CHAPTER VII: REBEL!
DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
TO BE CONCLUDED IN SEVEN DAYS ON AUGUST 22, 2024 …
“Korak, stop.”
The 18-year-old white jungle boy was confused, but when his best friend asked him to stop, he stopped every time. Korak trusted Mkuma’s instincts implicitly. The powerful Nagasu warrior stepped forward, grabbing his friend from behind. Korak listened but heard nothing unusual. Mkuma’s senses were better than his, but Korak knew this part of the jungle’s sounds better.
 |
| Korak |
Korak finally asked, “What is it, Mkuma? What is wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. We are far enough away, and I cannot wait any longer.”
“For what?”
The powerful 18-year-old Nagasu warrior smiled. He turned Korak into a kiss. Korak melted as he always did. The two young men had been lovers since puberty. It started with curiosity but blossomed into much more.
 |
| Mkuma |
When Mkuma broke the kiss, he explained, “Seeing you defeat Slade has fired my loins, my friend. I must have you. Here. Now.”
Korak purred, “Mkuma has seen Korak defeat many men. He has not seen me as helpless as Slade made me. I think Mkuma liked seeing Korak punished by the hunter.”
“Yes. Mkuma did.” He grinned, “But I liked seeing you victorious more. I enjoyed watching you take Slade even more than that. You took Slade. Now, I take you.”
The young jungle man rubbed against the young warrior’s body. Inside Korak’s loincloth his cock grew once again. He spread his legs to line up their pouches. Korak pressed his pouch into Mkuma’s as they kissed again. Physically, Korak was larger and stronger, but in the pouches, it was a different situation. Mkuma’s thick member surpassed Korak’s in length and girth, just more than 10” long and over 7” thick when it was at full mast.
As they made out, Mkuma unbuckled Korak’s leather belt. He had done it so many times, it required no thought. When he let go, the thick leather strap, loincloth, and sheathed knife fell to the jungle floor. Naked, Korak’s 8” cock pointed up between them. He let Mkuma take the lead. The young musclemen were experienced with each other. They always did what felt natural. Mkuma went on top most of the time, but not all the time.
At this moment, there was no doubt. No question. Korak longed for the Nagasu warrior to take him. When Mkuma roughly grabbed the young jungle man’s supple cheeks and spread them, Korak moaned in anticipation. He dropped to his knees before his dark-skinned lover. The ebony warrior ran his fingers through the kneeling white muscleboy’s long, silky blond hair as Korak stripped off Mkuma’s pouch. Freed, the black python quickly rose majestically.
Korak engulfed the 10” monster cock. He had been sucking it for years as it grew, his skills growing with it. The kneeling jungle boy knew exactly how to pleasure his best friend. He started out by licking the throbbing python from tip to base and back. He attacked the massive balls. They were too big to take one in his mouth, but the naked muscleboy was more than capable of pleasuring Mkuma with just with lips and tongue.
Using his hand and mouth, Korak shifted to the thick black rod. He worked it until he heard his friend moaning. Korak knew that sound. He knew he was bringing the ebony warrior close to climax. The kneeling jungle boy kept working, but slowed down, not wanting Mkuma to cum anywhere but in his ass. Being bred by his friend was his favorite thing to do, experiencing the thrill of having the hot white seed fill him up.
Mkuma had given up a load back in the jail, but he was fully rejuvenated and had another big load building. As he looked down on his handsome friend, the Nagasu prince was ready to go. He pushed Korak off his monster cock. The shaft glistened in the moonlight, wet from Korak’s mouth. Mkuma used his incredible power to lift Korak to his feet. He roughly spun the naked jungle boy around and pushed him towards a giant baobab.
Korak gripped the tree tightly. He thrust his behind back and up, arching his back. Mkuma came in quickly. The mighty Black warrior seized Korak’s hips. He leaned forward and kissed his friend’s neck and down his spine. The jungle boy moaned. He begged, “Please, Mkuma. Take me quickly. I need you inside me.” The Nagasu muscleboy smiled. Hearing how much the white teen powerhouse hungered for him made him more aggressive.
Mkuma stood tall. He drove his throbbing black cock between Korak’s mountainous mounds and inside his tight hole. The jungle boy moaned in pleasure and pain. The first thrust of the monster cock always made him cry out. The whimpering continued until he adjusted. The ebony warrior started pumping. Korak’s cries of pain turned to groans of pleasure. Mkuma picked up speed. They grunted in unison, completely in sync with one another.
The powerful Nagasu warrior roughly hammered his friend’s ass. Korak’s muscular back, chiseled arms, and broad shoulders flexed as he braced against the thick tree. Mkuma was relentless, giving Korak the brutal pounding he craved. The desperate heat of the two teen muscleboys broke the silence of the jungle as Mkuma ravaged the mighty blond jungle boy. The young warrior’s load rose quickly. Korak could tell and he eagerly anticipated the climax.
“Fill me with your seed! Breed me, mighty Mkuma! Please!”
Mkuma roared louder than any lion as he exploded inside Korak. The Nagasu prince kept hammering Korak’s ass with his 10” rod, sliding back and forth in the cum-filled ass. The mighty warrior reached out and grabbed hold of Korak’s luscious blond hair. He pulled back, pulling the jungle boy to standing. Korak moaned as Mkuma wrapped his arms under the blond muscleboys pecs while still deep inside him.
The shorter muscleboy kissed Korak from behind. The jungle boy said, “Thank you, my friend.”
—————
On the trail, Mkuma growled, “You are asking a lot of me, Korak.”
“I know, Mkuma. It sounds wrong, but do you disagree with me?”
The young Nagasu warrior was silent as he debated the question. After sex, Korak had admitted that believed Slade. He wanted to make the long trek south to investigate. Mkuma believed Slade, too, but as son of the chief of the Nagasu, he had to be more careful. Mkuma had softened toward the hunter, but he also knew the man’s reputation. Slade was a liar. A very good one. It all might be a trick. It could be a trick, a trap, or just a game.
Korak waited. He understood the turmoil inside his best friend. They had been together since childhood. Grown into men together. And if their plans came true, they would one day lead together. Mkuma grabbed his friend and pulled the more muscular white man forward. They stared into each other’s eyes. Korak knew his friend would stand beside him in this.
“It is not just you. I believe Slade, too. It is a risk to invade a camp, but there is nothing I will not do for you. You know that, my friend. I will make the journey to find the truth.”
“Thank you, Mkuma. But there is something else …”
—————
A SMALL COLONIAL OUTPOST. DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
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| The office + jail. |
“Slade.”
The hunter moaned. It was dark, with only moonlight illuminating his cell and the office area. It couldn’t be his men coming to free him. It must be Barnes or maybe soldiers to escort him. He was surprised that they’d have arrived so early. His mind was a fog. He didn’t usually sleep deeply, but the fight and sex with Korak, as well as the emotions of remembering his past, had exhausted the hunter.
“Slade. Wake up.”
The hairy hunter rolled over to see the shadows on two men outside his cage. Bigger than his men. And naked. No, not naked. The men moved through the dark jailhouse with ease. Slade sat up. He knew it was Korak and Mkuma. They were back. His heart beat faster, but he stayed calm. He was not a man who allowed false hope. But the jungle boys were back.
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| Slade |
The moonlight was bright enough for him to see Mkuma move over with the key. The young warrior unlocked the cage and opened the door. Slade slid out of bed and stretched. He was shirtless in his shorts, socks, and boots. Korak entered the cell. Slade rubbed his furry chest As he whispered, “We gonna go another round? I knew you couldn’t get enough of me.”
Korak ordered, “Come.” Slade took this as a positive sign. Whatever was going on had to be better than being in the cell. Korak pointed at the window. Mkuma was already through it. “The two men are in their cabin. They are sleeping, but better to leave through the back.”
Slade nodded. This was definitely looking positive for him. Korak helped him out the window. Mkuma caught him, helping him down. Slade stood tall. He didn’t bother running. These two would catch him in seconds. He would see what they wanted. From their stance to the lack of a spear or knife in his gut, Slade felt confident. He had gotten through to them after all.
Mkuma led the trio into the jungle. Slade jogged behind with Korak at his back. He realized that the jungle boys freed him, but they did not completely trust him. Of course, he did not completely trust them, either. They had not explained why they freed him or where they were headed. They moved through the jungle quickly and quietly. Slade learned to respect Mkuma’s skills. Even in daylight, he doubted any off Barnes’ men could follow them.
An hour had passed before they finally stopped. Mkuma waited, chiseled arms crossed over his thick chest. He was letting Korak take the lead now, which made Slade wonder if they were in agreement about this. Korak said, “Slade. You will take us to this mine. You will prove your words to us.”
Slade grinned, “So, you finally see the light.” The shirtless hunter put his hands on his hips, feeling confident, “My gear’s at my camp. We gotta head there first.”
“No. You have all you need.”
“I need a gun. Shirt. Food. Water.”
Mkuma stated firmly, “I have my spear. Korak, his knife. We will protect and feed you. We do not need shirts. You do not need a shirt.”
Slade looked at the two muscleboys. They are probably the best protection he could have. He said, “I need a compass. Map.”
Korak frowned, “You said this place was due south and that you had personally seen it.”
“Well, yeah, but …”
“If it is as large as you say, We can find it.”
Slade nodded, realizing that there was no arguing with them. They’d never let him get to his camp and meet back up with his men. He acquiesced, “Okay, boys, let’s go. It’s a long hike ahead of us.”
Mkuma warned, “Do not try to escape us.”
“Escape you? That’s the last thing I wanna do. I’m gonna show you.”
—————
CHAPTER VIII: BARNES!
TWO WEEKS LATER.
KORAK AND TARZAN’S TREEHOUSE. DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
“This is big trouble, Boy. I must speak with Commissioner Barnes.”
“But the papers had his name on them. Can we trust him, Tarzan?”
“Of course. He is our friend. He will not allow this jungle to be destroyed and he has the power to stop it. Whatever you saw can be explained. The papers were likely forged. Knowing Commissioner Barnes is here, the company lied hoping he would never find out.” Tarzan sighed. “You should not have trusted or freed Slade, but this is a bigger problem.”
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| Tarzan |
Korak sighed, “All right. Let us go speak with Barnes together.”
Tarzan put his hand on Korak’s thick shoulder. “No. You wait here. Rest from your long journey. I will go alone. Barnes trusts me. You are still ‘Boy’ to him.”
Before Korak could object, Tarzan ran towards the trees. He leapt, grabbing a vine. He ascended the thick trunk then began his journey. Tarzan could swing through the treetops like a spider monkey. The young jungle man frowned. He trusted Tarzan. But he did not trust Barnes. And as much as he loved Tarzan, the man was naive. And submissive, according to Slade. He trusted the hunter’s instincts more than his friend’s on this matter.
Korak sprinted to the trees. He veered to the right. He would take a different route to Barnes’ cabin. He doubted that Tarzan would go full speed. If Korak went full out, he knew that he could beat his friend there comfortably, giving him enough time to hide. He was right. The young jungle man arrived ahead of his friend. He picked a perfect spot in the bushes. Close enough to watch and eavesdrop but virtually invisible.
—————
THE COMMISSIONER’S CABIN. DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
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| Barnes cabin. One mile from the outpost. |
Unaware that he was being watched, Tarzan approached the cabin. He stepped onto Commissioner Barnes’ porch.
The magnificent jungle man wore only four things: a brown leather loincloth tied at the sides, a thick brown leather belt with a brown sleeve for his hunting knife, a quiver with a dozen arrows and a bow sling over his shoulder and worn brown leather boots with thin strips wrapped around to hold them up. Tarzan methodically began stripping. He removed the bow and arrows first, hanging them on a hook outside the door. Next, he unbuckled his belt, setting it and his knife on a wooden bench.
Tarzan’s posture changed as he stripped. His shoulders slumped and his head bowed. The Lord of the Jungle removed his loincloth next. He folded the soft leather and neatly placed it on top of his knife. Lastly, he untied and unwrapped the thin straps holding his boots in place. He moved slowly as he worked, removing the straps one by one. The boots slid down easily as they fell away.
Naked, the mighty jungle man breathed in and out then slowly six times. Even his chiseled stomach looked less impressive as he transformed from proud warrior to slouching muscle man. He slowly lowered himself to his knees. The mighty jungle man lifted his hand and knocked three times on the lower part of the door. He locked his thumbs behind his back.
Tarzan waited. When the door finally opened, Commissioner Barnes stood there, shirtless in white pants that were tucked into shiny, freshly cleaned brown leather boots. The older man was physically impressive, earning a body much younger than his years thanks to a natural diet and regular exercise during his decades in the jungle. He was much shorter and leaner than the jungle man, but sculpted with a firm chest, dusted with black fur. His wrinkled face was hawkish, with a white mustache and beard, dark eyebrows, and cruel sneer.
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| Commissioner Barnes. |
“What do you want, monkey?”
Tarzan leaned forward. He lovingly kissed each of the brown boots, using his lips and tongue to bathe the jungle-worn leather. When he sat back up on his heels, the apeman said, “I am sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I need to speak with you.”
The older man grunted. “Unless this is about how Slade escaped a couple of weeks ago and made his way to raid a mining camp, I don’t want to hear it, monkey. That bastard has caused trouble for me long enough. I’m going to find him and lock him up for good this time.”
The naked apeman silently nodded his bowed head without ever taking his eyes from the shiny brown leather boots, now wet with his saliva.
Barnes stared at the submissive muscleman. “So, my pet monkey knows something useful.” Another nod. Barnes stepped aside, “Take your place. I will take out my frustrations on you while you surrender your secrets.”
The mighty jungle man didn’t reply. He simply ambled forward, crouched on his knuckles and the balls of his feet like a chimpanzee into the small cabin. The door closed behind him. Korak moved closer to a window as Tarzan moved all the way to the corner of the room. He climbed atop a wooden sawhorse, padded and covered with a lion’s pelt. The naked ape man laid atop it lengthwise, his head and ass hanging off at opposite ends. He gripped handles at the top end and rested his knees on ledges at the bottom.
The strongest man in the jungle obediently waited. Commissioner Barnes admired his pet’s plump behind. He would always remember the first time he took it. Tarzan. Lord of the Jungle. What a cruel joke. Barnes had admired the apeman since he was a lanky teenager, but as he filled out, Tarzan became even more beautiful. A perfect man. Muscular. Handsome. Strong.
Submissive.
Of course, Barnes didn’t know that at first. Even as a teen, Tarzan came across as an apex predator. He led the apes. He commanded animals. The tribes respected him as a great warrior. His strength, bravery, and skills were legendary. The skinny older man never thought he would own him. And Tarzan was still the same powerful presence. Outwardly. Every human and creature in the jungle feared him, except for Barnes.
And Slade.
Yes, Slade. The man who tamed Tarzan. Barnes gave credit where credit was due. It was Slade that first broke Tarzan, fucking the alpha right out of him. When the apeman was taken right out from under Slade’s dick, it was Barnes who did it. The tamed jungle man was so desperate and confused. It was so easy for Barnes to lure him into a trap. Confuse his mind. Send him away to the infamous Master Saad for reprogramming.
When Tarzan was freed, his need for an alpha was fully transferred from the ‘evil Slade’ to the ‘good Barnes’. The ambitious bureaucrat gave Tarzan what he needed and in return, he gained an essential tool. He now owned this jungle, even if no one understood it. He was rich as the companies paid him handsomely for going ‘above and beyond’. Barnes made it possible for vast areas of the jungle to be harvested for the resources. He handled any opposition in London or here. Every success only made the older man greedier and crueler.
The jungle man was his greatest weapon. He acted as the colonial government’s voice to the tribes. Tarzan was trusted. When he unknowingly repeated Barnes’ lies, everyone believed him. And when he was sent against Barnes’ enemies, the jungle man never failed. All except Slade. Barnes allowed Slade to operate as ‘the enemy’ to keep everyone focused on something. Now, he was thinking he let Slade live too long.
It was time to end the charade. With this recent attack on the mining company, Slade and his band of troublemakers had stepped over the line. Slade was one of the last remaining impediments to complete domination and he had to go. In this case, though, his pet monkey was useless. Barnes would never dare test Tarzan’s loyalty, fearing Slade might enthrall him again. The apeman was ordered to stay far away and that would continue.
Boy would be his new weapon.
After his success with the jungle man, Barnes started preparing Tarzan’s replacement years ago. A male child born to large and sturdy Norwegians. He placed this boy with the apeman as a child. Barnes even named him ‘Boy’ as a sign of his future submission. He guessed Boy would grow up to be physically formidable based on his parentage. He was raised by Tarzan to train him in the ways of the jungle and teach him to trust Barnes explicitly.
Boy’s recent success against Slade’s men showed that he was a worthy successor. The only problem was that Boy had not been broken. This ‘Korak’ nonsense was proof of that. And his friendship with the young Nagasu warrior was a problem, too. Barnes knew that until Boy was kneeling beside Tarzan, he was only a potential weapon. Worse, he was also a potential threat. It was time for Boy to be captured, sent to Saad, and re-trained. All Barnes had to do was give the word.
However, today Barnes had other concerns. Slade was up to something. He and his men had not done any damage, except for a few bumps and bruises to the company guards, but he was snooping for something. Knowledge was power. If the tribes learned the full extent of the company’s plans, it would ruin everything. This entire region was finally going to be leveled, starting with the southern quadrant. It had to happen fast. It had to be brutal. And it had to be a complete surprise.
Barnes pulled on black leather gloves as he moved in behind Tarzan. He slapped the large muscular rump. SMACK! The muscleman jolted with a start as he had been trained to do. Barnes liked his slaves responsive. Sometimes he used the paddle on the apeman, but today, the commissioner wanted a more direct experience. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Barnes relentlessly tanned the smooth behind, spanking it red with handprints.
The older white man rubbed his crotch, his cock growing as he humiliated his pet monkey. Despite owning Tarzan for 17 years, Barnes never grew tired of punishing him. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! As he wailed away, making the rump tender, he bellowed, “DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TRANSMISSIONS I HAVE RECEIVED FROM THE HOME OFFICE? HOW MANY QUESTIONS I HAD TO ANSWER?”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“The company is questioning my leadership! My bosses are threatening to replace me! They wondered IF I WAS TOO OLD FOR THE JOB! THE COMPANY IS OFFERING TO TAKE OVER! SAVE THE GOVERNMENT MONEY! Save themselves money is more like it. They think this is their chance to get out of paying their stipend to me! DOUBLE CROSSING ASSHOLES! I should burn the whole thing down! Tell the tribes what’s planned. BRING WAR TO THE JUNGLE! ALL BECAUSE OF SLADE!”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Barnes calmed down. He walked in front of Tarzan. The older man knelt as he lifted the jungle man’s chin. Barnes grinned cruelly when he saw tears streaming down the muscle beast’s handsome face. He thought, “Crying. Just from my hands. I still got it.” Barnes leaned in and ran his tongue under Tarzan’s eyes, drinking in the salty tears. He breathed in slowly.
The commissioner said, “I feel much better.”
Tarzan replied, “Thank you, Sir.”
Barnes moved back in behind Tarzan’s red ass. The commissioner fished out his 6” long and 6” around uncut cock. He was fully hard. The psychological thrill of making the mightiest man in the jungle cry had his cock charged and leaking. With no attempt to make things easy for Tarzan, Barnes plunged in. The apeman howled as he was roughly penetrated, empowering Barnes even more.
Tarzan was kept tight by his Sir. His ass, like his mind, belonged to Barnes and the commissioner was the only man allowed to fuck it. The older man began savagely pounding his slave’s hole. The muscle beast moaned and writhed, giving his Sir the show he demanded. Tears continued to stream down Tarzan’s face as he whimpered in pain.
Barnes brutally fucked his pet monkey, pretending Tarzan was all his enemies. The apeman paid for their perceived transgressions. The older man kept going until he was sweating and gasping for breath. He felt his load rising. There was only one place for it. Inside his slave. Barnes roared as he conquered Tarzan again! The jungle man’s ass was filled with his owner’s cum by the time Barnes withdrew.
The commissioner backed off. He regulated his breathing before tucking his cock back inside his white government-issued pants. He took his time, getting some water for himself (none for Tarzan). When Barnes sat down, he said, “Come, boy.” Tarzan rolled off the padded sawhorse. He ambled to his master and resumed his kneeling position before him.
“All right, monkey. Tell me your story. And it better be good.”
“Yes, Sir.” Tarzan said, “It was Slade who were at the mining camp.” Barnes was about to scream. He knew that! Then his pet monkey dropped the bomb. “But not his men.” The commissioner raised his eyebrows. The apeman said, “It was Korak and Mkuma. They freed Slade. They went with him to the camp.”
The older man’s eyes went wide and his face red. “What? What are you telling me?”
Tarzan explained everything he knew. Barnes lied and denied. Tarzan believed every word. The apeman had no choice. He had been programmed to believe everything Barnes told him. The commissioner ordered Tarzan not to reveal any of this meeting. “Tell Korak I wasn’t here.” It took all Barnes strength not to take his fury out on Tarzan again, but he knew he could not. He needed his pet monkey to be near in case Korak or Slade came after him. Or the Nagasu.
This was a potential disaster.
Tarzan was ordered away. Barnes picked up the radio. He tuned in to a specific frequency. A soft male voice answered. Barnes said, “Tell Saad that it is time for the jungle boy project. It’s an emergency. This one is now a problem that cannot wait a moment longer.”
The voice asked, “Tell who?”
Barnes’ face turned red. He didn’t have time for games, but replied, “Please tell Master Saad that -”
The voice chuckled, “Yes, I heard the rest. Finally. The Master has been waiting ten years for your next great jungle man. You should have let The Master have him when he was a child.”
“I told YOUR master that I needed him strong and capable.” Barnes sighed, “And I hoped that Tarzan’s training would result in a submission to me naturally.”
“And how did that work?” The man laughed at Barnes’ silence. The voice said, “It’s all right. From the sad desperation in your voice, you don’t need to say it. You were foolish to doubt The Master. He knows all. Now, you have a problem and only The Master Saad can save you. When can he expect this Boy?”
“I will need a pickup. Immediately. Half dozen of Saad’s — Master Saad’s best. Make it ten. Unlike Tarzan, this one has not been tamed. It’ll take a lot more work than Tarzan. Master Saad’s starting with an unruly, independent teenager, not just transferring him from being Slade’s boy into my pet monkey. Boy is smarter, stronger, and fiercer. He will be the biggest challenge I’ve ever sent to him — Master Saad.”
Saad’s man let out an effeminate purr, “Mmm. Excellent. Your failure is a blessing. The Master will be pleased to have an unspoiled jungle boy.”
“I know. He — Master Saad will appreciate this one. And you can tell Master Saad that he has my permission to do whatever it takes.”
“The Master needs no man’s permission.”
Barnes snarled, “Listen to me, slave. I don’t appreciate your tone. You are not Saad. You are nothing but his bitch. Tell your Master to get here as fast as possible. Spare no expense. And tell him that if there is any doubt at all, I don’t want ‘Boy’ back here. Keep him. Sell him. Kill him. I don’t care. He must be perfectly tamed or permanently gone. Nothing in between.”
“Understood. I will inform The Master immediately.” The voice said, “But now you will listen to me. I am a slave to The Master Saad. All men belong to Saad. With this pathetic begging plea, have no doubt that you are now owned by The Master and by proxy, you belong to His voice. You will speak to me as you would speak to him. You will obey His agents in all things. Do you understand or will you require education upon their arrival, slave?”
Barnes sucked in his pride. “Understood.”
“Is that how a slave responds to the designated Voice of The Master Saad? Perhaps we will conduct two pickups.”
Barnes shuddered at the thought. He said, “I apologize, Sir. Understood, Sir.” A little humiliation was a small price to prevent his entire life from falling apart. Barnes was desperate. He admitted, “This slave belongs to Master Saad and will obey His agents.”
“Good boy.”
—————
CHAPTER IX: SURPRISE!
SLADE’S CAMP.
“Don’t.”
“Slade, listen to me,”
“No. You listen to me, Korak. We got more important problems to deal with. I get you wanna defend your daddy but leave it alone.”
Korak held his ground, “Listen to me. This is very important. Tarzan did not betray you, Slade.”
“You’re just gonna ignore me? I’m outta here.”
Slade started to walk away, but Korak grabbed his arm firmly. “You will listen to me, Slade.” The hairy hunter looked at the hand on his arm. He wanted to attack, but he didn’t want to send Korak away. Mkuma stepped forward, sensing Slade might strike. That helped calm the older muscleman down. He wanted no part of fighting both his allies. He’d worked too hard to get them on board.
Korak said, “Tarzan didn’t run away from you all those years ago. Tarzan was taken. Against his will. He was taken by Barnes. To a man. They changed him somehow. Barnes calls Tarzan his pet monkey. Right to his face. The commissioner treats him like an animal and Tarzan takes it. He obeys every command without thought. It was awful. It was all I could do not to attack.”
Slade was shocked. He asked, “You saying Barnes brainwashed him somehow?”
“I do not know that word. I saw Tarzan kneel. I saw him crawl. Be used. After he left, I heard Barnes call a man named Master Saad. The man who turned Tarzan. Now, that man is sending ten men to capture me. Take me. They want to do the same to me. Train me to obey Barnes. If they tame me, I will kneel before Barnes. If they do not, they will sell me or kill me.”
Mkuma growled, “Barnes will die by my spear if he comes after you. I swear it.”
Slade turned away from the young jungle man to hide his reaction. He whispered, “Saad.” The rugged hunter knew the name, if not the man. He knew the reputation. People called it science, others magic. But Saad turned men into mindless slaves. A wave of empathy for Tarzan washed over the years of anger and hurt inside Slade. A tear formed thinking about the hell the jungle man must have endured. The hell he was still enduring, not having control of himself. Regret almost overwhelmed Slade, but an intense desire for revenge won the day.
Slade turned back, “You won’t have to kill Barnes, Mkuma. I’m going to kill him first.”
The three men talked more. Korak said, “I must go home. To Tarzan. I have to reason with him. Once he realizes what has been done, he will be able to fight it and break free.”
Slade said. “No. No way. From what you said, Tarzan’s in too deep. He already betrayed you, kid. Ran right to Barnes and ratted you out. You confront him and he’ll come at you.”
“Tarzan would never attack me.”
“Not willingly. But he won’t have a choice if Saad owns his mind. Tarzan will do whatever was put in his head. Could be he was told to kill anyone who knows. Maybe kill anyone who’s a threat to Saad. Or Barnes. I don’t know, but I’ve heard Saad can make a man do anything he wants, even betray his own family. It’s too risky. You’re staying here.”
Korak looked at his friend for support, but Mkuma took the hairy hunter’s side, “Slade is right. You must stay away from Tarzan. Come with me. The Nagasu will keep you safe.”
Slade shook his head, “These ten men. They’ll be ruthless. You got women and children at your place. They’ll slaughter them all. Use them as hostages. Whatever it takes to get to Korak. He’s the only one they won’t kill. I got men here with guns. Used to danger. And this place won’t be as easy to find. Barnes knows about your relationship. No, Korak needs to stay here.”
“You don’t have enough men, Slade. We have warriors. We know the jungle. We have very sharp arrows and spears. In our hands, they are just as deadly as your guns.”
“Yeah, we’ll be outnumbered, but we know this area. We picked it because it’s tough to find and easy to defend. I get how you’re feeling, Mkuma. Believe me, I get it. But don’t think like a kid in love. Think like the future Chief of the Nagasu.”
Mkuma wanted to protect his friend, but Slade was right. He couldn’t bring this danger to his people. His tribe would be safer if they were left out of this fight. The young ebony muscleboy reluctantly replied, “I will agree. They have ten men? I will bring back ten Nagasu warriors to help protect you. They will help guard your jungle. These men will never reach you, my friend.”
Slade nodded, “Sounds good, Mkuma. We’ll appreciate the backup. Once you’re back and we know that Korak is safe, we can figure out next steps to deal with Barnes.”
Mkuma left after giving his friend a deep kiss. Slade began to strategize. But neither asked Korak if he agreed with their plan. He did not. The brave young jungle boy would not hide. When no eyes were on him, Korak slipped into the jungle. He would save Tarzan. No man could turn the apeman against his ‘Boy’. It was impossible. Korak was sure of it.
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KORAK AND TARZAN’S TREEHOUSE. DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
“Korak! Where have you been? I ordered you to stay here and rest. You are out of breath. And you look frantic. You should have listened to me.”
“Tarzan, I -”
“Here. Drink some water.” The apeman handed Korak a water sack. “I did not see Barnes. He was out, but I searched his cabin and found no papers. I believe he is innocent. The papers you saw are fakes.”
Korak did not drink the water. He hated not trusting Tarzan, but the man he considered his older brother was lying to his face. The water could be poisoned. Anything could be possible. The jungle boy set the sack down. Tarzan was surprised. Korak said, “Tarzan. You must listen to me. I am your friend. You raised me. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Korak. I always want what is best for you. I insist that you drink. You must stay watered.”
“I cannot drink this, Tarzan.”
A soft, sweet male voice spoke in an almost musical voice, “He’s not buying what you’re selling, monkey. He knows you’re trying to trick him.” Korak turned, shocked to see an attractive young blond man emerging from the foliage. “You must be Boy. Hi, I’m a friend of Tarzan’s. People call me The Kid. I wasn't expecting you so soon, but I'm happy to see you. I’m here to help you get your mind right.”
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| The Kid |
The Kid was beautiful. He looked no older than Korak. The jungle boy was immediately enthralled by him and his smooth, gentle voice. 6’ tall and 160-lbs, his lean body was smooth, muscled, and flawless. The invader was shirtless in an open, small, brown jacket with the sleeves pushed up his shapely forearms. He wore black pants and knee-high black boots that laced up in front. On his hands, he had black fingerless gloves.
Korak stared at the smiling figure. He felt no threat from him. But he knew there was. Korak felt confused. Part of him screamed that the innocent-looking young man was dangerous, but something else made him suppress those thoughts. The jungle boy knew something was happening, but he could not figure out what. He focused. Saad’s men could not be here. Not this fast.
There was an odor in the air. Korak had missed it due to his concern for Tarzan. Now, he knew that it was different. Not his jungle. He sniffed. It was wrong. The Kid smiled and said sweetly, “You have such a good nose, Boy. And smart. I’m so proud of you for figuring it out. Tarzan didn't. Keep taking all those sniffs that you’re taking. I put it out here for Tarzan, but it's good for you, too. The deeper the sniff, the better you'll feel.”
Korak backed up, “Stay away from me.”
“Why? Big, strong boy like you. Afraid of me?"
"I am not afraid. I am warning you."
"You remind me of Tarzan when he was your age. We had so much fun, didn’t we Tarzan?” As the jungle man nodded, Korak shook his head. There was no way that this boy was old enough to have been one of the ones who kidnapped Tarzan. The Kid strutted forward like he owned the jungle. The blond stranger snapped his fingers and uttered a sweet but confusing series of clicks and grunts, “!@#$*%.”
Korak didn’t recognize it as language, but Tarzan must have. The jungle man dropped to a crouch and ambled to The Kid. Tarzan knelt as The Kid gripped the muscleman’s thick brown hair. Korak was sickened by seeing Tarzan submit again, this time to the lean young man. But part of him felt confused enough to want it for himself. As much as he knew something was in the air, it didn’t help him fight the reaction.
“Look how happy Tarzan is. Don’t you want to be happy, Boy? Don’t you want peace?”
The jungle boy stopped retreating. He tensed and tightened up. No smell would overpower him. He was Korak. Whether he was 18 or 80, Korak was confident that he could defeat this angelic looking boy. At Korak’s aggressive stance, The Kid frowned, “You’re mean.” He gave the crouching muscle beast’s long brown hair a cruel pull, “Shame on you, Tarzan. You were supposed to teach him to be a good boy.”
Tarzan whimpered, “I am sorry, Master. I failed you.”
“Don’t be sorry, slave.” The Kid released Tarzan’s mane. He pointed at Korak and ordered, “Go. Fix your mistake.”
Tarzan suddenly charged at the shocked Korak.
TO BE CONCLUDED IN SEVEN DAYS ON AUGUST 22, 2024 …
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