CHAPTER I: CONFRONTATION!
A SMALL COLONIAL OUTPOST. DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
“Finally got the guts to face me, Tarzan?”
“I am not Tarzan, Slade.”
The shirtless hunter sat up on the bed in his cell to get a closer look at his guest. He had been locked up in the large single cell in the remote jungle outpost for hours. There were only two guards at the outpost, and both were a mile away at Commissioner Barnes’ cabin, debriefing him on the capture of the notorious Slade. They were confident that Slade was secure when they left. It was twilight and the hairy hunter’s men would not try a nighttime rescue.
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| Slade. Hunter. Currently in jail. |
A 6’3”/220-lbs muscleboy stepped out of the shadows. The handsome 18-year-old looked absolutely breathtaking with sharp, sculpted, Scandinavian features, tanned white skin, and long blond hair. He was a majestic young man with broad shoulders, sculpted arms, thick chest, ripped midsection, narrow waist, mountainous behind, and powerful legs. It was a body that was built to thrive and dominate in the harshest environment on Earth - the jungle.
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| Korak. Currently out of jail. |
The jungle boy padded forward, his soft, ankle-high, brown leather boots making little sound. The large hunting knife on his hip dangled from his belt, a dangerous weapon in the hands of an expert fighter who had been raised in the jungle. The jungle boy casually brushed his long, silky blond hair back off his handsome but scowling face. His eyes were hard and angry.
Slade shook his head and sighed. “Oh. You’re Boy. Shoulda known it weren’t your daddy. He still ain’t got the guts to be in the same room as me after what he did to me. Now, he’s sendin’ his kid and the Nagasu after me.” He looked the big jungle beast up and down, admiring the stud in his sexy loincloth. The hunter smiled, “Look at you. All grown up. I like it, Boy.”
The young jungle man’s chest puffed out and his shoulders rolled back. He put his hands on his hips, standing with his feet apart. He confidently replied, “My name is Korak, not Boy.”
“Sure. Nothin’ ‘Boy’ ‘bout you, is there? I saw you out there today. Takin’ on my men like a real stud. You’re all-man now, ain’t ya? More of a man than your daddy, that’s for damn sure.”
“Tarzan is my friend, not my father.”
“I hear that. No way did a warrior like you come from those cowardly loins.” The captured hunter walked to the cell door, rubbing his hairy torso before adjusting his manhood in his cotton cargo shorts. “Looks like the jungle got lucky with its new protector.” Slade looked past Korak, “And you, you’re the one who tackled me down in the raid. Got a name, hero?”
The muscular, young, 5’11”/200-lbs, Black man stepped out from behind Korak. At 18, he was already a sturdy and capable man. Like Korak, he was striking with a strong face, thick black dreadlocks, and carved muscles, He wore red cloth around his waist, Nagasu warrior adornments, and his beautiful body glistened in the streaming light. He carried a spear and spoke in a deep voice, “I am Mkuma. Son of the Bhaka, chief of the Nagasu. Friend of Korak.”
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| Mkuma. Nagasu warrior. Korak's friend. |
“Nice. Two tough young studs, defyin’ their daddies to make shit happen.” The young warriors looked defiant. “C’mon, kids, don’t try to act like Tarzan and Bhaka are okay with you two takin’ on me and my men.” Slade teases, “I hope they don’t spank you for it.”
Korak approached the cell. Slade and the jungle boy stood inches apart, separated by metal bars. They locked eyes, their hot breath flowing between the steel into each other’s faces. Slade rubbed his flat, hairy stomach. At 6’1” and 190-lbs, the 42-year-old hunter, poacher, and thief was not intimidated by the young jungle stud. He was two inches shorter and 30-lbs lighter, but a fearsome fighter in one-on-one combat.
“You know why I’m here, Slade.”
“Tarzan sent ya to let me out.”
The young jungle man’s eyes narrowed, “Where are they?”
“Strong silent type. Get to the point. No small talk. Walk softly and carry a big stick.” Slade sneered, “I’ve seen it all before, Korak.” He switched to a hungry grin, “See, that doesn’t work for me. If we’re going to play this game, we need to get to know each other first.”
“What game?”
Slade spread his arms out wide and stepped backwards. He let the young muscleman check him out. In only his shorts, socks and work boots, the hunter was an impressive man in his own right. Rugged good looks, dark hair and scruff, a sultry coat of body hair and a tanned tightly muscled body. Korak remained focused. He would not be seduced by this man. Not like Tarzan was when they first met. Korak knew the story and would not be fooled by Slade’s act.
Korak repeated, “What game?”
The hunter came back to the bars. He smiled, “Damn, you’re the one I’ve been waiting for, Korak. You’re so much better than your daddy. He was so lost and lonely when we met. A boy looking for a daddy. I taught him everything. Took care of him for three years. Taught him to speak and act right. Taught him all kinds of things. And what thanks did I get?”
“The gems you stole. Tell me where they are. Where did you hide them?”
“Those rocks? They’re not hidden. They’re gone. Defending the jungle ain’t cheap. Not anymore. It ain’t all gettin’ naked and mud wrestling these days. Now that the Great War’s over, folks are looking at this place again. Seein’ the potential.”
Korak was surprised, “You sold them already? Where’s the money?”
“That’s gone, too. See, kids, my men help keep the miners and loggers out. Give ‘em lots of trouble. Steal their shit. Break whatever we can’t steal. Make it too expensive for them to operate here so they move on. But I need money to pay my men. And they don’t work cheap. Danger pay. It’s a vicious cycle, but it’s worth it to protect paradise.”
“You don’t protect this jungle. You defile it.”
“You’ve been brainwashed by your daddy and that bastard Barnes, Any bad I do ain’t shit compared to what’s comin’. For every animal I sell off, two more spring up in their place. Big deal. The gems I used are nothin’ compared to what’s still in the ground. For now.”
“You plan to steal more.”
“I ain’t the one doin’ the stealin’. It’s the companies. They’re gonna tear this place up. Listen real good - your ‘friend’ Tarzan is old news. One strong man in a loincloth and carrying a knife can’t do shit against hundreds of guys with guns clear-cutting trees and digging mines. Like I told him when we was together, we need to cooperate, but your man won’t accept it.”
“Neither do I.”
Slade held up his hands. “We’ll see. At least gimme the chance to plead my case. See, there’s you jungle guys and your animals. There’s the tribes and their warriors - bet you could help out there, Mkuma. And there’s me and my men. It’ll take all three of us working together to save the day. Your buddy, old Commissioner Barnes? He works for himself. He gets paid by the companies. Locking me up is the worst thing you could do for the jungle.”
“What do you mean?”
“Evil’s comin’. And you’re on the wrong side. We gotta join forces. You, me, and the tribes fighting as one? No one will dare come near here for fifty more years.”
“Save your lies. If I have my way, you’ll be going to prison for fifty years.”
Slade leaned up against the bars. He locked eyes with Korak. As he did, he subtly swung his big right hand between the bars, right up under the jungle man’s front loincloth flap. The older hunk locked his paw tightly around the surprised jungle stud’s ample manhood. He held tightly, keeping Korak from backing up. The powerful grip brought the young hunk against the bars.
“It ain’t a lie, Korak. Just like you bein’ a better man than your daddy ain’t a lie. Trust me on that. Damn, I like what I’m feelin’. You’re packing serious meat, ain’t ya?”
Korak moaned. He forced himself to focus, “Trust you? So, you can trick me? Enslave me? Betray me? Like you did Tarzan?”
“It wasn’t like that. At all. He betrayed me. We had a good thing goin’ then he ran away. Never even kissed me goodbye. I’ll tell you all ‘bout it, but first things first. I’ve put an offer on the table, Korak. How ‘bout you and me negotiate the old-fashioned way?”
Slade squeezed the loincloth-wrapped meat. Korak went weak in the knees, giving the hunter the opportunity to reach his other hand through and grab hold of his long hair. He pulled the young stud’s face to the bars and kissed him through them. The 18-year-old melted as his mouth and manhood were controlled by the muscular hunter. The young muscleman struggled to focus.
Korak was not going to do this. He grabbed Slade’s right forearm and wrist. He smoothly jumped up, bracing his feet on the cell bars. Slade looked down in surprise. Before the hunter could react, the young jungle man pushed back pulling the hairy muscleman into the bars face-first. CLANG! The impact stunned Slade, forcing him to release Korak’s manhood.
As Korak pulled away, Slade instinctively reached for the manhood again. He missed but managed to grab the front of the young jungle man’s loincloth. Korak backed up and with both men pulling, the leather knots tore open Korak’s belt. Leather pulled down his butt crack and between his legs. Before the young muscleman knew it, the loincloth was in the cell. Slade backed up, holding his prize of the soft leather that made the jungle boy’s loincloth.
The shocked jungle boy stood naked with just his leather boots, belt and knife. His soft uncut cock hung freely, resting over his sizable balls. Slade held the leather to his face and breathed in deeply. “Mmm. Fresh. Just like Tarzan used to be.”
“Give it back.”
“Come and get it, Korak. Key’s in that desk drawer right there.”
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CHAPTER II: FIGHT!
[translated from the Nagasu language]“Korak, you do not need the cloth.” Mkuma advised, “Do not let the devil manipulate you into freeing him.”
“The cloth is proof that we were here.” Korak pulled his friend out of Slade’s earshot. “And I cannot let him win. Even something as small as this. He can never win.”
“Look at him in that cage. He has won nothing. We should leave. Now.”
The naked white jungle boy ignored his friend. He stripped off his foot coverings. The muscular teen unfastened his leather belt. Korak laid it and his knife on the desk. Standing completely naked, he opened the drawer and found the key to the cell. Korak handed it to his disapproving friend. He turned to stare down the arrogant hunter, who continued to proudly sniff the prized leather loincloth.
Korak said, “Mkuma, you wait out here. Lock the door behind me. If he defeats me, leave me. Do not open the cage door as long as he is alive. He cannot go free. At any cost.”
Slade taunted them in Nagasu, “I will take you both on. Open the door wide, winner walks out of here.” The young men stared at him with hard eyes, surprised that he was following the conversation. He smirked, switching back to English, “I’ve been in the jungle a long time, boys. You pick up a few things. There are some tricks to Nagasu, but it’s not that unique.”
Mkuma and Korak just stared at him.
Slade challenged, “C’mon, why not face me together? Two big strong boys like you? Against little old me. Unless you boys are scared.”
Mkuma snarled in English, “Your tricks are cheap, devil. Be warned. Try to manipulate me and I will send my spear through your mouth.” The young Black warrior suddenly hurled his spear with uncanny speed and accuracy. It threaded the corner of the cage, passing through the bars and landing in the far wall. The African powerhouse confidently walked over and pulled it free.
The hunter was speechless for a moment. He moved to the corner and checked the angle and width, not believing the trick shot was even possible. It was. Barely. With no margin for error. With a nod, he said, “Damn impressive. I don’t think some of my guys could do that with a pistol. How many Nagasu warriors would follow you? Chief Mkuma has a nice ring to it.”
“DEVIL!” The young warrior prepared to throw his spear into Slade’s heart, but Korak grabbed his wrist just in time. The two young men locked eyes. Korak whispered not to kill Slade. If Barnes came back to find him slain by a Nagasu spear, there would be hell to pay. Mkuma deferred to his friend, but he stared down Slade. “You escape death for the moment. Do not speak to me again. In English or Nagasu.”
Slade looked at Korak. The hunter said, “And I thought you were the hot-tempered one.” Slade adjusted his manhood in his shorts, “You boys are nothing like your daddies. Mkuma is a real warrior. If he ever gets to be chief, watch out jungle. Too bad the companies will wipe the Nagasu out before he gets the chance. Relocate the few who survive. Take their land.”
Korak growled, “I have no more patience for your lies than my friend. Tread lightly. I am as skilled with my knife as Mkuma is with his spear. And I can take my loincloth from your dead hand as easily as your live one, if you provoke me.”
“Okay, okay. Cool it, Korak. I get it. The truth hurts. Five, ten years and this is all gone. I’ve seen the plans, kid.”
Slade backed up, pulling his belt from his shorts. He pulled off his boots and socks. Slade turned his back to Korak as he dropped his shorts and underwear to the floor. The jungle boy felt his cock stir at the sight of the hunter’s ass. Korak nodded, assuming both of them would now be naked when they fought. Except Slade had a different idea. He secured his leather belt around his bare waist.
Korak asked, “What are you doing?”
Slade ignored the question. He slid Korak’s loincloth through the belt from front to back. The hairy older man turned and fixed the long piece of leather just right. He adjusted his manhood in the pouch. It was solid, close to his full 7” length. He wedged the upward part in back deep in his crack and fixed the flaps in front and back. Slade proudly strutted around the cell in the stolen loincloth. He squatted and shifted it while the white jungle boy fumed.
“Now, Korak, how about you finally get in here and show me what you got. I mean, the day I met Tarzan, he was your age. I had him on his knees sucking my dick by dusk. And taking it up his ass before dawn. But I bet you’ll put up more of a fight than he ever did.”
“Tarzan raised himself. He didn’t understand your devious tricks. I do. Thanks to him.”
“I don’t know. That was pure instinct. No animal lets another animal do to it what I did to him unless that’s its nature. Trust me. When I bred that boy, he loved it. That’s why he lets Barnes tell him what to do, who to fight, and who not to fight. Fact is, Tarzan is weak in mind and spirit. I made him my boy and now, he’s chosen to be Barnes’ property. Pure and simple. He’s tough, but he needs a man to guide him.”
“Tarzan is more of a man than you’ll ever be.”
Slade ignored Korak. He continued, “The three of us? We’re the same. We’re the protectors this jungle needs. The right leaders. The real alphas.”
“You are not a protector.”
“I’m a lot of things, but I ain’t a liar. You said you know the story of me and Tarzan. No way. If you heard the real story, Tarzan would be your bitch and you’d be King of the Jungle. King Korak. Has a nice ring to it.” Slade leaned forward, whispering seductively, “And like I said before, Chief Mkuma does, too. Shh. Don’t tell him, yet.”
Mkuma growled, “What lies is he whispering? Do not believe him.”
Korak reassured his friend, “I do not.”
His patience wearing thin, Mkuma marched to the cage door. He thrust his spear between the bars, forcing Slade back against the far wall. The young Nagasu warrior said to Korak, “Go. Get your cloth back. And be fast or I will kill this devil.” He unlocked the cage, never taking his eyes off the poacher. Slade waited patiently, not willing to test the young Black warrior’s mettle.
Korak entered the cell confidently. The naked jungle boy waited at the cell door while his lover locked it behind him. He scowled, his muscles tensed, his hands formed into fists. Slade leaned back against the wall, enjoying the theater of it all. The cell was designed to hold multiple men, big enough for a fight. Slade felt the close quarters favored him, but he was smart enough to see that Korak would not kneel before him without a fight as Tarzan once did.
The hunter rubbed his pecs, “Ever felt a hairy chest before?”
Korak growled and squatted. He bounced up and moved closer. Slade nodded. He pushed off the wall and raised his fists. While Tarzan had kept his distance from Slade for years, fighting his men but never him, Korak was bolder. Slade had seen him at age 14, taking down one of his grown men. As he grew up, Korak got closer and closer to confronting Slade directly.
This was inevitable.
Slade never fought Tarzan. He never had to. But he had seen him fight on countless occasions. First as an ally. Later as an enemy. When he saw Korak fight his men, he recognized the style immediately. He understood the way the jungle men moved. Animalistic. Wild. Ferocious. Using their overwhelming strength to overpower and their inhuman speed and agility to strike down their opponents before they could react.
The hunter knew better than any man alive that fights with these jungle men were savage, brutal, and brief. Slade developed a strategy many years ago. If you tame a wild animal, you had to be prepared for their instincts to overwhelm their training. He tamed Tarzan, but he planned for an eventual outburst that never came. Slade waited patiently. Stayed light on his feet. Let the naked muscleman come to him. Prepared for the brute force of the jungle boy.
Slade teased, “I’m gonna take your ass when I win. Send you back to your daddy fed and bred.” Slade smirked, “Bet you been bred a lot by Mkuma’s big spear. Even soft I can tell that thing could split a man in two.” Korak snarled. Mkuma proudly shifted his pouch. The hunter smiled, “Yeah, I knew it. You got the same hunger to be tamed as your daddy.”
The young jungle man growled, “For Tarzan’s honor, you will feel my spear today, Slade.”
“It’s a big one. Kinda wasted on you, boy.” Playing minds games, the hunter mocked him, “Now, that ass of yours? That’s something special. You’ll make a nice consort for Mkuma one day. Korak, queen of the Nagasu. Has a nice ring to it.”
Korak recklessly charged. Exactly as Slade hoped. The young powerhouse closed the gap in the blink of an eye. He leapt, arms up, big body soaring. Looking like an ape as he moved to tackle the hunter down. Slade quickly turned, lifting his boot in a side kick that passed between Korak’s arms. The boot slammed into the jungle boy’s jaw. CRACK! Korak’s head snapped back, and he fell to the floor, landing in his hands and knees.
Mkuma took a step closer, shocked to see his friend stunned from one move. Slade lifted his boot into Korak’s washboard stomach. WHOMP! The teen muscleboy flopped onto his back. The hunter drove his boot down of the naked jungle boy’s thickly muscled body. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Korak grabbed Slade’s boot and pushed him away. The young jungle boy leapt and aggressively charged. Slade dodged. Korak ran face-first into the wall. SLAM!
Korak was stunned. Slade kicked him in the back, pushing him into the wall. WHACK! BAM! The hairy hunter unleashed a barrage of kidney punches to the thick back. THWAK! POW! THUD! Slade grabbed his shorts. He wrapped them around Korak’s neck and tightened up, choking the naked jungle boy. As the young muscleboy began to fight back, Slade grabbed a handful of blond hair. With a vicious tug, he dropped Korak hard to the wooden floor. BAM!
Undaunted, the muscular teen rose quickly and charged again. This time, he ducked a right cross. WHOOSH! Korak grabbed Slade around the waist, running him back-first into the wooden wall. CRASH! The hunter slammed his forearms onto Korak’s broad back while lifting his knee into the jungle boy’s torso. WHACK! THUD! Korak grunted. He realized Slade was deceptively strong. The older man repeated the move, rewarded with more grunts. WHACK! THUD!
Slade grabbed Korak’s long, silky, dirty-blond hair. He forced the jungle boy around, putting him against the wall. The hunter used his powerful fists to pound Korak’s amazing torso. THUD! POW! THUD! It was like hitting a brick wall, but the gut punching was taking a toll. Korak sagged against the wall, his chiseled abs red from the rapid-fire fists. POW! THUD! POW! Slade squeezed the muscleboy’s balls hard. ARGH! Korak went weak in the knees.
The hunter pulled down on the balls sharply before letting go. Korak dropped to his knees. Slade used the long blond hair to force Korak’s face into his bulge. The hairy muscleman smothered the jungle boy, forcing his to breathe in the combination of their musk. Slade knew the power of mental warfare. Breaking Korak’s spirit was just as important as breaking his magnificent body. The jungle boy pushed Slade backward, freeing his face.
Slade kept hold of the thick blond hair, though. He used it to pull Korak’s face into a rising knee. WHACK! Korak saw stars. Slade dove forward, dragging the teen powerhouse backward. He smashed the back off Korak’s head onto the hard wooden floor. WHACK! The naked muscleboy writhed on the floor as the hairy hunter mounted him. Slade fired one strong punch across Korak’s jaw. CRACK! The young jungle man went limp.
“Gonna give up, boy?”
Korak summoned his will and bucked up wildly, throwing Slade off him. He couldn’t believe how easily he was being manhandled. The teen powerhouse’s boundless confidence was shaken, but not broken. Slade moved in behind him. He once again grabbed a handful of hair. He pulled Korak to his feet, staying behind the massive muscleboy. The hairy hunter wrapped his arms around the naked muscleboy’s neck in a rear naked choke. URK!
Outside the cage, Mkuma watched in awe as his friend and lover was being easily destroyed. He would not save Korak unless his life was in danger. Mkuma knew from his warrior training that the lesson from losing was often more valuable than the one from winning. Inside his red pouch, Mkuma’s thick member was rising to its full 10”. Korak and Mkuma were both strong, young, alpha male. They topped each other, but never dominated one another. Mkuma had never seen a weak Korak, even when they were children.
In the cage, the naked jungle boy thrashed against the sleeper hold. Korak’s eyes were rolling back in his head. He violently threw his body forward, hoping to throw Slade off. The hairy hunter held on tightly. His coarse fur scratched across Korak’s smooth, broad back. Slade wrapped his legs around Korak’s trim waist to keep the hold tight. The older muscleman kept the pressure up, searching for the spot that would put the struggling muscle stud out for good.
Korak grabbed Slade’s legs. He threw himself backward, stumbling more than running. The sleeper had the naked jungle boy’s full of brain fog, but when he fell in the small cell, he slammed Slade into the wall. BAM! The hunter was crushed between the sturdy structure and the massive muscleboy. Still, Slade held on and Korak grew weaker. The jungle boy was near unconsciousness, going on instinct.
The hunter knew he was close to finishing off the naked muscleboy. He would enjoy owning the jungle boy, just as he had owned Tarzan. Korak was thrashing wildly, but ineffectually. In the jungle, the strongest beast won. The ape, lion and python overpowered their enemies. He had survived by being smarter. Against Slade, he had been stupid, letting himself get trapped like this. The hunter was crushing him like histah, the great snake.
The naked jungle boy’s eyes rolled back in his head. His eyelids closed. He spun, almost falling. Whether by luck or by instinct, the mighty muscleboy spun and collapsed into the metal bars. The metal dug into Slade’s back. ARGH! He momentarily lost focus, enabling Korak to get his senses back. Korak twisted but fell to one knee. He lunged forward, lowering his head. It was the top of Slade’s head that hit the bars. CLANG!
The hairy muscleman was seeing stars. He held onto Korak, but he was no longer choking him out. Korak was still weak. Desperate. He threw himself backwards. They toppled to the floor with the naked muscleboy landing on top. SPLAT! OOF! Crushed between a floor of hardwood and a body of hard muscle, the dazed Slade’s arms fell to the side. Korak rolled away, finally free. The muscleboy rose, but immediately collapsed. He desperately grabbed the steel bars to remain standing.
Slade was rolling to his feet. He was angry. He knew that he had the muscleboy right where he needed him. Only dumb luck had saved the muscleboy. Slade cursed. He assumed that the small confines benefitted him, but in the jungle, Korak would be defeated and unconscious. Slade moved in quickly, not wanting to lose his advantage. Korak was big, but he looked small, pathetically clutching the bars, his head bowed, manhood limp, and his muscles soft.
Emboldened by the sight of his powerless opponent, Slade kicked out, hitting Korak in the side. WHACK! Korak cried out as he spun to face out of the cage, his torso pressed against the bars, his manhood dangling through them. Mkuma could hold back no longer. He growled, “Fight, Korak!” Slade splashed onto the muscleboy’s back, sandwiching him against the bars. SPLAT! He pressed his leather-wrapped bulge between Korak’s thick muscular cheeks.
“Boy doesn’t wanna fight. I told you, he’s just like his daddy.” Slade grab the long, luscious blond hair and pulled back hard. “Don’t let this big dick fool you, Mkuma. He’s just a bitch at heart. Born to be bred.”
The hairy hunter humped his prey’s bare ass as he bit Korak’s neck. The naked muscleboy writhed against the bars, his cock involuntarily swelling. Slade reached through the bars and found it. He grabbed the young jungle boy’s throbbing cock tightly. The hunter owned the muscleboy. Korak’s cock leaked, slicking up his cock, making Slade’s job even easier. When Slade pulled his mouth free, Korak’s neck was marked with a dark purple love bite.
“Consider yourself branded, boy. Branded as property of Slade.”
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CHAPTER III: CONQUERED!
“Been a long time since Slade owned a jungle boy. You’re gonna like it.”
Korak summoned his will, crying out, “NO!”
The naked jungle boy’s breathing was fast as he gasped. Slade was pumping his manhood. Korak could feel his seed rising. He could feel Slade’s erection splitting his cheeks. Only his own loincloth on Slade was saving him from being roughly penetrated. The teen powerhouse grabbed the bars. His knuckles were white as he desperately tried to focus. The hairy hunter owned him. Korak knew that it was now or never to do something, anything, to escape.
Using his remaining strength, Korak pushed back hard on the bars. Slade was forced back. A metal bar hit Slade’s wrist. Combined with the slick pre-cum, the naked muscleboy’s throbbing erection slipped free from the hunter’s hand. Once his 220-lbs of teen muscle was moving, Korak kept going until they collided with the wall. THRAK! Slade tried to grab the naked jungle boy around the neck, but Korak grabbed his arm and flipped Slade onto the bed. BOING!
Before Slade could move, Korak leapt on top of him. The jungle boy splashed all his weight on top of the hairy muscleman. They began wrestling, the springs creaking as they struggled for control. On the soft mattress, there was no way for Slade to flip their positions. All he could do is throw wild punches, all of which either bounced off Korak’s solid muscles or were blocked.
The jungle boy was having more success, smashing his fists and forearms down, striking wildly. His brute strength made the blows devastating. THWAK! WHOMP! KRAKT! Slade was forced into defense, desperately protecting his head from the worst of the attack. The hairy hunter tried to bridge to throw Korak off, but the 220-lbs teen was immovable. The attack finally eased, the pace of the blows slowing.
Slade saw an opening. He thrust his hands up and grabbed the naked jungle boy by the throat. The hairy hunter had strong, calloused hands that were more than capable of choking a man unconscious. Korak struggled to pry the fingers from his neck, feeling his air being cut off. Having barely survived the rear naked choke, the teen powerhouse didn’t know how much more he could handle before losing consciousness.
Korak lashed out with a clubbing blow to Slade’s head. WHACK! The hunter was stunned. The jungle boy wildly threw himself off the bed rolling onto the floor. He rolled to the bars on the side of the cage. Slade pushed himself off the bed, smoothly rolling over, landing on one knee. It was fast, but not fast enough. Korak took two steps and leapt, clearing the distance between them in an instant. There was no time for Slade to kick, punch, or dodge.
Slade was hit by 220-lbs of flying teen muscle, the jungle boy’s heaving pecs slamming into his face with the force of a charging rhino. WHOMP! They fell back on the twin bed, but this time, it was crossways Slade’s head slammed into the wall on the way down. CRACK! The hairy hunter went limp. Korak bounced off. He grabbed one of Slade’s boots and pulled him off the bed. The stunned hunter sailed up and off before crashing hard onto his back on the floor. SPLAT!
Korak dragged the dazed hunter to his feet, throwing him against the wall like a ragdoll. SPLAM! Before Slade could fall, Korak grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall. The resilient teen powerhouse was back at full strength, easily controlling the hairy hunter’s 190-lbs of muscle. Korak reached for Slade’s belt. He unbuckled it. The belt and Korak’s loincloth fell to the floor, leaving Slade naked in his hiking boots.
“Do you surrender, Slade?”
In response, the hairy hunter lifted his boot up between Korak’s legs. SQUISH! The naked muscleboy’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open as his dangling balls took the brunt of the swift kick. Slade casually shoved the side of Korak’s head, spinning to gasping muscleboy around. The older muscleman kicked Korak in the behind, sending him stumbling forward to the bars. CLANG! Korak dropped to his knees, holding his manhood.
Slade shook out his head. He was done playing. He picked up his belt and walked toward Korak. The hairy hunter came up behind the recovering teen powerhouse. He wrapped the thick leather around Korak’s neck and tightened it, choking him. Korak clawed at the leather as it dug into his smooth young flesh. He gagged and gasped. Slade forced the jungle boy to his feet from behind. He pulled from side to side, controlling the 220-lbs muscleboy.
The hairy hunter pushed Korak into the steel bars. CLANG! He pulled off the belt only to force it back around. Slade threaded the end through the buckle and pulled it tightly. The older muscleman used his body to hold Korak against the bars as he slid the end of the belt over the highest crossbar he could reach. Slade wrapped the end of the belt around his left hand, grabbed the dangling leather with his right.
Korak struggled, but Slade sunk down, suspending his 190-lbs from the belt. The naked jungle boy was lifted by his neck as the leather slid over the crossbar, pulled with Slade’s weight and strength. The belt cut into the teen powerhouse’s throat. He was pulled up onto his toes, hung in the makeshift noose. Korak felt his feet leaving the floor. He knew he would not last much longer. In desperation, he kicked at Slade, hitting the hunter in the head on the third try. WHACK!
Slade lost his grip on the belt momentarily, allowing Korak to get his feet back under him. The young muscleboy kicked again and again. CRACK! SMACK! Slade lost hold of the belt. The leather slid back over the crossbar, falling down. The belt hung loosely from Korak’s neck like a leash. The naked jungle boy spun and twirled along the metal bars, loosening the leather garrote that almost finished him.
The hairy hunter was up and coming after him. Slade dove in low. The naked jungle boy protected his manhood, but Slade was aiming for the end of the belt. The older muscleman grabbed it as he slipped past. Slade immediately pulled hard. Korak was spun around and pulled forward into a rising knee to his abs. THUD! Korak put his hands in the belt loop around his neck, which prevented him from being choked, but it also limited his ability to fight back.
Slade ran behind his prey, yanking hard on the leather belt. Korak resisted, but the fight had taken its toll on both men. Night was upon them and the only light was the moonlight streaming through the windows and thatched roof. The naked jungle boy stumbled backward into a boot to his back. WHACK! Slade jerked the leather, spinning Korak into the wall. BAM! The hairy hunter moved forward, but the teen powerhouse kicked out. Slade dodged.
The older muscleman decided to keep his distance until Korak was down. Slade pulled again and spun, sending the naked jungle boy across the small cage into the metal bars. CLANG! He did it again, whipping the teen muscleboy back into the wall. SPLAT! Korak was stumbling, giving Slade confidence that he would soon go down. Korak felt like he would go down, too. He knew he was losing his youthful energy reserves were draining.
When Slade tried for another whip, Korak grabbed the belt. He countered Slade’s pull, braced his bare feet, and leaned back against the wall. The hairy hunter couldn’t move him. Korak charged forward, slamming his body into Slade’s. WHUMP! As the hairy hunter stumbled backward, Korak sharply pulled on the belt. It slipped free from Slade’s powerful hands, enabling Korak to pull it off his neck.
The muscleboy threw the belt buckle at the bars. It went through, but the belt ended up catching on the middle crossbar and hanging there. Slade dove for the belt, but Korak was on him too fast. He was recovering, but his 220-lbs of boy muscle crashed into Slade, crushing him into the bars. CLANG! Slade groaned and went limp. Korak pulled the hairy hunter into a bearhug. ARGH! Slade went limp from the force of the powerful squeeze.
Korak whipped Slade from side to side. The hunter’s coarse body fur scrapped across the jungle boy’s smooth chest as he was flung wildly. The teen powerhouse knew a man as smart and vicious as Slade could counter the hold. By keeping Slade moving, it increased the damage and kept his arms flailing instead of working. The older muscleman was limp and moaning, fighting to keep from submitting to the power of the teen.
Korak lifted Slade up in the bearhug, the hunter’s boots leaving the floor. Korak turned and threw him down onto the unforgiving wooden floor. SPLAT! Slade bounced and rolled onto his stomach. He knew that he had to rise. He had to get back to the fight, but he was at a loss. It wasn’t just youth. The jungle boy had relentless drive, inhuman resilience, and endless reserves of adrenaline. Slade had never encountered anything like it in man or beast.
In other circumstances, Slade would have admired the young jungle boy. But at the moment, he had to focus. The hairy hunter needed a weapon. Something. Anything. He had his boots, but to use them, he had to get up. He saw the belt. It hadn’t succeeded yet, but he still crawled on the floor, his eyes on the dangling leather. Slade made it only inches before a big barefoot slammed down repeatedly onto his aching back. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!
Korak stepped over Slade, straddling him. He bent forward, bringing his thick forearms down in a clubbing motion. WHOMP! THUMP! WHACK! The power of the blows had the older muscleman moaning and writhing on the floor. Korak the back of struck Slade’s head. CRACK! The hairy hunter almost lost consciousness. Korak reached down and grabbed Slade around the waist. He pulled the 190-lbs muscleman up like he weighed nothing.
The naked jungle boy squeezed Slade in a reverse bearhug, crushing the older muscleman. The teen powerhouse once again whipped the hairy hunter around, ensuring that his prey could not resist. Slade’s head whipped around, his body limp. Korak flung Slade into the wall. BAM! The stunned stud bounced off, right back into Korak’s waiting arms. The young muscleman grabbed another reverse bearhug.
Slade could barely breathe in the python-like squeeze. He struggled to think of a counterattack. When Korak lifted Slade’s boots off the floor and threw him from side to side, the hairy hunter begged, “S-s-stop! Puh-puh-please!” Korak lowered Slade and pushed him front first against the bars. CLANG! The teen muscleboy was wary but the hairy hunter slumped against the steel.
Korak grabbed the leather belt. He wrapped it through the bars and around Slade’s waist. The naked jungle boy unbuckled it behind the hairy hunter’s back, pulling it to the last hole. With that done, Korak leaned against Slade. He asked, “Do you submit to me?” Slade nodded, admitting that he was done. “I want to hear you say it.”
The hairy hunter said, “I’m done. You got me. I submit to you, Korak.”
Suddenly, Slade felt the tip of a spear against his left pec. He tensed. Mkuma said, “I stayed out of the battle, but now that it is over, I will defend my friend. I warn you, if you are lying about your submission, you will die by my spear.”
“I’m not lying. I submit. Korak can take his loincloth and know that he whupped my ass.”
Korak said, “Does ‘whupped’ mean ‘own’, Slade? Unless you are forgetting the challenge you made to me? My spear is primed to breed you.”
To make his point, the teen muscleboy leaned in tightly. His thick 8” cock stretched up Slade’s back. Korak grabbed under the hairy hunter’s arms and pulled back. Slade moaned as he was pulled backward, his waist bound to the bars. After the abuse he had endured, Slade felt like his back might break. He cried out loudly. Korak growled as he asked, “Do you remember what you said to me before we fought?”
Slade growled, “Yeah, I remember. Law of the jungle, Korak. You beat me. You can breed me.”
The jungle boy unbuckled the belt. Slade dropped to his knees. He looked up. The muscleboy’s blond hair positively glowed in the streaming moonlight, giving him a heavenly look. Slade didn’t believe in heaven or angels. He knew was that he was about to get fucked by the teen powerhouse’s massive rod and there’d be nothing heavenly about it.
Sure enough, Korak drove his cock deep down the hairy hunter’s throat on the first thrust. Slade choked on it. The naked jungle boy was charged up. He drew his hips back, giving Slade breath again. The reprieve was brief. Korak roughly slammed his thick 8” back down the kneeling man’s throat. The older muscleman had to grip Korak’s thighs for support. The powerful legs were as solid and sturdy as baobab trunks.
Slade gagged. He squeezed the mighty legs. His eyes rolled back in his head. But the hairy hunter endured. He fought his survival instincts, trusting he would not die from the jungle boy’s cock. After minutes of ruthless breath control, Korak pulled back. He had proved his superiority as a fighter and as a man. Now, he would enjoy his reward. The teen muscleboy began rhythmically face fucking the helpless hunter, who was grateful for the shift.
Korak noticed the change. Slade was moaning. He was moving his head against Korak’s tight grip on his hair. The hairy hunter was enthusiastically pleasuring Korak. Servicing him. The teen muscleboy liked it. He kept hold of Slade’s black hair, but let the kneeling muscleman have the freedom to work. Slade felt the change. He didn’t suck a lot of cocks, but he knew what felt good. He added his hands to the mix. Korak moaned and threw his head back.
The hairy hunter’s mouth focused on the tip while his hand squeezed and pumped from the base up the thick shaft. He teased the boy’s large balls, slowly getting rougher with them. The teen muscleboy loved the feeling of pulling his balls and encouraged Slade to keep doing all he was doing. Korak allowed his manhood to be owned by the kneeling muscleman, trusting that Mkuma’s threat would keep the hunter honest.
Outside the cage, the young Nagasu warrior had his own cock out. The 10” monster was primed and leaking as the muscular Black teen worked his cock as he watched. Mkuma wanted inside the cage, but knew better than to give the hunter any chance at escape. He would take his frustration out on Korak’s behind later. Right now, the jungle boy was on top, but Mkuma knew how much he also loved being on the bottom for him.
Slade suspected Korak was familiar with being a bottom for his friend. The hairy hunter slid his hand from the meaty balls between the spread legs. He tickled the naked jungle boy’s taint, getting a convulsion and higher-pitched gasp from the teen powerhouse. Slade kept his mouth and hand working the thick cock, but his mind was focused on guiding his hand to Korak’s hole. He worked slowly and cautiously until his fingers parted the muscleboy’s cheeks.
The muscular mounds were soft, unflexed. Slade split them easily. The first moment Korak noticed them was when they massaged his puckering hole. The jungle boy looked down. Slade was working his cock, and he loved it. When one finger slid inside Korak’s ass, he groaned, but did nothing to stop it. The teen muscleboy’s mouth was hanging open as he was worked.
Emboldened by the muscleboy’s reaction, Slade pushed a second finger inside him. Korak let out a long, low moan followed by a clear “yes” as he enjoyed the feelings Slade was giving him. Mkuma was Korak’s only lover and they fucked roughly like animals. This was different. This was slow. Methodical. It was better. Slade smiled to himself. He might just save his ass after all. The hairy hunter picked up the pace. Korak’s breathing sped up, as well.
Korak groaned loudly and gripped Slade’s hair tighter. The kneeling muscleman knew what was coming before the jungle boy said it. “Take my seed, Slade!” The teen powerhouse erupted, firing his load into the Slade’s mouth. The hairy hunter slurped down the ropes of cum. He was amazed by the amount of seed spewing from the jungle boy. It was like a tap, it flowed freely. Slade barely managed to keep up, but he did.
Slade worked the ass and cock until Korak was drained and beyond. The jungle boy had to pull him off. Korak’s entire body was on fire. He stumbled back against the wall. THUD! Slade sat down and stretched his legs. Kneeling like that was a younger man’s game. He managed to roll up. The hairy hunter moved in. He engulfed Korak’s mouth and fed him his own cum. The jungle boy drank in his own seed, tasting it for the first time.
The hairy hunter brushed Korak’s nipple, getting him writhing against the wall. His post-sex sensitivity was high. The blond muscleboy enjoyed the feeling, letting Slade play with his magnificent, muscular, teen body. The older muscleman studied the younger man. Tarzan was handsome, even at 18 when they met. Korak was beautiful. His smooth, flawless face. The long flowing blond hair. Slade backed off suddenly, uncomfortable with the feelings and memories stirring inside him.
Slade said firmly, “Time for you to go. Guards’ll be here any time to check on me.”
“Not yet, Slade.” Korak grinned as he rubbed his cock, “I am not done with you.”
TO BE CONTINUED IN SEVEN DAYS ON AUGUST 8, 2024 ...
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