to the two guards. “Bring in the good stuff. It’s stashed in lockup, down corridor C.” The guards stomp their boots together; acknowledging their orders, they turn and walk out without saying a word. Chuckling to himself, James looks at Mr. Morningstar. “I love it when they do that. Care for a drink?”
James turns and walks to a corner where a wooden roll-top desk, very similar in color to the wall panels, sits alone. Lifting the top and pushing it in, he reveals the desk is being used as a small bar. Crystal decanters line the desk’s main shelf with custom wooden slots built in to hold them in place; red velvet lining protects the decanters from scratches. Grabbing a decanter labeled ‘Scotch’, James retrieves a glass from an upper shelf of the desk and pours a generous portion. “You can drink the same thing as me if you’d like, in case you are worried about poisons.” James gives a sly grin, before laughing aloud.
He sets out a second, empty class for Mr. Morningstar as the doors suddenly open. The guards walk in with women in chains. Six of them, all young and of every race, wearing shiny, solid colored, gold or silver bikini outfits. The girls, shivering, whimper lightly with ball gags in their mouths. James looks over at the women, and then back to Mr. Morningstar, “That’s… Uh… To keep them quiet, while you… “Examine” them. We don’t want them to ruin your concentration.” He takes a drink from his glass of Scotch as he reaches out and passes two fingers gently across a slave girl’s chest as she cringes.
“These items are all technically of legal age, but if you prefer, we have women of just as high a quality with more… Experience? With age comes wisdom, eh? Or if you like them less than legal, we can get you that too. Nothing quite like the naïveté of youth.” Turning, James walks to the end of the conference room and presses a hidden button on the wall panel, opening a secret door at the far end of the room. As the door slides open, a dim golden light streams in. “This hall will take you to a small chamber. I’ve found it’s only use is for “testing” the quality of merchandise and the bed is big enough for three or more.” James brings the drink to his lips. “Any samples that you wish to try out?” He takes a drink, watching to see Mr. Morningstar’s reaction.
User was banned for: Roleplaying Child Sex Slave operations
Time left: (Permanent)