Welcome to the block!
Craft a scene/chapter/story with the following opening.
A siren on the street far below cut through the lull in the conversation.
Printable View
Welcome to the block!
Craft a scene/chapter/story with the following opening.
A siren on the street far below cut through the lull in the conversation.
thanks Muse :D
A siren on the street far below cut through the lull in the conversation.
"Bugger it! Now what!" thought Harald, walking to the window, peering down to the street far below as a squad car pulled up in front of the building. He shrugged, turned back to his six guests, seated at ease around the room, though still eyeing each other somewhat distrustfully. He shook himself mentally, this weekend was not going according to Hoyle, and he was not in the least amused.
Harald sat, then reached for the little silver bell as the security buzzer from the lobby sounded. He rang the bell, and gestured to the young woman who entered the room and fell into a deep curtsey in answer to see to the buzzer. The men watched her lithe, naked, leggy dancer's form with open lust. "Time to separate the sheep from the goats." he thought, hoping the sound of his private elevator meant what he thought it did. He chuckled mentally, thinking of the shearing that was to come, eyeing the six in speculation. "Well, gentlemen, shall we get down to business?" he said. "As you are aware, I have stringent methods to determine your fitness for what you seek."
His guests shuffled in their chairs in expectation, eyes riveted to Harald's tight smile, then turned to face the library door as a shriek and crash sounded from the entry foyer. Some of the men leaped to their feet in consternation, but Harald's growled "Sit" settled them again, though several of the men looked decidedly uneasy. The library door crashed open, startling the men again, as four burly police officers crashed into the room, guns drawn, pushing the naked girl before them. Harald flicked his fingers in dismissal, and with another curtsey, the pretty girl eased past the cops, pausing briefly to allow the Sergeant leading the small squad to slide his hand over her pussy. "At last," Harald thought, " Palin and his men are here, late, and the scene is not as ordered. He and I will discuss that, and his familiarity with my staff, later. Hmmm, but this has promise" He stood, as 'Sergeant' Palin barked a terse "On your feet, turds, this is a raid."
Palin gestured in Harald's direction, addressing one of his me. "Take that one outside. He's the ringleader, we'll deal with him separately." Harald was amused to see the man Palin had detailed to him wore a patch declaring he was called "LaRue". With his back to his guests, as "LaRue" led him in the direction of the elevator, Harald allowed himself a small smile as he read the name-tags of the other men, "Signal" and "Striker". "Trust Palin to drop subtle hints" he thought with a touch of mental laughter, "names related to whips. I wonder if any of the sheep have wit enough to puzzle at the 'coincidence' of names."
As he closed the library door, shutting off sight of the men still in the room, LaRue's touch became more deferential, and Harald and La Rue turned aside from the elevator, opening a concealed door, entering a room full of audio-visual monitoring equipment. LaRue strode to the credenza at the back of the room, and poured a single cup of coffee as Harald settled into the swivel chair before the banked equipment. He placed the cup beside Harald's hand and stepped back.
When the door had closed on Harald and LaRue, Palin strode to the seated men "I told you turds to assume the position." he barked again to the six men riveted to their chairs in shock. Palin turned to the nearest man, seized a handful of shirt front and threw him to the floor. The man's head hit the parquet with a dull thud. Two of the seated men stood with measured dignity, hands behind their heads. The remaining men had thrown themselves to the floor, cringing in shock beside the man already lying there. "Hmm," thought Palin, eying the two standing men, a haughty, white-haired man and one who looked like a young mirror image "Father and son? Looks like." The two standing men eyed Palin coolly in return. Palin gestured to the men cringing on the floor "Cuff 'em, Signal" he growled.
Signal stepped forward with a smirk, pulling black cable ties from the pocket of his kevlar jacket, and bent over the prone men, one by one, pulling their arms roughly behind their backs, slipping a looped cable tie over each pair of wrists, drawing it tight with a grunt. Meanwhile, Striker moved to the two standing men, positioned their hands behind their backs and cuffed them with cable ties as well. Signal stood, and with a glance in Palin's direction, kicked the last man in line in the ribs as he said "What now Sarge?"
"Separate them." Palin said coldly. Striker grasped the elbows of the standing men and pushed them in the direction of the door into the foyer as Signal and Palin yanked the remaining men to their feet by the collars of their expensive suit jackets. Palin gave each man a shove in the direction of a plain door opposite the foyer entrance, smirking as they staggered. Signal opened the door, ushering the men roughly into a service corridor, and down it to a dingy utility room at the end. He ordered them to sit, legs outstretched and quickly cuffed each man's left ankle to his neighbour's right. "Just so you don't get any ideas, shit-holes!" he said softly, spitting between the legs of the man on the left. The man looked at the sputum on the floor, almost at his crotch, with disgust and a little fear. He jerked in response as Palin stepped into the doorway, and barked at terse "Watch these shits" to his remaining man, then closed the door behind him.
In the AV monitoring room, Harald leaned back in his chair and picked up his cup to sip his coffee as he turned to LaRue. "You were late." he said, flatly, then turned to adjust the volume on the utility room pickup. "Who'd have thought those four would be sheep" Signal mused, focussing his attention on the video pickup. Harald looked at him "And that, dear boy, is why you are a goon and not a Dom." he said with a touch of scorn mingled wit pride in his tone.
LaRue smiled "Am I a good goon?" he asked. "One of the best, according to Palin." Harald replied, turning his attention back to the sights and sounds coming from the utility room. Harald turned up the volume again, checking the recording status on his monitoring equipment. "Trump is such a pussy." LaRue observed quiet, going silent immediately when he saw the flash of irritation Harald directed in his direction. The Donald's voice whined out of the speakers, Harald grimaced at the tone coming from the speakers
"...know who I am?" the whining sputtered, "I'll have our jobs for this, the Chief is a personal friend of mine." Two of the others joined The Donald in whining and complaining, offering Signal increasingly large amounts of money to cut them loose and let them go. The fourth man, still a little sunned from being thrown to the floor, shook his head and sidled away from his neighbour until brought up short by his tethered ankle. He caught Signal's eye, noted his name tag "Cut me loose, Signal" he said calmly, "I do not wish to be associated with these cattle." Harald leaned forward in his chair, keying Signal's command frequency "Do it." he said. Signal cocked his head in recognition of the order, cut the ankle tie connecting the man to the other three. "Drag him to the Green Room." Harald ordered, and Signal grasped the man's lapels and hauled him to his feet. Signal nodded slightly in acknowledgement of the order and frog-marched he man from the utility room. He paused in the door way to turn and address the three remaining men "I'll be back" he barked with a smirk, as he closed he door.
The Donald's voice rose in volume and shrillness "Hey, what about me, cut me loose!" he shouted. Only silence answered as the men called out in growing frustration and fear.
Signal led his prisoner into a small, green room. "Sit" he snarled. The man looked at him with detachment and settled coolly onto the hard wooden chair - the only furniture in the room. Harald settled back into his chair, taking another sip of his coffee, then turned to LaRue "Watch and learn, goon." he said in a friendly manner, checking he recordings of the interrogations Palin was now conducting in turn with the three men who had retained a cool front through the abuse. From time to time he nodded at the answers the men gave, jotting cryptic notes to himself on a legal pad with three columns, headed "Ford", "Houson" and "Frankelli". As the morning wore on, Harald let his attention wander to the three men in the utility room. Their voices were coarsened now from their futile shouting for attention. He tore off his first list, put it to one side and started another. Three more columns, headed "The Donald", "Hillaryman" and "Stupid". More cryptic notes filled those columns. Satisfied at last, Harald keyed Palin's command frequency "Take the three interogees back to the library " he ordered, then stood to stretch the tension from his back. He stood and watched as Palin led each of the three men, separately, into the library, before turning to the door of the monitor room. LaRue jumped forward to open the door for him and Harald stepped into the foyer. Gently he placed his hand on the naked blond girl kneeling to the right of the doorway. "Sweets," he said fondly, fetch Carmen and the Allisons to me. The girl smiled up at him, eyes shining, "At once, Sir" she replied, jumping to her feet. She ran t the stairway, bounding up the stairs, her light chains twinkling against her pale naked skin.
Harald watched her go, admiring her lithe form and energy, then turned to the elegant brunette kneeling on the other side of the doorway, reaching down to grasp the chain at her collar, tugging upwards slightly. She rose gracefully to her feet, Harald leaned forward o kiss her lightly on the lips, patting her gently on her pubic mound. "Fetch coffee for four to the library, dear one." he said softly. "At once, Master" she replied, turning slightly so Harald could stroke her clitoris lightly for a moment before patting her bottom in dismissal. Elegant in her ballet boots, she minced across the foyer, turning down the corridor leading to the kitchen. With a gesture to LaRue to precede him, Harald trend to the library doors, LaRue opened them deferentially, and Harald strode into the room, seating himself in his chair, facing he three cuffed men standing waiting for him.
Harald made a gesture to Palin, and Palin cut the cuffs binding the three men. Palin stepped back in front of the three men, bowed slightly, and in deference to them and gestured to the waiting chairs. "Please be seated gentlemen" he said, then moved to stand behind Harald's chair. Harald smiled at the three seated men, all rubbing their wrists as circulation returned. "I warned you my selection criteria were stringent and unforgiving" Harald said quietly into the silence, pausing as the brunette entered the room. At his gesture she served the three men first, offering coffee and sweet pastries to each in turn, before kneeling before Harald and lifting the tray to him. "Some interview" the younger Ford snorted, a hint of anger in his voice snorted. A gesture from white-haired Frankelli silenced him, as the foyer door opened, and the pretty blonde led three magnificent and naked women into the room on leashes. She led them to Harald, knelt and offered the leashes to him as the collared and leashed girls knelt with their foreheads on the floor. Harald stood, and opened the small library case beside his chair, drawing out three glittering steel collars. He handed the collars to the blonde, who sidled behind him on her knees as he stepped towards the three leashed girls. "Carmen," he said, stopping before a proud red-head. She bowed, and Harald unlocked the collar around her neck, letting it drop to the floor before her. "Your time with me is over. The next phase of your life begins now. Serve your Master well and be a credit to your training. Come back to me when your contract ends in five years." He took a steel collar from the blond and handed it to Carmen." Carmen rose and let her eyes follow the direction of Harald's gesture. She turned to face Houson, the collar held in both hands, but made no move towards him.
Harald turned to the next girl, a striking, high breasted blond "Pretty Allison, " he said, as she bent to let him unlock her collar. It dropped to the floor by her knees. "Your time with me is over. The next phase of your life begins now. Serve your Master well and be a credit to your training. Come back to me when your contract ends in five years." He took a steel collar from the blond and handed it to Allison." Allison rose and let her eyes follow the direction of Harald's gesture. She turned to face Frankelli, a smile touching her lips, the collar held in both hands, but made no move towards him.
"And last, you I will miss most of all, Allison, for you are truly the one who has taken to slaver whole-heartedly." he said, bending to kiss her upturned lips before unlocking her collar, catching it as it began to fall. "Your time with me is over. The next phase of your life begins now. Serve your Master well and be a credit to your training. Come back to me when your contract ends in five years, and enter my service then." He took a steel collar from the blond and handed it to Allison." Allison rose and let her eyes follow the direction of Harald's gesture. She turned to face Ford, after smiling once at Harald, the collar held in both hands, but made no move towards him.
Harald stepped back, gave the collar he was holding to the waiting blond, who placed it in the cabinet, before gathering up the two remaining collars and leaving the room. Harald rolled his shoulders once. "Greet your Master, girls." he said softly. The three stepped forward, each to her indicated owner, knelt and lifted the glittering steel to the man before her.
"Many want the my girls, and think money will buy them what they seek, but not all deserve them." Harald said softly. "You have the strength of spirit and detachment my girls deserve. Use them well, they are jewels of great price." As each man bent to attach the steel to his designated girl, Harald walked forward, squeezed each girl lightly on the shoulder, bent and whispered to each in turn "Serve well and with pride, and come home again when you are released."
He stood back, watching fondly as each girl followed her new Master from the room. "Now," he thought quietly, "to deal with those miserable failures."
Just to let you know i've seen this and will get to it first thing in the morning.
Smooches,
rose
Wow! Well done Whippett! I loved the sense of mystery you created at the beginning and kept going till almost the very end.
It was a great read, and I can't wait to read more!
AG
Wow! Well done Whippett! I loved the sense of mystery you created at the beginning and kept going till almost the very end.
It was a great read, and I can't wait to read more!
AG
It should be noted, Whippett, that I am not known for being friendly, cuddly or remotely thoughtful of any author's feelings. You will see, as you go through the levels, that I am entirely harsh, brutal, cruel and unpleasant. However, I am gonna be nice, for a change. That means, I will let the grammar Nazis do their thing and only make a couple of minor points.
"Bugger it! Now what!" thought Harald, walking to the window, peering down to the street far below as a squad car pulled up in front of the building. He shrugged, turned back to his six guests, seated at ease around the room, though still eyeing each other somewhat distrustfully. He shook himself mentally, this weekend was not going according to Hoyle, and he was not in the least amused.
Wow, looks like you really fell in love with commas, don't like periods and aren't overly happy with...
<singing> Conjunction Junction, what's your function?
Hooking up two boxcars and making 'em run right.
Milk and honey, bread and butter, peas and rice.
Hey that's nice!
Dirty but happy, digging and scratching,
Losing your shoe and a button or two.
He's poor but honest, sad but true,
Boo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Harald sat, then reached for the little silver bell as the security buzzer from the lobby sounded. He rang the bell, and gestured to the young woman who entered the room and fell into a deep curtsey in answer to see to the buzzer. The men watched her lithe, naked, leggy dancer's form with open lust. "Time to separate the sheep from the goats." he thought, hoping the sound of his private elevator meant what he thought it did. He chuckled mentally, thinking of the shearing that was to come, eyeing the six in speculation. "Well, gentlemen, shall we get down to business?" he said. "As you are aware, I have stringent methods to determine your fitness for what you seek."
When you use a conjunction to connect two ideas you can do without commas, unless it is an aside. I know someone here will explain it better than I.
Also, when someone speaks it goes sorta like this:
"Get your tongue outa my mouth," she complained to the man inhaling her tonsils.
Please note that there is a comma at the end of the spoken or thought words. It is followed by the end-quote and then the "she said".
I will get to hammering on style points when you move further up in Block Ladder. Hell, I might even kick the ladder out. I am that mean. Heh - I said "might". That is such a lie. I will kick it out.
Hmm, where is my nail gun?
Not to pop your balloon, Dean, but it depends on whether you follow the Oxford or Cambridge grammar style. Both are correct, and both have serious and legitimate followings. I happen to follow the Cambridge rules. While "and" is indeed one of the conjunctions, the only legitimate times to leave out the comma before "and" are: when the two items are part of a nominative pair, such as "peas and carrots" or when a list of alternates are presented (though the Oxford style requires a comma prior to the an joining the last clause to the list of alternates. The use of comma before "and" when dealing with separate actions is actually correct, though I understand that the rules of grammar (as epitomized by the Microsoft rules of grammar) suggest Americans have a third convention in this regard. As with American ideomatic spelling, it is not something I care to follow since I am not (thank whatever diety you choose to address) and American. Well, I am an American, being Canadian, but since Usians have stolen the term "American" and claim it as their own I will concede that I am decidedly not American, and will not follow American rules of spelling or grammar.
I do understand that Americans have grammar rules, however, they are not the rules of English as I know it and love it* **. Yes I make mistakes, especially when dealing with things on-screen. I also find it difficult to proof my own work since I get bogged down in meaning rather than syntax and grammar in my own work. I do accept correction - but lets be clear about which rules of grammar are being criticized. I no longer use full English spelling, though for the longest time I did, since that was required of me. However, I do use the Cambridge rules of grammar and follow then automatically.
Elipses (the ...) strike me as a casual affectation, and, unless I have access to a word processor which allows for the proper use of he en and em bar, prefer not to use a "-" in my writing***. I am here precisely to hone my skill. Of course my sentences are too long. If I wrote tightly I would not be here, nor would I need to be.
All of which is to say - be as harsh as you care to be Dean - crticism is always useful. However, I will reject criticism that is based solely on American rules of grammar or spelling - (em bar, of course) since they are an abomination unto the eyes of the Lord and and a curse unto His ears, and, being a devout follower of a Jesuit education, I reject that kind of perversion (rotflmao).
*as an aside, the Oxford convention would be ; however, in the above sentence
** I am told that Americans speak and write English. I would take exception to that, or, if it is the case that English is used, would suggest a proper dictionary (the Unabridged OED springs to mind)
*** the en bar is properly used in numbers, the em bar is used in grammar. Thus, 1980-1989 requires the en bar, while the phrase - meaningless to some - uses the em bar twice, once before and once after the aside. The use of the minus sign the "-" properly only is used in depicting negative numbers of a subtraction.
I am not familiar with this "Cambridge" of which you speak and I suspect it is some sort of Newfie plot to rid the world of proper grammatical rules (American - read USA). This is not to say that I do not respect Canadians, they are good neighbors, despite suffering from a looney tune mentality when it comes to money.
I must admit to being completely confused when you speak of an em or an en bar. Is that some sort of chocolate candy we don't have down here in the states? I never know what you Canadians are talking aboot.
I should tell you that you made me laugh. In fact, I read your response three times to make certain I missed none of the humor. You strike me well and, I suspect, we will get on nicely. Just the same, I will be watching you like I watch all the other Newfies...er, newbies.
Dear Whippett,Quote:
Originally Posted by Whippett
Yes many a true (American) English speaker realizes that the mother tongue has been debased across the pond. Whilst it is well known the, so called, "English" can not tell a z from an s, can not spell tire correctly, and have difficulty telling a car hood from a ladies cap, we still live in hope for your salvation.
Seriously though, the object of all those grammar rules, proper spellings, and writing styles, are to make your meaning clear as you tell your tale. Some would claim since the bulk of your readers are American you should humor them at the expense of your native dialect. I'm not such a purist. I would simply hope for consistency.
No one I know can properly proof read their own work since you tend to read what you meant to write rather than what is actually etched in photons. If you find the colonist to damn conflicted you might consider a more local source for proofing. These hallowed halls can still offer some tips on inspiration, style, plotting, point of view etc. Hopefully that can be of use to you.
Now to read the assignment.
Yours
Mad Lews
Grin, No problems Mad and H. Just pointing out that he abomination of grammar known to the world as "American English" is not my native tongue (come on - how can anyone take seriously a country that can't even spell its favourite food - its doughnut - not donut: neughbour not neighbor and night not nite to cite just three examples).
As to pandering to American grammatical rules? Hmmmmm - do you guys translate Dickens, Hardy, Delderfield and the like to American from the correct and beautiful English in which they were written. Next you'll be telling me you don't read Dostoyevski, Lou Tsu or Neruda in the original. ROTFLMAO.
I can just see the American Translation of "A Tale of Two Cities"
The beautiful, flowing "It was the best of days, it was the worst of days..." with which that book opens would likely be translated to
It was day. Her tits are huge. "Fuck, I'm drunk" he groaned.
However, in the interests of international harmony, I will seriously contemplate having my work translated into American if English is too difficult for the majority of readers. Could you suggest a reputable firm of translators?
I would, however, appreciate a lexicon - I'd hate to confuse you totally by using words you misuse - 'How I loved all the American chicklets in London who blithely talked about their fanny packs in crowded bars' - a constant source of amusement since they had the same clue as the proverbial blonde when it came to understading the mirth of those around them.
I have heard of some fairly reputable (if simplistic) styles of grammer, Strunk and White for example. If that is the preferred style of the folk here, then I'll dig out my copy and review it.
Oh, and Dean, may I suggest a good picture book for you - called an Atlas. It has pictures that are not confined to 48 conjoned pieces of land provinvially referred to as "states" and show that Alaska is actualy not an island at all, but a peninsula. If you choose something that does not have the words "Rand McNally" on the cover, you might actualy discover that that body of water on the right side of the page is not a river, but an Ocean called "The Atlantic, and there are places on the other side of it. One of those places is sometimes referred to as 'The United Kingdom". There are two rival towns there - one is Oxford, one is Cambridge - the original Cambridge, not the pale imitation found in the Boston area. The original Cambridge has a real university as well (unlike the imitation in the US which has a glorified high school with pretensions of grandeur).
Ah well, as literate folk often say, plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose - or - in Russian - ti shto mumu yebyosh.... rotflmao
Dearest Whippett,
It is sad to hear that your public colleges have rival gangs of grammar thugs wandering the streets terrorizing young writers. As we Americans say, "The more things change the more they stay the same". The white skunk book is an excelent source if only for anthropological reasons.
As you can see just a few nits to pick, overall a great little scene played out well and leaving us hoping to hear what happens to the three stooges. A personal aside I do so hate it when a proper (or improper) person is addressed as "The" something, I know it's acceptable but "The Comb Over" just makes me grit my teeth, putting it in quotes seems to help a little.Quote:
Originally Posted by Whippett
Now toward the end as he's handing out the party favors your main character repeats the same speech three times. Well and good but it gets predictable. While you can't avoid that you can use the opportunity to flesh out some characterization, vary the speech and tone in noticeable ways to reflect his feelings toward these three pupils. You did that for the last to some extent but I'd suggest you elaborate a bit with all three.
Excellent first assignment I'd say, but I'm only the peanut gallery.
yours
Mad Lews
Quote:
Originally Posted by Whippett
Actually this classic was translated in the comic book Sgt. Fury and the Howling Commandos # 37 , way back in '68 I believe it opened with the sentence
"Another *!#*&*! Snafu." (at the time fucking, and even efing were not appropriate in comic books so a more modern translation might actually be "another fucking snafu")
snafu loosely translates to "Situation normal all fucked up."
No ethanol was involved but we're not sure what was inside the cigar.
just for your edification,
Mad
Thanks for your comments Mad - they are greatly appreciated (as were Deen's).
Since you are into anthropology (at least with reference to skunk and white) , perhaps you can answer a question that has plagued me for years? You Yanks have an inedible almost confection that is a pale imitation of Smarties - I believe you call them M&Ms - however, for a barely chocolate confection (?) with an inedible plastic outer coating, would it not be more in keeping with your advertising ethics to call them S&Ms? After all, only a sadist could design something like that and call it "candy" - and only a masochist could actually eat one (lol).
And Deen - an en bar is indeed chocolate - it contains peanuts. An em-bar is bittersweet chocolate and almonds. Unlike the contiguous 48, however, the word chocolate refers to a product with a high cacao-butter content, unlike that brown pseudo-chocolate made by Mr Hershey in a back alley somewhere - lol.
Things have gotten hairy here today. It may be Monday before i get to this assignment. But do carry on with the debate.
I'm not sure if this is kosher or not - but taking what H Dean and Mad Lew said - here's a revision:
_________________________________________________
A siren on the street far below cut through the lull in the conversation.
"Bugger it! Now what!" Harald thought unamused, as he watched a squad car pull up in front of the building. He shook himself mentally, this weekend was not going according to Hoyle. He was not in the least amused. Shrugging, he looked his six guests, who still eyed each other distrustfully.
Harald sat, reaching for the little silver bell as the security buzzer from the lobby sounded. He rang the bell. A naked young woman entered the room at the sound, and fell into a deep curtsy in answer to his summons. Harald gestured for her to answer the buzzer. She rose with grace, turning to leave. The men watched her lithe, leggy form with open lust. "Time to separate the sheep from the goats." he thought, hoping the sound of his private elevator meant what he thought it did. He chuckled mentally, thinking of the shearing that was to come, eying the six in speculation.
"Well, gentlemen, shall we get down to business?" he said. "As you are aware, I have stringent methods to determine your fitness for what you seek."
His guests shuffled in their chairs in expectation, eyes riveted to Harald's tight smile, then turned to face the library door as a shriek and crash sounded from the entry foyer. Some of the men leaped to their feet in consternation, but Harald's growled "Sit" settled them again, though several of the men looked decidedly uneasy. The library door crashed open, startling the men again. Four burly police officers crashed into the room, guns drawn, pushing the naked girl before them. Harald flicked his fingers in dismissal, and with another curtsy, the pretty girl eased past the cops, pausing briefly to allow the Sergeant leading the small squad to slide his hand over her pussy. "At last," Harald thought, "Palin and his men are here. Late, and not running the scene I ordered. He and I will discuss that, later." he mused, "There's also his familiarity with my staff. Hmmm, but this has promise." He stood as 'Sergeant' Palin barked a terse "On your feet, turds, this is a raid."
Palin gestured in Harald's direction, addressing one of his men. "Take that one outside. He's the ringleader, we'll deal with him separately."
Harald was amused to see the man Palin had detailed to him wore a patch declaring he was called "LaRue". With his back to his guests, Harald allowed himself a small smile as he read the name-tags of the other men, "Signal" and "Striker". "Trust Palin to drop subtle hints" he thought with a touch of mental laughter, "names related to whips. I wonder if any of the sheep have wit enough to puzzle at the 'coincidence' of names."
As he closed the library door, shutting off sight of the men still in the room, LaRue's touch became more deferential, and Harald and La Rue turned aside from the elevator, opening a concealed door, entering a room full of audio-visual monitoring equipment. LaRue strode to the credenza at the back of the room, and poured a single cup of coffee as Harald settled into the swivel chair before the banked equipment. He placed the cup beside Harald's hand and stepped back.
When the door had closed on Harald and LaRue, Palin strode to the seated men.
"I told you turds to assume the position." he barked again to the six men riveted to their chairs in shock.
Palin turned to the nearest man, seized a handful of shirt front and threw him to the floor. The man's head hit the parquet with a dull thud. Two of the seated men stood with measured dignity, hands behind their heads. The remaining men had thrown themselves to the floor, cringing in shock beside the man already lying there. "Hmm," thought Palin, eying the two standing men, a haughty, white-haired man and one who looked like a young mirror image "Father and son? Looks like." The two standing men eyed Palin coolly in return. Palin gestured to the men cringing on the floor.
"Cuff 'em, Signal" he growled.
Signal stepped forward with a smirk, pulling black cable ties from the pocket of his kevlar jacket, and bent over the prone men. One by one he pulled their arms roughly behind their backs. He slipped a looped cable tie over each pair of wrists, drawing it tight with a grunt. Meanwhile, Striker moved to the two standing men, positioned their hands behind their backs, and cuffed them with cable ties as well. Signal stood, glanced in Palin's direction, and kicked the last man in line in the ribs.
"What now Sarge?" Signal asked.
"Separate them." Palin said coldly.
Striker grasped the elbows of the standing men and pushed them in the direction of the door into the foyer as Signal and Palin yanked the remaining men to their feet by the collars of their expensive suit jackets. Palin gave each man a shove in the direction of a plain door opposite the foyer entrance, smirking as they staggered. Signal opened the door, ushering the men roughly into a service corridor. The men were hustled down it to a dingy utility room at the end. He ordered them to sit, legs outstretched and quickly cuffed each man's left ankle to his neighbour's right.
"Just so you don't get any ideas, shit-holes!" Signal said softly, spitting between the legs of the man on the left.
The man looked at the sputum on the floor, almost at his crotch, with disgust and a little fear. He jerked in response as Palin stepped into the doorway, and barked at terse "Watch these shits" to his remaining man, then closed the door behind him.
In the AV monitoring room, Harald leaned back in his chair and picked up his cup to sip his coffee as he turned to LaRue.
"You were late." Harald said, flatly.
He turned to adjust the volume on the utility room pickup.
"Who'd have thought those four would be sheep" Signal mused, focusing his attention on the video pickup.
Harald looked at him "And that, dear boy, is why you are a goon and not a Dom." he said with a touch of scorn mingled with pride in his tone.
LaRue smiled "Am I a good goon?" he asked.
"One of the best, according to Palin." Harald replied.
He focused his attention back to the sights and sounds coming from the utility room. Harald turned up the volume again, checking the recording status on his monitoring equipment. "Trump is such a pussy." LaRue observed quietly, going silent immediately when he saw the flash of irritation Harald directed at him. "The Donald's" voice whined out of the speakers, Harald grimaced at the tone coming from the speakers
"...know who I am?" the whining sputtered, "I'll have your jobs for this, the Chief is a personal friend of mine."
Two of the others joined "The Donald" in whining and complaining, offering Signal increasingly large amounts of money to cut them loose and let them go. The fourth man, still a little sunned from being thrown to the floor, shook his head and sidled away from his neighbour until brought up short by his tethered ankle. He caught Signal's eye, noted his name tag.
"Cut me loose, Signal" he said calmly, "I do not wish to be associated with these cattle."
Harald leaned forward in his chair, keying Signal's command frequency.
"Do it." he said.
Signal cocked his head in recognition of the order and cut the ankle tie connecting the man to the other three.
"Drag him to the Green Room." Harald ordered.
Signal grasped the man's lapels and hauled him to his feet. Signal nodded slightly in acknowledgment of the order and frog-marched the man from the utility room. He paused in the door way to turn and address the three remaining men.
"I'll be back" Signal barked with a smirk, as he closed he door.
The Donald's voice rose in volume and shrillness "Hey, what about me, cut me loose!" he shouted. Only silence answered as the men called out in growing frustration and fear.
Signal led his prisoner into a small, green room. "Sit" he snarled. The man looked at him with detachment and settled coolly onto the hard wooden chair - the only furniture in the room. Harald settled back into his chair, taking another sip of his coffee, then turned to LaRue.
"Watch and learn, goon." Harald said in a friendly manner.
He turned to check the recordings of the interrogations Palin was now conducting in turn with the three men who had retained a cool front through the abuse. From time to time he nodded at the answers the men gave, jotting cryptic notes to himself on a legal pad with three columns, headed "Ford", "Houson" and "Frankelli". As the morning wore on, Harald let his attention wander to the three men in the utility room. Their voices were coarsened now from their futile shouting for attention. He tore off his first list, put it to one side and started another. Three more columns, headed "The Donald", "Hillaryman" and "Stupid". More cryptic notes filled those columns. Satisfied at last, Harald keyed Palin's command frequency.
"Take the three interogees back to the library " Harald ordered.
He pushed back his chair, stood and stretched to relieve the morning's the tension from his back. He watched as Palin led each of the three men, separately, into the library, before turning to the door of the monitor room. LaRue jumped forward to open the door for him and Harald stepped into the foyer. Gently he placed his hand on the naked blonde girl kneeling to the right of the doorway.
"Sweets," he said fondly, "fetch Carmen and the Allisons to me."
The girl smiled up at him, eyes shining.
"At once, Sir" she replied, jumping to her feet.
She ran to the stairway, bounding up the stairs, her light chains twinkling against her pale naked skin.
Harald watched her go, admiring her lithe form and energy, then turned to the elegant brunette kneeling on the other side of the doorway, reaching down to grasp the chain at her collar, tugging upwards slightly. She rose gracefully to her feet, Harald leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the lips, patting her gently on her pubic mound.
"Fetch coffee for four to the library, dear one." he said softly.
"At once, Master" she replied, turning slightly so Harald could stroke her clitoris lightly for a moment before patting her bottom in dismissal.
Elegant in her ballet boots, she minced across the foyer, turning down the corridor leading to the kitchen. With a gesture to LaRue to precede him, Harald turned to the library doors, LaRue opened them deferentially, and Harald strode into the room, seating himself in his chair, facing the three cuffed men standing waiting for him.
Harald made a gesture to Palin, and Palin cut the cuffs binding the three men. Palin stepped back in front of the three men, bowed slightly, and graciously gestured to the chairs.
"Please be seated gentlemen" Palin said, cordially, then moved to stand behind Harald's chair.
Harald smiled at the three seated men, all rubbing their wrists as circulation returned.
"I warned you my selection criteria were stringent and unforgiving" Harald said quietly into the silence.
He paused as the brunette entered the room. At his gesture she served the three men first, offering coffee and sweet pastries to each in turn, before kneeling before Harald and lifting the tray to him. "Some interview" the younger Ford snorted, a hint of anger in his voice. A gesture from white-haired Frankelli silenced him, as the foyer door opened, and the pretty blonde led three magnificent and naked women into the room on leashes. She led them to Harald, knelt and offered the leashes to him as the collared and leashed girls knelt and pressed their foreheads on the floor. Harald stood, opened the small library case beside his chair, drawing out three glittering steel collars. He handed the collars to the blonde, who sidled behind him on her knees as he stepped towards the three leashed girls.
"Girls," Harald said softly to the three leashed lovlies, "You've been with me for six months now, and learned the art of true service better than you ever imagined."
Harald pause, smiled fondly at the girls, patting the red-head softly on her cheek. "It's time to move on now, dear ones, and take your place as slave to a master I judge suitable for you. You have five year contracts. I expect you to serve with pride and dignity, upholding the reputation of my school. I know you'll all make me proud. At the end of your contracts, you'll return here, either for release or for further service, as I think best for you."
Harald stepped back a moment, and looked at each of the girls in turn.
"Carmen," he said, tugging gently at red-head's long hair. She bowed, and Harald unlocked the collar around her neck, letting it drop to the floor before her. "Your Master is Houson. He's a harsh man, but his desire to inflict pain is no greater than your desire for it."
He took a steel collar from the blonde and handed it to Carmen. Carmen rose and let her eyes follow the direction of Harald's gesture. She turned to face Houson, the collar held in both hands.
Harald turned to the next girl, a striking, high breasted blond.
"Pretty Allison, " he said, as she bent to let him unlock her collar. It dropped to the floor by her knees. "Training you was a delight. Your master, Ford, is young and randy, you'll match his appetite. He'll teach you sexual gymnastics that finally curl your hair." he added with a chuckle.
Harald took a second steel collar from the blond and handed it to her." Allison rose and smiled at the youngest of the three, licking her lips as she did. She held the collar in both hands, and stepped beside Carmen.
"And last, you I will miss most of all, dearest Allison, for you are truly the one who has taken to slavery whole-heartedly." Harald said, bending to kiss her upturned lips before unlocking her collar, catching it as it began to fall.
"Serve Frankelli well, sweet slave, and deepen your submission. He will take you deeper into submission than you have ever dreamed of reaching. And when your contract ends, hurry home, and enter my service permanently." Harald said, real fondness in his tone for the first time.
He took the last steel collar from the blonde and handed it to Allison. She rose, her eyes following the direction of Harald's gesture, then stepped to Carmen's left.
Harald stepped back, gave the collar he was holding to the waiting blonde, who placed it in the cabinet, before gathering up the two remaining collars and leaving the room. Harald rolled his shoulders once.
"Greet your Masters, girls." he said softly.
The three girls stepped forward gracefully, hips swaying slightly, each to her indicated owner, knelt and lifted the glittering steel to the man before her.
"Many want to buy my girls, but few deserve them." Harald said softly. "You have the strength of spirit and detachment my girls deserve. Each of you has a need your girl will meet. Use them well, they are jewels of great price."
As each man bent to attach the steel to his designated girl, Harald smiled in satisfaction. He turned watching fondly as each girl followed her new Master from the room. "Now," he thought quietly, "to deal with those miserable failures."
Hi Whip....since you asked me to...........lol
OK.......just my opinion.
First off it think that is a great start to a longer story and im dying to read the rest of it.
I like to see dialog separate form the body of the story if that makes any sense.
for example..
Harald watched her go, admiring her lithe form and energy, then turned to the elegant brunette kneeling on the other side of the doorway, reaching down to grasp the chain at her collar, tugging upwards slightly. She rose gracefully to her feet, Harald leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the lips, patting her gently on her pubic mound. "Fetch coffee for four to the library, dear one." he said softly. "At once, Master" she replied, turning slightly so Harald could stroke her clitoris lightly for a moment before patting her bottom in dismissal. Elegant in her ballet boots, she minced across the foyer, turning down the corridor leading to the kitchen. With a gesture to LaRue to precede him, Harald turned to the library doors, LaRue opened them deferentially, and Harald strode into the room, seating himself in his chair, facing the three cuffed men standing waiting for him.
I would like to see written.........
Harald watched her go, admiring her lithe form and energy, then turned to the elegant brunette kneeling on the other side of the doorway, reaching down to grasp the chain at her collar, tugging upwards slightly. She rose gracefully to her feet, Harald leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the lips, patting her gently on her pubic mound.
"Fetch coffee for four to the library, dear one." he said softly.
"At once, Master" she replied, turning slightly so Harald could stroke her clitoris lightly for a moment before patting her bottom in dismissal.
Elegant in her ballet boots, she minced across the foyer, turning down the corridor leading to the kitchen. With a gesture to LaRue to precede him, Harald turned to the library doors, LaRue opened them deferentially, and Harald strode into the room, seating himself in his chair, facing the three cuffed men standing waiting for him.
I also think that .......economy of words to convey a thought can be more powerful then trying to describe something to death.
for example
"Bugger it! Now what!" thought Harald,walking to the window, peering down to the street far below as a squad car pulled up in front of the building. He shrugged, turned back to his six guests. Though they were seated at ease around the room, they still eyeing each other distrustfully. He shook himself mentally, this weekend was not going according to Hoyle. He was not in the least amused.
could have been......
"Bugger it! Now what!" thought Harald unamused as he watched a squad car pull up in front of the building. The weekend was not going according to Hoyle. Shrugging he looked at his six guests who were still eying each other distrustfully.
Ok....I'm not going to do the dead horse thing with the three speeches ......
I would have liked it if you had had the girls kneel and say the speech to all three....then give parting works to each as you hand them to their new Master, telling them why this Master was worthy of HIS trained slaves.......
Ok ......OK....my humble opinion........
and Dean, this is for you. (................................................. .....) because i know the dots drive you nuts!.......lmao
Mad you know i love you!!!!!
Whip.......im happy that your having fun playing in the sandbox with the rest of us ......great big hugs!!!......*wink*.....i knew you would like it here!
Good God!!.......and Rose still has to pick the nits!!!........i love you Rose!!!
j
made the changes thrall - give it another read through - I think it's starting to come together -
lol Muse we're picking the nits - but I'm sure you'll still find one or two to roast me with :D
If we roast you do we get to eat you as well..............*weg*
Oh, I shall. In fact, i plan to approach this on Monday morning before i have coffee.Quote:
Originally Posted by Whippett
Although, since i'm an ignorant Amerkan, i'm not sure i'll understand all the big words.:eek::cool::blurp_ani
Dear Whippett,Quote:
Originally Posted by Whippett
We shall pray that it melts in your mouth, not in your hand....
While you might feel it a clever ploy to trash talk chocolate in hopes of distracting our lovely muse, I fear you are sadly mistaken. I'm sure the Dragons Muse's ire will be roused and should she approach your opus before her morning coffee I fear for your ego. Try to take it all with that infamous stiff upper lip, I'm sure it will be at least as instructive as it is vindictive:).
Your second draft holds some improvement IMHO, but it is the Dragon's muse whose verdict really counts.
Best of luck good sir,
Mad
Thank you all - and yes - what you roast you must eat, thrall (and muse) - LOL.
And don't worry about the big words, muse - just glide over them without a backwards glance (if it works for Dubya, I'm sure it will work for someone with a more gifted, if American, vocabulary).
I'll be happy to join you for coffee after the beans (and nits) have been roasted. I like my coffee strong, rich and flavourful, with a dollop of fresh cream - Turkish or French roast by preference. I might even bake a chocolate and almond cake for your after-care, sweet muse and thrall - as a postre to the main course ***weg***.
Actually, Mad, I wasn't trash talking chocolate at all - apart from a brief reference to the delightful em and en bars, and smarties, I don't believe I mentioned chocolate once - rotflmao.
Coffee with cream? *shudders* At Chez Dragon we subscribe to the trucker's credo of, "If you wanted a cup of sugar and cream why did you ask for coffee?" French roast is always present, freshly ground, of course, made in a proper electric percolator -- never one of those misbegotten drip machines. The French press is only used on Sunday mornings.
:D French press is the only way to go - but cream - just a dollop - brings out the flavour for me - unless its Blue Mountain - that I don't adulterate.
You didn't ask what kind of cream, though - my preference is a decent blended whisky (I'd never ruin good single malt by adulterating it with anything) :D
Blue mountain is all we use. You mean there are other kinds of coffee? Who knew?
Word to the wise...or the Newfie at the counter. You would be best to disregard any and all of thrall's comments. She means well, however, the helmet she has been wearing is a bit tight fitting and she tends to think in a constricting manner. Don't get me wrong, I like Thrall, but she is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, nor is the drawer particularly well designed. The bottom of the drawer is weak and tends to give way to any pressure. That's right, she is easy.
:eek::eek::eek::eek::eek::eek:Quote:
Originally Posted by Whippett
LMAO..........now, now.......Do we have to have whiskey lessons as well??? You should know by know Scotch (the whiskey that i prefer).....should be served with a small splash of water........It brings out the complexities in flavor.......:icon176:
Don't listen to him Whip.........lol...........my drawers are very well designed.....i just don't wear them.......LOLQuote:
Originally Posted by H Dean
Besides, Dean has never seen me use my knives....especially my nice flexible fillet knife.....so he doesn't yet know how sharp they really are......*weg*.......
All i have to say to you Dean is two words........Clusters......and .......Lighthouses.........
Unfortunately, as can be seen by Thrall's spelling of the word "whisky" she cannot spell it correctly. True, the most common spelling adds an "e", however, a true aficionado would never use "whiskey". Though, she is correct, a splash of water is required to bring out the peaty aroma and, thus, the proper flavor.
I see what Dean meant about the helmet - lol - A decent blended whiskey serves no useful purpose except as a fortifier for coffee (or hot chocolate). "Scotch" is an abomination and a waste of good Single Malt!Quote:
Originally Posted by thrall
Single Malt whiskey is an entirely different kettle of fish, as it were. Unless it is cask strength, it should be sipped neat, with spring water as a chaser between sips. Of the many fine Single Malts available, my preferences are Bladnok and Porth Ellen, though Craigmorangie and Bowmore are pleasant as well - and for dark days, a 25 yo Tallisker.