“Non. Double it and I’ll consider it,” Günter said, taking another swing at the heavy bag.

Two hundred million credits? That a lot for a few months work,” Harry observed.

“So you do it for a hundred then,” Günter shrugged, swinging again and hearing the satisfying sound of the bag ripping.

“Not funny, Günter. You’re the only one who could pull this off.” Harry practically whined. Just take the damn money! You don’t even need it, for God’s sake.

Before Harry could even draw breath, he found he was unable to, because Günter’s hand was crushing his windpipe. Harry’s eyes got huge. Both his hands began frantically clutching at his friend’s fingers, hoping to relieve the pressure even a little.

There was not a millimeter of give in Günter’s huge paw even though Harry was not a small, weak man himself.

“Respect,” Günter finally said with a half formed smile as he released his friend.

Continuing as if nothing had happened even though Harry was coughing and gagging a little, trying to get his breath and find his voice, Günter said, “There are more ways to lose respect than to earn it. Taking your client’s first offer just to show I can succeed, earns no respect. Tell them that for three hundred, I will do it.”

“Mill...” Harry cleared his throat twice before trying again. “Three hundred MILLION credits? You must...” Harry stopped himself before he said something that could end his life and thought fast instead. “You must be seeing the challenge involved at least,” he finished lamely.

“I can do this. There are a number of others who would do just as well, however each day it becomes more difficult. Nanite technology has made it this way. If one of them wishes to do it in my stead, they’re welcome to the lesser payment.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief. Even returning the counter offer was a dangerous task. These people did not like to be told no and Harry hoped they wouldn’t conclude that Günter’s counter proposal was a no. At least Günter had given him a way out by admitting that others could do the job too.

When he left Günter, Harry initiated contact with the client. His two minute conversation ended with a directive. “We only want the best. Pay him.”

Harry knew better than to wait before getting back to his friend. He’d once upon a time stalled, thinking Günter might have appreciated his sharp and merciless negotiation skills - assuming he was taking the time to get the best deal - it had been a mistake to dally. Günter had somehow immediately known the reason for the delay.

Harry turned his car around immediately and returned to the gym, where Günter was still demolishing heavy bags.

“They agreed,” he said without emotion. “You knew they would, didn’t you?”

Günter shrugged. “The odds were in my favor. 83%, actually. When?”

“Soonest. The mark is already three weeks ahead of you.”

Then I’d better get busy,” Günter replied, making no attempt to hurry, or even to pull the next punch, which caused a satisfying sound to Günter’s ears.

Günter stood naked, unconcerned about the stares he was attracting from those around him. Since he was almost always head and shoulders taller than everyone else, he expected no less attention and therefore felt no embarrassment that his penis was receiving most of the onlookers’ attention.

“I’m telling you Amanda, the cup won’t even be close,” he heard one technician say to another. Even the extra large one. Here, you try it! I ain’t going near that motherfucker again. He gives me the creeps.”

Günter stood like all the others before him with hands cuffed behind his back and in leg irons, at ease even though he was attached to a ring protruding from the wall. He’d peacefully submitted to all their tests, accepted their silly plugs without a fight - even their butt plug.

He knew that his size and apparent strength was intimidating, which only forced him to stifle a grin. He had to draw on his training to calm his mind once more.

Without his training, he very well might have left this place hours ago, due simply to boredom. He knew that dinky little cuffs like those on his wrists wouldn’t slow his departure at all, but he was aware that he once again needed to focus his chi with thoughts of a golden path wending its way alongside a slow flowing stream.

“Jeez!” He heard from Amanda, the second tech - a woman half the size of her male coworker.

Fit, yet fairly plain, with a nasty little smirk she wore like a shield, the tech was confident in her ability to make the biggest and baddest of men cower under her scrutiny. Günter immediately knew she needed a little adjustment therapy of her own, but now was not the time to put her in her place.

The tech finished with the heavily tattooed male she was fitting and strode over to look up at Günter. “Why are you not on the table, yet, asshole? Kerry’s such a douchebag. You ain’t so fucking tough, are you? I bet those steroids you’ve obviously been overdoing have rotted your brain, right? You don’t even have a single fucking tat,” she spat derisively.

Günter looked silently back at the tech, the gag in his mouth silencing him from replying even if he had intended to. So instead, he regarded the tech without emotion. He could see that she respected silly little tattoos as a sign of power. He had none, so he must be powerless. Such thinking would eventually get her killed, he foresaw.

The tech, not in the least worried about his size, unlocked him from the ring in the wall and ordered him into the table. She’d decided she would get him into the extra large cup even if it caused him neverending pain. She grinned at the thought. She liked causing the losers that got themselves enslaved, lots of pain.

The tech had to use two extra belt extenders to get the cup to sit mostly in place and when she was simply unable to force the buckle to dig into his skin, finally resorted to a third extender. The fact that he had no fat on him at all, didn’t surprise her. She’d dealt with plenty of body builders like this loser, but the absolute calm, dead eyes that didn’t flinch even as his huge python was squeezed into a space not nearly large enough, gave her pause.

He must have no feeling left in that beast, or his chestnuts, she decided, pushing a testicle with every ounce of the strength she could focus into her thumb, to get it under the cup too.