I am a machine. I kept repeating to myself though out my grueling gym work-out. Today was dreaded leg day and I was planning on going for a new personal best in the squat rack. I've been pushing to get to 500 pounds since the Marine Corp but it's looking like my knee has other plans for me. I'd like to say the knee was injured through some bad ass accident, but really was just a misstep stepping out of the latrine in a light rain. I had really been meaning to come up with a better story for that, but I find it much easier to just go with actual stories. I could never seem to keep straight what stories I had told which person...
I had only been out of the Marines for about 6 months, and it had been somewhat boring. When I returned home Sgt. Kowalski of the Springfield Police Department, true to his word, hired me on as a patrol officer. Training was fun, my partner is a good guy. He was a family man and a good time consisted of hanging out at his place, drinking light bear and watching football games. So, it's not like we hung out much. Somehow, I just thought, moving home and being around old friends would be more interesting.
My situation with women wasn't going very well either. I was fresh out of the Corp and still wound tight. I met a few girls but, after a few dates, it seemed like they weren't that interested. We'd have great sex, that was one thing I was very grateful to the military for. My body was strong and muscular and had the endurance to go all night. Usually, multiple times too. However, I was a bit of a bulldozer in the relationship department. I needed to be in control, even if I didn't realize it at the time.
To top it all off, I was starting to put on a few pounds. "It was mostly muscle because I had nothing much to do but go to the gym", so I told myself. The few beers every night was starting to show, and I found myself longing for a change.
In my last few months in the Marine Corps there were several recruiters and job postings that were made available to us. Ortega and Hoyt both left and went to work for corporate security which seemed somewhat exciting. They were traveling the world working security for large corporations. I reached out to Hoyt several times and never heard back from him. I was assuming he was on some job somewhere and had no means of contact. I had also reached out to a few other guys and either didn't hear back or did hear back and their situation wasn't much better than mine.
As I was trying to work through some of the opportunities that were out there in my mind, I remember that another old friend of mine, Mike Renee had taken a position with a security firm that provided security for wealthy clients. While that had sounded interesting, I couldn't see myself kissing some wealthy douchebags ass. That's out. Or so I though.
After several months of this I was giving up hope and relegating myself to a life of working on a police force in nowhere central Illinois. I was really starting to hate it here.
One Monday night, in my loneliness, I stopped over my partner's house to watch Monday Night Football. As we were sitting on the couch, the game was just going to half time and there was Lisa Salters giving some sideline analysis of the first half of the game. There, standing next to her was Renee, my old Marine Corp friend. I couldn't believe what I saw.
Renee was a tall guy, thick build but not "bodybuilder thick". Definitely a guy's guy. I guess he would have to be letting a whole platoon of guys get away with calling him Renee all the time. He was always the first guy to hit on a girl in a bar, the guy who could drink the most, the guy who always had your back in a fight. He also had the self-confidence to walked around the barracks buck-ass-naked all the time without a care in the world (I'm sure the fact that he had the largest cock out of all of us helped....) We hit it off during combat drills. He and I were usually the last two standing in any competition. I was a wrestler in high school so that really gave me an edge. That friendly competition led to a strong bond between him and I, so I was more than comfortable to give him a call.
"Dude, the job took some getting used to, but it's been the best thing I've done" Renee explained. "I get to meet all sorts of celebrities, and wealthy people. It's all access too, you are a part of everything, warts and all" He then went on to explain the clients were eccentric and sometimes very odd. I didn't think much of that, I had seen and delt with things that were much more severe than a description of "odd" could cover.
"Probably banging bitches like it was your job too," I retorted in as alpha-male way as I could... Talking to Renee always brought that out in me.
"Uh, I don't really talk like that anymore bud. Those days are definitely over," he said in a somewhat corrective tone. My mind was blown.
After about a half an hour on the phone I had made up my mind. That was the direction I wanted to go. Renee helped me through the onboarding process. Which was a painful, and very lengthy process. It included several drug screens and required multiple physique pictures of me shirtless which I didn't mind. I did wish I was more in beach shape, but I was still looking pretty good. I turned in my resignation in Springfield, packed my meager possessions into my shitty Chevy Equinox and made my way to California.
I moved in with Renee because the rent there was way outside of what I could afford. For the first few days, Renee was gone most of the time working. His place was immaculate. I would say for a bachelor, but honestly for anyone. I was impressed.
My start date was the following week. Renee kept telling me this job was going to test me in many new ways but that I would come out stronger because of it. He kept saying, you're a Marine, you will be fine. He was starting to make me a bit nervous about it honestly, but I was trying to play it cool.
My first day had finally come and my nerves were getting the better of me. I was to report to the office for a brief orientation then there would be some client meet-and-greets followed by potential assignments. Fortunately, Renee had recently come off an assignment and was reporting to the office until there was a new assignment. He was going to be handling my orientation and we'd be working together unless an assignment would come and cause us to go into different directions. I wanted to make a good impression, so I went with a shirt and tie and some more snug fitting slacks that really showed off my quads.
"Jesus Mike!" I exclaimed after we went through the first onboarding video. "I didn't realize I signed on for slavery... Protect the client at all costs, which I understand, and beyond that do whatever the client asks short of anything that would cause unreasonable bodily injury?!" I read back in a mocking voice... "What in the absolute fuck did you get me signed up for here?"
Mike calmly looked me in the eye." That was my reaction when I first got here, and honestly for the first few days on the job because there is more to come..." he explained calmly. "The clients are paying upwards of 20k a month for the protection you provide. You are being paid ridiculously well and you will be fine." He reached over and showed me the check stub from the check he received from his last assignment which was over $40k for just over two months of work. My jaw hit the floor.
"Fine," I said in mocking incredulity. "When do I get a check like that?"
"You probably won't get a check like that unless it's for a longer assignment. We have some potential clients coming in today and if you can land the assignment, you will be on your way," He explained. "With any luck we can land an assignment together and I can show you the ropes."
"Finally," Renee said with emphasis. "Every client is different, and you might get some very bizarre requests. My last job was a long job with a very well-known sports journalist who you may have seen me on TV with. Her and her girlfriend used to like to be very degrading towards me and would afford me no privacy. It actually wasn't as bad as it sounds but you do have to roll with it."
"Great, I'm a glorified call boy." I said in a somewhat joking, yet somewhat nervous tone.
Two beautiful women walked in, Debbie and Max (short for Maxine), and asked how we were doing. Debbie was a blonde, a little shorter and dressed in a suit. She was stunning. Looked to be in her late 30s. Long fingernails, which was a huge turn on for me. My mind immediately went to her dragging those across the base of my fully erect cock. She has a white blouse that was basically see through and accentuated the curves in all the right areas. A pencil skirt that went to just above her knee really showed off her thighs and ass. Maxine, on the other hand, was exotic. Very dark black complexion, apparently of Caribbean descent. Her figure was athletic, and her facial features were very defined. I was immediately turned on by her as well. The perfume she was wearing was intoxicating. One thing I had to admit was that this company knew how to hire females... Maxine let us know that our clients were here in her deep Caribbean accent which was somewhat difficult to decipher. But sexy as hell.
She informed us the client was apparently some duchess from Luxembourg and two of her daughters that were planning to travel for the next few weeks and wanted to have the additional protection of a bodyguard to accompany them. Maxine went through a litany of facts about the Duchess and mentioned that her two daughters were 18 and 19.
The last fact that she came to was that the Duchess, as she preferred to be called, wanted only men and wanted them to be very obedient. Both Renee and I took notice of this quickly. Being Marines, we were used to being obedient, however not to some wealthy aristocrat that never worked a day in her life... This was going to be interesting.
In paraded the Duchess, a very attractive lady in her early 50s. She had a very extravagant dress, a bit low cut, with few different colors going on in her hair. She reminded me a bit of Cruella Devil from the Dalmatians movies... Behind her marched her two daughters and apparently a personal assistant that had her nose buried in a planner of some sort.
"Off with the shirts boys" she announced with an er of expectancy before anything else was said. Both Renee and I looked at each other dumbfound.
Renee muttered to me, "Well that's a first, usually they aren't quite this forward."
"Come, come now boys, I haven't got all day. I want to make sure I'm getting good American muscle for the amount of money this place is charging." She said this as though it was perfectly natural. "I have a lot on my plate and when I make demands I expect for them to be met. Off with those shirts. Now!"
With a bit of reluctance both Renee and I stripped out of our shirts. Two musclebound meathead Marines standing here for the ogling pleasure of this woman and her daughters. I was thinking to myself. I put my life on the line for the country for this??
