CHAPTER X: ATTACK!
BELOW KORAK AND TARZAN’S TREEHOUSE.
DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
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| Tarzan |
“TARZAN! STOP!”
Korak’s plea did nothing to override The Kid’s command. Tarzan charged at the shocked muscleboy with the ferocity of a rabid lion. The muscular blond jungle boy could not believe his friend and mentor would attack him, but it was happening. Korak’s jungle instincts kicked in. Tarzan leapt at him like an ape. The teen powerhouse turned and kicked just as Slade had done to him. It worked here, too. The apeman flew right into it. CRACK!
Tarzan’s head snapped back, and he fell to the side, stunned. As the 18-year-old muscleboy stood ready to fight, he did not follow through. He could not do it. Slade’s words of warning echoed in Korak’s head. Tarzan was brainwashed. That meant that he was not in control. It meant that the jungle man would obey his orders, no matter what. Even if he did not want to, there was no way for his friend to overcome whatever evil this Master Saad had done.
Korak knew that he had to fight.
Tarzan rose, shaking out his head. He looked furious as he drew his knife. The Kid called out, “No weapons. Take him alive, monkey.” On the order, the brown-haired jungle man sheathed his weapon. Korak felt only slightly safer. However, he realized that fighting Tarzan was a waste of time. His friend and mentor was not the real threat. No order to fight, no fight.
Korak turned to The Kid. The cute, lightweight blond’s eyes went wide as he was targeted. The jungle boy made it only three steps before he felt a big paw wrap around his ankle. Tarzan! The older muscleman tripped his friend. Tarzan growled, “Submit, Boy! All men belong to Master Saad!” Korak rolled and kicked out with his other foot. He caught Tarzan in the temple. WHACK! Korak rolled away. When he looked up, to where The Kid was, he saw no one.
Looking back at Tarzan, Korak saw that The Kid had casually skipped behind the apeman, keeping the bigger jungle man between him and Korak. Now, the younger jungle boy really had no choice but to fight his mentor. His brother. The two men crouched. Tarzan growled. Korak charged in. Tarzan lunged to grab him, but the muscleboy ducked. He grabbed Tarzan around the waist. In one smooth move, Korak lifted and flipped Tarzan onto his back. WHOMP!
Korak hesitated about what to do next. He should strike, but hurting Tarzan was wrong. Unfortunately for Korak, the older muscleman didn’t feel the same way about him. Not now when his conditioning had been reactivated. Tarzan rolled and lunged, tackling Korak down to the jungle floor. He swung his fist at Korak’s head. The jungle boy barely managed to block the blow. Tarzan brought his other forearm down onto Korak’s thick pecs. WHOMP! OOF!
The Kid taunted Korak, “Only one way out, Boy. And that’s for you to beat the monkey. See, those the years you’ve spent with Tarzan? All a lie. He was working for Master Saad. Keeping you in line for this day. Tarzan’s never been your friend. He’s only been your babysitter.”
The enraged teen powerhouse bucked up, throwing the apeman off him. They scrambled up to face one another again. Tarzan lunged. Korak leapt to jump over him, but the mighty apeman caught him around the waist. ARGH! The older jungle man pulled Korak into a bearhug. The power of his friend was immediately crippling for the teen powerhouse. The blond muscleboy cried out as his body was crushed.
Against the power of Tarzan’s power, Korak’s breathing became labored. He writhed in the jungle man’s tight grip. The blond muscleboy knew he had no choice. He swung his arms like clubs, striking Tarzan across the head. WHACK! CRACK! THWAK! The apeman lost the bearhug, stumbling back and shaking out his head. Korak wasted no time. He leapt at Tarzan, tackling him to the ground. SPLAT! BOOM! Korak pinned Tarzan’s wrists to the jungle floor.
“Tarzan, please! Focus! Fight against whatever they did to you!”
The only response Korak got was a roar before he was thrown off. Tarzan rolled at him, quickly tackling Korak down, their positions reversed. The two jungle beasts wrestled for control on the ground, dirt and moss covering their smooth tanned flesh. Their loincloths slipped and shifted in the struggle. Tarzan was stronger, but Korak was faster and more flexible. The two were proving to be more evenly matched than The Kid expected, but that only made his cock grow.
The Kid rubbed his crotch, “Such a feisty feline. Yes, this one does have fire. Only 18 and he’s already so powerful. Maybe you did something right after all, monkey. He’ll be a real prize for The Master.” He told Korak, “Under The Master’s hand, you will become stronger than ever, Boy. You will become our greatest weapon. Embrace the honor.”
Korak ignored the taunts. The teen powerhouse focused on the fight of his life. He was sweating and gasping. The jungle boy was aware that he was breathing in the strange smell. The one that clouded his mind. It was yet another challenge for him to overcome. The two men fired fists. THUD! POW! THUD! Their muscular bodies were solid, absorbing the short striking blows. They tried to grasp the other’s limbs, but neither could sustain any kind of control.
While he was holding his own, Korak knew that he was playing defensively. Tarzan was controlling the struggle. Moving him into position. The apeman’s time on top was increasing the longer they rolled around. They were successfully protecting their faces and heads, but their bodies were scratched from the ground. Their smooth, perfect physiques were bruised and red from the close in body punches. And they were both drenched in sweat.
Tarzan finally managed to power through Korak’s defenses. He got the teen powerhouse turned around and locked on a choke hold from behind. Korak cried out. The jungle man rolled them over so that he was on his back with Korak on top. The older jungle man wrapped his legs around Korak’s waist and tightened up on a body scissors. The jungle boy struggled, desperately turning and shifting to keep Tarzan from finishing him off.
Korak knew that he was one wrong move from losing.
The Kid clapped, “Ooh, look at those beautiful muscles all stretched out! You will be everyone’s favorite slave, Boy. I might take you here and now once Tarzan finishes you.”
The teen powerhouse squeezed one hand in between his neck and the apeman’s bicep, fighting to keep the pressure off. With his other hand, Korak reached back. He was muscular, but also had the flexibility of youth. The muscleboy was able to grab hold of Tarzan’s long brown hair. Korak held tight on the thick mane. He crunched his abs and sat up. The jungle boy was only able to move Tarzan a bit. He had to hope it was enough.
Korak threw himself back with all his strength. Tarzan’s head hit the jungle floor and the back of the muscleboy’s head hit the apeman in the face. THUD! CRACK! The double head attack stunned the older muscleman. Korak was able to disengage. He rolled to freedom, crawling with his head down as he tried to focus. He wanted to turn and fight, but the choke and body scissors had taken too much out of him.
The Kid laughed, “Golly, that’s a splendid behind, Boy. Strip his loincloth, monkey. Give me a better look at what we’re getting.”
Before the teen powerhouse could react, Tarzan was on him. Korak struggled. He escaped, because the apeman followed orders. He grabbed and pulled the muscleboy’s soft leather loincloth. It came loose, leaving Korak naked wearing only his belt, knife, and boots. Korak scrambled to his feet to face Tarzan. The older jungle man tossed the leather to The Kid, who caught it and smelled it deeply.
“You smell wonderful, Boy. And look at you. Beautiful manhood nested in that soft blond fur. Thick meat. Large balls. Mountainous behind. The Master will want to keep you naked. His own tamed alpha jungle boy. Maybe even use you as a breeding stud.”
Korak didn’t care about being naked, but he did care about his freedom. The teen powerhouse focused back on Tarzan, who was crouched, looking for another opening to attack. Korak moved cautiously, his impressive manhood dangling. Tarzan charged in again. Korak let him get in close. The jungle boy grabbed hold and rolled backwards. Using Tarzan’s momentum against him, the blond muscleboy flipped his friend. Tarzan landed hard on his back. SPLAT!
The jungle boy did not hesitate this time. He used the roll to somersault backwards into a handstand. The agile young buck came down, driving his knee into Tarzan’s chiseled midsection! WHOMP! The force of 220-lbs of jungle boy muscle crashing down broke through the thick muscle wall. Tarzan crunched up, coughing. Korak met the jungle man’s rising head with a swinging elbow to the temple. CRACK! Tarzan’s head snapped sideways.
The brown-haired jungle man rolled onto his side, stunned. Korak knew that for him to win, Tarzan had to be unconscious. The teen powerhouse grabbed a handful of his friend’s thick hair and dragged him up to his feet. Korak grabbed Tarzan around the waist in a reverse bearhug. He squeezed the jungle man hard. Tarzan groaned. He tried to pry the muscleboy’s arms apart, but Korak was too strong.
Korak squeezed harder. Tarzan coughed as his torso began to collapse against the mighty teen’s strength. In desperation, the apeman swung his right elbow back. WHAM! Tarzan’s shoulders were so broad, and the hold was so tight that he could only hit Korak’s bowling ball shoulder. The elbow bounced off harmlessly. Tarzan twisted to try the left elbow. BAM! He achieved the same result — no damage.
Even though the moves were unsuccessful, the teen powerhouse knew he could not hold Tarzan like this forever. The young muscleboy used his tremendous strength to throw Tarzan up and back in a belly-to-back suplex. Tarzan landed hard on the back of his neck and shoulders. CRASH! Korak rolled out from under him. When he reached hands and knees, Korak suddenly felt a stinging sensation in his right buttocks. ZIP!
Korak reached back and pulled a dart out of the thick, round muscle. He looked at The Kid who held a gun in his hand and had a smirk on his face. “This is taking far too long. Face it, Boy, you’re too good. Better than any of us expected. You’ve fought through the mist. You’ve overcome the big monkey. Who knows, you might even be able to take me.”
“I will crush you!”
The Kid smirked, “Maybe, but let’s not find out.”
Behind Korak, Tarzan was up. He grabbed the distracted teen powerhouse in a full nelson. ARGH! The muscleboy screamed, “NO!” Korak struggled against his friend, but his strength was too much. The Kid moved in closer. Korak kicked at him, but the lean blond swatted the kicks away. He moved in close, rubbing Korak’s abs. The jungle boy felt the effects of whatever drug he had been shot with. The Kid ran his fingers up, feeling Korak’s powerful body.
“Lovely. Just lovely.” The black gloved hand moved up to Korak’s pained face. “And handsome, too. How would you feel about wearing a bowtie? Do you even know what a bowtie is?” The helpless teen powerhouse growled. The Kid laughed, “I’m teasing, silly Boy. What you feel doesn’t matter anymore.”
The Kid traces Korak’s lips. The jungle boy tries to bite it, but he has to mobility in the crushing full nelson. “Naughty. Careful or those teeth might just have to come out.” The Kid lowered his hand to molest Korak’s manhood. He gripped the thick cock and studied it. he peeled back the foreskin and frowned. “This will definitely have to go. Master Saad insists men be circumcised.” The Kid weighed the heavy balls, “Very nice. Definite bull potential.”
Korak struggled with all he had. The Kid backed up and watched the furious escape attempt. Tarzan’s fingers began to separate. The lean blond’s eyebrows rose as he wondered just how strong this new slave was. He wasn’t worried. Just curious. He hoped that The Master would allow him to test this one. The strength and stress tests would be fascinating. Tarzan managed to reassert control, and the teen powerhouse went limp in the full nelson, his energy drained.
“Well done, monkey. Hold him. He’s quite the beast, fighting through the pheromone mist. Matching you. Fighting through the first tranquilizer. This was a fine audition, but all good things must come to an end. We have a plane to catch.” The Kid triumphantly held up the syringe, “One dose of this will end his resistance.”
Suddenly, a whip struck The Kid’s gloved hand, forcing him to drop the syringe. CRACK! OW! The Kid held his hand and looked angrily to the source. Tarzan threw Korak to the ground, focusing on defending his Master. The Kid, Tarzan, and Korak all looked forward. It was Slade. As the hairy hunter discarded his whip and raised his gun, Tarzan positioned himself in front of The Kid while the groggy Korak fought to stay conscious.
Slade aimed, but he knew he was stymied. To shoot The Kid, he would need to go through his brainwashed ex-lover. Just as Korak could not give the fight his all, Slade could not pull the trigger. Korak suddenly found new energy. He dove forward and rolled, coming up beside Slade. The Kid drew his gun. Korak wobbled in front of Slade, fighting to keep his feet.
The hairy hunter asked, “What’re doing, Korak?”
Korak rose, summoning his adrenaline, “He cannot risk hitting me anymore than you can shoot Tarzan. His Master Saad would have his hide if he resorted to murder this quickly. Isn’t that right, Kid?”
The Kid smiled sweetly, “Clever, pup. You’re a naughty boy, but a clever one. Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t kill Slade anyway. You’re both on the list for capture.” He tapped Tarzan on the back, “Slave, back up with me. Keep me safe. Take a bullet or knife for me.” The two men moved into the jungle. “We’ll be seeing you, boys. Next time, there won’t be anyone to save either of you.”
Slade and Korak walked only twenty feet before the teen powerhouse’s adrenaline ran out. He slumped and stumbled, caught by Slade, who struggled to keep him propped up. The drugged jungle boy slurred, “We have to go after them!”
“You’re in no shape, kid. We need to escape.” The hairy hunter growled, “What did you think you were doing? Do you realize you almost got yourself captured. And me, too.”
“Tarzan … in trouble.”
“Tarzan’s been in trouble for 17 years. He can wait to be rescued another few hours. We’re going back to my camp to regroup. Mkuma and his men are going there. No one to save us here.”
“No. Can’t lose. Tarzan. Must find.”
Slade sighed as he led Korak into the jungle, “I don’t need to follow him for that. They’re going to Barnes’ place.”
“What?”
“I saw parachutes. You must be a big deal. Saad flew his men here. Saved days of hiking. I knew they’d come after you, but not like this. Surprised they didn’t all come here, but luckily, they only sent that kid.” Slade snarked, “Of course, one kid was almost enough, wasn’t it?”
Korak moaned, ashamed. He admitted, “Kid only came … for Tarzan, not me.”
The jungle boy staggered. Slade couldn’t hold him and Korak went down. Slade knew Saad’s men would come looking. They had to go, but Slade also knew he couldn’t drag 220-lbs of muscleboy through the jungle alone. He debated what to do. The optimist in him said to hide. The realist knew they would be found. Especially with Tarzan on the other side. They needed help. He made a choice and hoped The Kid was right that he was also on the no-kill list.
The hairy hunter pulled out a flare gun from his pocket, loading a blue charge. He fired it into the air, trusting that the wetness of the jungle would keep the whole place from catching on fire. He’d never used the signal before, but desperate times called for desperate measures. With that done, he stood over the young muscleboy, his mind trying to figure out a plan. He led the wobbly Korak to the biggest tree he could find. He nestled them in, protecting their backs.
Slade pulled out his gun and waited, fixating on The Kid saying he was on the list, too.
Why?
Slade lied back against the tree with Korak lying against his hairy chest in front of him. The jungle boy was hopefully sleeping off the drug behind him. The hairy hunter tried to stay focused, but his mind kept wandering. To the past. The present. The future. He had no idea how much time had passed. He heard it. The sound. Slade raised his gun. He surveyed the jungle. They were coming. A lot of men. Probably not his or Mkuma’s. It was too soon for that, and they shouldn’t even be coming here.
The hairy hunter knew better than to waste ammunition on warning shots. Time was on his side. The longer this went on, the closer he’d be to evening the odds. So, he waited. He heard voices. Arrogant fuckers. Not even trying to sneak up on him. He saw them. Just four. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. The four men came into view. Shirtless in black pants with guns and knives strapped to them. Mean looking fuckers. Yeah, these were Saad’s men all right.
None of them had their weapons drawn, a positive sign. Slade waited. He could gun a couple of them down, but that would escalate things too much, too fast. And this was only four men. The Kid was five. Korak told him ten.
Slade said, “So, which one of you is Saad?” None of the men responded. “C’mon now. A man has the right to know the name of his killers, don’t he?”
The oldest looking one stepped forward. He was more handsome and stylish than the others. He said, “The only rights men have are those granted by Master Saad.” Slade waited. The man was assessing the situation. He looked at the unconscious Korak in front of the very conscious Slade. He smiled. “I am Fox. My friends are Grizz, Blade, and Mercy.”
Slade smirked, “I get Grizz. Looks like a bear. Fox. Yeah, gotta admit that you’re a sexy old guy. And Blade. Thin. I see the knives.” He looked directly at Mercy then back to Fox, “That last one meant to be ironic? Because ‘Mercy’ looks like a sadistic asshole. Stupid, too.”
Mercy stepped forward, but Fox stopped him, “No, Mercy. Not yet. You will have plenty of opportunities to have him call your name.” The gray-haired leader said, “You live up to your reputation, Slade. Using that boy as a shield is cold.”
“Yeah, figured that all this muscle might help me get a couple more shots off before I die. Besides, had to do something while I waited. I figured you’d be here sooner, but didn’t know Saad would send a gimpy old man. Should’ve sent more kids like the last one.”
The gray-haired man smiled, “Are you going to gun us down now?”
“Naw, not yet. I’m enjoying our chat.” Slade’s eyes narrowed, “And I’m waiting for the guys on my right to step forward. I wanna see the whole team before I decide what order I wanna kill you.” He pointed the gun at Mercy, “So far, you’re in the lead, sport.”
Fox grinned, “Well, let me introduce the rest of the team.” A bald man in green pants stepped out of the shadows. “Sliver.” A bearded ginger man. “Fire.” A very pale bald man. “Ice.” Another handsome older man. “Uncle.” He paused for effect. “And I believe you know our final team member.”
A hairy beast of a man walked forward. Slade focused on him. The man was the biggest of them all. Even bigger than Grizz. Muscular and furry. Bald. Gruff. With a cigar hanging out of his mouth. A cruel, heartless look on his face. A familiar face. Slade’s jaw dropped as he tried to understand what he was seeing. Twenty years of age, but there was no doubt.
Slade whispered, “Boss Wilde?”
Korak’s plea did nothing to override The Kid’s command. Tarzan charged at the shocked muscleboy with the ferocity of a rabid lion. The muscular blond jungle boy could not believe his friend and mentor would attack him, but it was happening. Korak’s jungle instincts kicked in. Tarzan leapt at him like an ape. The teen powerhouse turned and kicked just as Slade had done to him. It worked here, too. The apeman flew right into it. CRACK!
Tarzan’s head snapped back, and he fell to the side, stunned. As the 18-year-old muscleboy stood ready to fight, he did not follow through. He could not do it. Slade’s words of warning echoed in Korak’s head. Tarzan was brainwashed. That meant that he was not in control. It meant that the jungle man would obey his orders, no matter what. Even if he did not want to, there was no way for his friend to overcome whatever evil this Master Saad had done.
Korak knew that he had to fight.
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| Korak |
Korak turned to The Kid. The cute, lightweight blond’s eyes went wide as he was targeted. The jungle boy made it only three steps before he felt a big paw wrap around his ankle. Tarzan! The older muscleman tripped his friend. Tarzan growled, “Submit, Boy! All men belong to Master Saad!” Korak rolled and kicked out with his other foot. He caught Tarzan in the temple. WHACK! Korak rolled away. When he looked up, to where The Kid was, he saw no one.
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| The Kid |
Korak hesitated about what to do next. He should strike, but hurting Tarzan was wrong. Unfortunately for Korak, the older muscleman didn’t feel the same way about him. Not now when his conditioning had been reactivated. Tarzan rolled and lunged, tackling Korak down to the jungle floor. He swung his fist at Korak’s head. The jungle boy barely managed to block the blow. Tarzan brought his other forearm down onto Korak’s thick pecs. WHOMP! OOF!
The Kid taunted Korak, “Only one way out, Boy. And that’s for you to beat the monkey. See, those the years you’ve spent with Tarzan? All a lie. He was working for Master Saad. Keeping you in line for this day. Tarzan’s never been your friend. He’s only been your babysitter.”
The enraged teen powerhouse bucked up, throwing the apeman off him. They scrambled up to face one another again. Tarzan lunged. Korak leapt to jump over him, but the mighty apeman caught him around the waist. ARGH! The older jungle man pulled Korak into a bearhug. The power of his friend was immediately crippling for the teen powerhouse. The blond muscleboy cried out as his body was crushed.
Against the power of Tarzan’s power, Korak’s breathing became labored. He writhed in the jungle man’s tight grip. The blond muscleboy knew he had no choice. He swung his arms like clubs, striking Tarzan across the head. WHACK! CRACK! THWAK! The apeman lost the bearhug, stumbling back and shaking out his head. Korak wasted no time. He leapt at Tarzan, tackling him to the ground. SPLAT! BOOM! Korak pinned Tarzan’s wrists to the jungle floor.
“Tarzan, please! Focus! Fight against whatever they did to you!”
The only response Korak got was a roar before he was thrown off. Tarzan rolled at him, quickly tackling Korak down, their positions reversed. The two jungle beasts wrestled for control on the ground, dirt and moss covering their smooth tanned flesh. Their loincloths slipped and shifted in the struggle. Tarzan was stronger, but Korak was faster and more flexible. The two were proving to be more evenly matched than The Kid expected, but that only made his cock grow.
The Kid rubbed his crotch, “Such a feisty feline. Yes, this one does have fire. Only 18 and he’s already so powerful. Maybe you did something right after all, monkey. He’ll be a real prize for The Master.” He told Korak, “Under The Master’s hand, you will become stronger than ever, Boy. You will become our greatest weapon. Embrace the honor.”
Korak ignored the taunts. The teen powerhouse focused on the fight of his life. He was sweating and gasping. The jungle boy was aware that he was breathing in the strange smell. The one that clouded his mind. It was yet another challenge for him to overcome. The two men fired fists. THUD! POW! THUD! Their muscular bodies were solid, absorbing the short striking blows. They tried to grasp the other’s limbs, but neither could sustain any kind of control.
While he was holding his own, Korak knew that he was playing defensively. Tarzan was controlling the struggle. Moving him into position. The apeman’s time on top was increasing the longer they rolled around. They were successfully protecting their faces and heads, but their bodies were scratched from the ground. Their smooth, perfect physiques were bruised and red from the close in body punches. And they were both drenched in sweat.
Tarzan finally managed to power through Korak’s defenses. He got the teen powerhouse turned around and locked on a choke hold from behind. Korak cried out. The jungle man rolled them over so that he was on his back with Korak on top. The older jungle man wrapped his legs around Korak’s waist and tightened up on a body scissors. The jungle boy struggled, desperately turning and shifting to keep Tarzan from finishing him off.
Korak knew that he was one wrong move from losing.
The Kid clapped, “Ooh, look at those beautiful muscles all stretched out! You will be everyone’s favorite slave, Boy. I might take you here and now once Tarzan finishes you.”
The teen powerhouse squeezed one hand in between his neck and the apeman’s bicep, fighting to keep the pressure off. With his other hand, Korak reached back. He was muscular, but also had the flexibility of youth. The muscleboy was able to grab hold of Tarzan’s long brown hair. Korak held tight on the thick mane. He crunched his abs and sat up. The jungle boy was only able to move Tarzan a bit. He had to hope it was enough.
Korak threw himself back with all his strength. Tarzan’s head hit the jungle floor and the back of the muscleboy’s head hit the apeman in the face. THUD! CRACK! The double head attack stunned the older muscleman. Korak was able to disengage. He rolled to freedom, crawling with his head down as he tried to focus. He wanted to turn and fight, but the choke and body scissors had taken too much out of him.
The Kid laughed, “Golly, that’s a splendid behind, Boy. Strip his loincloth, monkey. Give me a better look at what we’re getting.”
Before the teen powerhouse could react, Tarzan was on him. Korak struggled. He escaped, because the apeman followed orders. He grabbed and pulled the muscleboy’s soft leather loincloth. It came loose, leaving Korak naked wearing only his belt, knife, and boots. Korak scrambled to his feet to face Tarzan. The older jungle man tossed the leather to The Kid, who caught it and smelled it deeply.
“You smell wonderful, Boy. And look at you. Beautiful manhood nested in that soft blond fur. Thick meat. Large balls. Mountainous behind. The Master will want to keep you naked. His own tamed alpha jungle boy. Maybe even use you as a breeding stud.”
Korak didn’t care about being naked, but he did care about his freedom. The teen powerhouse focused back on Tarzan, who was crouched, looking for another opening to attack. Korak moved cautiously, his impressive manhood dangling. Tarzan charged in again. Korak let him get in close. The jungle boy grabbed hold and rolled backwards. Using Tarzan’s momentum against him, the blond muscleboy flipped his friend. Tarzan landed hard on his back. SPLAT!
The jungle boy did not hesitate this time. He used the roll to somersault backwards into a handstand. The agile young buck came down, driving his knee into Tarzan’s chiseled midsection! WHOMP! The force of 220-lbs of jungle boy muscle crashing down broke through the thick muscle wall. Tarzan crunched up, coughing. Korak met the jungle man’s rising head with a swinging elbow to the temple. CRACK! Tarzan’s head snapped sideways.
The brown-haired jungle man rolled onto his side, stunned. Korak knew that for him to win, Tarzan had to be unconscious. The teen powerhouse grabbed a handful of his friend’s thick hair and dragged him up to his feet. Korak grabbed Tarzan around the waist in a reverse bearhug. He squeezed the jungle man hard. Tarzan groaned. He tried to pry the muscleboy’s arms apart, but Korak was too strong.
Korak squeezed harder. Tarzan coughed as his torso began to collapse against the mighty teen’s strength. In desperation, the apeman swung his right elbow back. WHAM! Tarzan’s shoulders were so broad, and the hold was so tight that he could only hit Korak’s bowling ball shoulder. The elbow bounced off harmlessly. Tarzan twisted to try the left elbow. BAM! He achieved the same result — no damage.
Even though the moves were unsuccessful, the teen powerhouse knew he could not hold Tarzan like this forever. The young muscleboy used his tremendous strength to throw Tarzan up and back in a belly-to-back suplex. Tarzan landed hard on the back of his neck and shoulders. CRASH! Korak rolled out from under him. When he reached hands and knees, Korak suddenly felt a stinging sensation in his right buttocks. ZIP!
Korak reached back and pulled a dart out of the thick, round muscle. He looked at The Kid who held a gun in his hand and had a smirk on his face. “This is taking far too long. Face it, Boy, you’re too good. Better than any of us expected. You’ve fought through the mist. You’ve overcome the big monkey. Who knows, you might even be able to take me.”
“I will crush you!”
The Kid smirked, “Maybe, but let’s not find out.”
Behind Korak, Tarzan was up. He grabbed the distracted teen powerhouse in a full nelson. ARGH! The muscleboy screamed, “NO!” Korak struggled against his friend, but his strength was too much. The Kid moved in closer. Korak kicked at him, but the lean blond swatted the kicks away. He moved in close, rubbing Korak’s abs. The jungle boy felt the effects of whatever drug he had been shot with. The Kid ran his fingers up, feeling Korak’s powerful body.
“Lovely. Just lovely.” The black gloved hand moved up to Korak’s pained face. “And handsome, too. How would you feel about wearing a bowtie? Do you even know what a bowtie is?” The helpless teen powerhouse growled. The Kid laughed, “I’m teasing, silly Boy. What you feel doesn’t matter anymore.”
The Kid traces Korak’s lips. The jungle boy tries to bite it, but he has to mobility in the crushing full nelson. “Naughty. Careful or those teeth might just have to come out.” The Kid lowered his hand to molest Korak’s manhood. He gripped the thick cock and studied it. he peeled back the foreskin and frowned. “This will definitely have to go. Master Saad insists men be circumcised.” The Kid weighed the heavy balls, “Very nice. Definite bull potential.”
Korak struggled with all he had. The Kid backed up and watched the furious escape attempt. Tarzan’s fingers began to separate. The lean blond’s eyebrows rose as he wondered just how strong this new slave was. He wasn’t worried. Just curious. He hoped that The Master would allow him to test this one. The strength and stress tests would be fascinating. Tarzan managed to reassert control, and the teen powerhouse went limp in the full nelson, his energy drained.
“Well done, monkey. Hold him. He’s quite the beast, fighting through the pheromone mist. Matching you. Fighting through the first tranquilizer. This was a fine audition, but all good things must come to an end. We have a plane to catch.” The Kid triumphantly held up the syringe, “One dose of this will end his resistance.”
Suddenly, a whip struck The Kid’s gloved hand, forcing him to drop the syringe. CRACK! OW! The Kid held his hand and looked angrily to the source. Tarzan threw Korak to the ground, focusing on defending his Master. The Kid, Tarzan, and Korak all looked forward. It was Slade. As the hairy hunter discarded his whip and raised his gun, Tarzan positioned himself in front of The Kid while the groggy Korak fought to stay conscious.
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| Slade |
The hairy hunter asked, “What’re doing, Korak?”
Korak rose, summoning his adrenaline, “He cannot risk hitting me anymore than you can shoot Tarzan. His Master Saad would have his hide if he resorted to murder this quickly. Isn’t that right, Kid?”
The Kid smiled sweetly, “Clever, pup. You’re a naughty boy, but a clever one. Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t kill Slade anyway. You’re both on the list for capture.” He tapped Tarzan on the back, “Slave, back up with me. Keep me safe. Take a bullet or knife for me.” The two men moved into the jungle. “We’ll be seeing you, boys. Next time, there won’t be anyone to save either of you.”
—————
Slade and Korak walked only twenty feet before the teen powerhouse’s adrenaline ran out. He slumped and stumbled, caught by Slade, who struggled to keep him propped up. The drugged jungle boy slurred, “We have to go after them!”
“You’re in no shape, kid. We need to escape.” The hairy hunter growled, “What did you think you were doing? Do you realize you almost got yourself captured. And me, too.”
“Tarzan … in trouble.”
“Tarzan’s been in trouble for 17 years. He can wait to be rescued another few hours. We’re going back to my camp to regroup. Mkuma and his men are going there. No one to save us here.”
“No. Can’t lose. Tarzan. Must find.”
Slade sighed as he led Korak into the jungle, “I don’t need to follow him for that. They’re going to Barnes’ place.”
“What?”
“I saw parachutes. You must be a big deal. Saad flew his men here. Saved days of hiking. I knew they’d come after you, but not like this. Surprised they didn’t all come here, but luckily, they only sent that kid.” Slade snarked, “Of course, one kid was almost enough, wasn’t it?”
Korak moaned, ashamed. He admitted, “Kid only came … for Tarzan, not me.”
The jungle boy staggered. Slade couldn’t hold him and Korak went down. Slade knew Saad’s men would come looking. They had to go, but Slade also knew he couldn’t drag 220-lbs of muscleboy through the jungle alone. He debated what to do. The optimist in him said to hide. The realist knew they would be found. Especially with Tarzan on the other side. They needed help. He made a choice and hoped The Kid was right that he was also on the no-kill list.
The hairy hunter pulled out a flare gun from his pocket, loading a blue charge. He fired it into the air, trusting that the wetness of the jungle would keep the whole place from catching on fire. He’d never used the signal before, but desperate times called for desperate measures. With that done, he stood over the young muscleboy, his mind trying to figure out a plan. He led the wobbly Korak to the biggest tree he could find. He nestled them in, protecting their backs.
Slade pulled out his gun and waited, fixating on The Kid saying he was on the list, too.
Why?
—————
CHAPTER XI
DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
NOT FAR FROM KORAK AND TARZAN'S TREEHOUSE.
Slade lied back against the tree with Korak lying against his hairy chest in front of him. The jungle boy was hopefully sleeping off the drug behind him. The hairy hunter tried to stay focused, but his mind kept wandering. To the past. The present. The future. He had no idea how much time had passed. He heard it. The sound. Slade raised his gun. He surveyed the jungle. They were coming. A lot of men. Probably not his or Mkuma’s. It was too soon for that, and they shouldn’t even be coming here.
The hairy hunter knew better than to waste ammunition on warning shots. Time was on his side. The longer this went on, the closer he’d be to evening the odds. So, he waited. He heard voices. Arrogant fuckers. Not even trying to sneak up on him. He saw them. Just four. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. The four men came into view. Shirtless in black pants with guns and knives strapped to them. Mean looking fuckers. Yeah, these were Saad’s men all right.
None of them had their weapons drawn, a positive sign. Slade waited. He could gun a couple of them down, but that would escalate things too much, too fast. And this was only four men. The Kid was five. Korak told him ten.
Slade said, “So, which one of you is Saad?” None of the men responded. “C’mon now. A man has the right to know the name of his killers, don’t he?”
The oldest looking one stepped forward. He was more handsome and stylish than the others. He said, “The only rights men have are those granted by Master Saad.” Slade waited. The man was assessing the situation. He looked at the unconscious Korak in front of the very conscious Slade. He smiled. “I am Fox. My friends are Grizz, Blade, and Mercy.”
Mercy stepped forward, but Fox stopped him, “No, Mercy. Not yet. You will have plenty of opportunities to have him call your name.” The gray-haired leader said, “You live up to your reputation, Slade. Using that boy as a shield is cold.”
“Yeah, figured that all this muscle might help me get a couple more shots off before I die. Besides, had to do something while I waited. I figured you’d be here sooner, but didn’t know Saad would send a gimpy old man. Should’ve sent more kids like the last one.”
The gray-haired man smiled, “Are you going to gun us down now?”
“Naw, not yet. I’m enjoying our chat.” Slade’s eyes narrowed, “And I’m waiting for the guys on my right to step forward. I wanna see the whole team before I decide what order I wanna kill you.” He pointed the gun at Mercy, “So far, you’re in the lead, sport.”
Fox grinned, “Well, let me introduce the rest of the team.” A bald man in green pants stepped out of the shadows. “Sliver.” A bearded ginger man. “Fire.” A very pale bald man. “Ice.” Another handsome older man. “Uncle.” He paused for effect. “And I believe you know our final team member.”
A hairy beast of a man walked forward. Slade focused on him. The man was the biggest of them all. Even bigger than Grizz. Muscular and furry. Bald. Gruff. With a cigar hanging out of his mouth. A cruel, heartless look on his face. A familiar face. Slade’s jaw dropped as he tried to understand what he was seeing. Twenty years of age, but there was no doubt.
Slade whispered, “Boss Wilde?”
The final man grinned. The hairy hunter spoke louder, “Boss Wilde!” The man who looked like Wilde casually pulled the cigar from his mouth. He tapped it to drop a few ashes which he ground into the jungle floor. “That’s fucking impossible! You’re dead!”
“I was. But Master Saad is the master of all men, alive or not. Natural laws bend to His will, Slade. Including life and death. He found me. He resurrected me. Gave me a new purpose.” Wilde chuckled, “And now He’s giving me you. All men belong to Master Saad and you, my old friend, are one helluva man. Years have been good to you.”
Slade tensed, “You came back from the fucking dead just to kill me?”
“No, why would I? Death is too quick. You need to suffer. Torture. Training. Taming. A lifetime of licking boots, taking cock, and calling real men ‘Sir’. Earning your keep by raping this jungle as hard as I’m gonna rape your ass. That’s what He’s got planned. You are now Master Saad’s obedient cash cow.”
“Never gonna happen.” Slade tried to act brave, “3 against 2? I like those odds.”
The skinniest one, a man named Blade laughed, “He’s daft. Can’t even count.”
Slade smiled, “Yeah, I can count. I see nine men with guns and blades, but they’re aimed at two guys you can’t kill. I’d call you cowards, but you’re worse than that. You’re stupid. You’re paper tigers. Now, I only got six bullets, so that does leave three of you.” Saad’s men all growled. Slade taunted, “So, let’s have it. Who’s feeling lucky? Step on up.”
Everyone stayed in place.
Wilde smirked, “Slade, Slade, Slade. Still smart. Strategic. Only reason you haven’t taken any of us down is that you’re stalling.” The hairy beast growled, “You killed me right away the last time, Slade. Shouldn’t have waited this time.”
“Why’s that? What's on the other side that's got you so eager to die again? Couldn't be heaven. Neither of us are getting there.”
Suddenly, Tarzan burst forth from the side. Slade instinctively turned and aimed, but he couldn’t bring himself to shoot. Tarzan grabbed the gun, easily ripping it away. The jungle man turned and ambled away. Slade watched in silence, his heart aching. The Kid emerged from the side. As the jungle man handed The Kid the gun, the cute blond smiled, “Good boy, Tarzan.”
Wilde said, “Get a good glimpse of your future, Slade. We took your monkey from you. We’ll take your new Boy from you. We’re taking your freedom from you.”
The men moved forward methodically with purpose. Unarmed and outmanned, pinned under Korak's 220-lbs of deadweight, Slade patted the blond jungle boy's face, “Wake up, kid. Now’d be a good time for some of that jungle shit you do.” The muscleboy barely reacted. “Damn it.”
Slade struggled as Grizz and Fire grabbed his arms. They pulled him up. He fought, but Mercy kicked Slade in the gut. WHOMP! The blow was so hard, Slade thought he might throw up. Grizz and Fire pushed down on the back of his knees, dropping Slade down. Slade saw Wilde moving in at him. His former boss bitchslapped the hairy hunter. SMACK! The blow was stunning. Wilde grabbed his hair, forcing Slade to look up at him.
“No jungle man to save you this time, Slade. I’ve waited 20 years for revenge.”
The Kid moved in carrying a thick metal rod. He held it across the back of Slade’s shoulders. Wilde and Mercy bound the outstretched arms to it with heavy rope. The hairy hunter struggled the entire time, but Grizz and Fire easily held his arms out as he was bound. The Kid dangled a leather collar in front of Slade’s face. “Would you like to do the honor, Wilde?”
Wilde snatched the collar, “Hell yeah.”
The hairy beast stepped forward. He pulled Slade’s face into his crotch, forcing the helpless hunk to breathe in his former boss’ musk. “That’s your future, you double-crossing fuck. You killed me for jungle love and look where it got you and your apes.”
Wilde strapped the collar around Slade’s neck, connecting it to the steel rod. They forced Slade up to his feet. The Kid handed Wilde a leash, which he slowly and dramatically attached to the collar. More ropes were added around Slade’s waist, held by Fire and Ice on either side. They pulled in unison and Slade had no choice but to follow. He stumbled as they pulled the hairy hunter forward. Slade eyes searched for Korak.
The unconscious jungle boy was lying on his stomach. His arms were stretched to the front. Korak’s ankles and wrists were strapped to a long pole that ran down his back. It was slid inside the back of the belt at his waist, his knife still attached to the belt. Two of the stronger looking men, Grizz and Mercy, were now positioned at the front of the pole and at the back.
Grizz and Mercy lifted the pole in unison, dragging up the 220-lbs teen powerhouse. Korak hung from the pole, held at the wrists, ankles, and waist. The jungle boy’s head and long blond hair hung down. At his side, his knife swayed, useless in its sheathe. The muscleboy’s limp manhood dangled and swung with every step the two cruel men took.
The Kid and Tarzan led the way back to Barnes’ place where they would regroup and radio for pickup. The mission had gone more smoothly than expected, wrapped up in hours as opposed to days. As usual, fortune favored Master Saad.
“I was. But Master Saad is the master of all men, alive or not. Natural laws bend to His will, Slade. Including life and death. He found me. He resurrected me. Gave me a new purpose.” Wilde chuckled, “And now He’s giving me you. All men belong to Master Saad and you, my old friend, are one helluva man. Years have been good to you.”
Slade tensed, “You came back from the fucking dead just to kill me?”
“No, why would I? Death is too quick. You need to suffer. Torture. Training. Taming. A lifetime of licking boots, taking cock, and calling real men ‘Sir’. Earning your keep by raping this jungle as hard as I’m gonna rape your ass. That’s what He’s got planned. You are now Master Saad’s obedient cash cow.”
“Never gonna happen.” Slade tried to act brave, “3 against 2? I like those odds.”
The skinniest one, a man named Blade laughed, “He’s daft. Can’t even count.”
Slade smiled, “Yeah, I can count. I see nine men with guns and blades, but they’re aimed at two guys you can’t kill. I’d call you cowards, but you’re worse than that. You’re stupid. You’re paper tigers. Now, I only got six bullets, so that does leave three of you.” Saad’s men all growled. Slade taunted, “So, let’s have it. Who’s feeling lucky? Step on up.”
Everyone stayed in place.
Wilde smirked, “Slade, Slade, Slade. Still smart. Strategic. Only reason you haven’t taken any of us down is that you’re stalling.” The hairy beast growled, “You killed me right away the last time, Slade. Shouldn’t have waited this time.”
“Why’s that? What's on the other side that's got you so eager to die again? Couldn't be heaven. Neither of us are getting there.”
Suddenly, Tarzan burst forth from the side. Slade instinctively turned and aimed, but he couldn’t bring himself to shoot. Tarzan grabbed the gun, easily ripping it away. The jungle man turned and ambled away. Slade watched in silence, his heart aching. The Kid emerged from the side. As the jungle man handed The Kid the gun, the cute blond smiled, “Good boy, Tarzan.”
Wilde said, “Get a good glimpse of your future, Slade. We took your monkey from you. We’ll take your new Boy from you. We’re taking your freedom from you.”
The men moved forward methodically with purpose. Unarmed and outmanned, pinned under Korak's 220-lbs of deadweight, Slade patted the blond jungle boy's face, “Wake up, kid. Now’d be a good time for some of that jungle shit you do.” The muscleboy barely reacted. “Damn it.”
Slade struggled as Grizz and Fire grabbed his arms. They pulled him up. He fought, but Mercy kicked Slade in the gut. WHOMP! The blow was so hard, Slade thought he might throw up. Grizz and Fire pushed down on the back of his knees, dropping Slade down. Slade saw Wilde moving in at him. His former boss bitchslapped the hairy hunter. SMACK! The blow was stunning. Wilde grabbed his hair, forcing Slade to look up at him.
“No jungle man to save you this time, Slade. I’ve waited 20 years for revenge.”
The Kid moved in carrying a thick metal rod. He held it across the back of Slade’s shoulders. Wilde and Mercy bound the outstretched arms to it with heavy rope. The hairy hunter struggled the entire time, but Grizz and Fire easily held his arms out as he was bound. The Kid dangled a leather collar in front of Slade’s face. “Would you like to do the honor, Wilde?”
Wilde snatched the collar, “Hell yeah.”
The hairy beast stepped forward. He pulled Slade’s face into his crotch, forcing the helpless hunk to breathe in his former boss’ musk. “That’s your future, you double-crossing fuck. You killed me for jungle love and look where it got you and your apes.”
Wilde strapped the collar around Slade’s neck, connecting it to the steel rod. They forced Slade up to his feet. The Kid handed Wilde a leash, which he slowly and dramatically attached to the collar. More ropes were added around Slade’s waist, held by Fire and Ice on either side. They pulled in unison and Slade had no choice but to follow. He stumbled as they pulled the hairy hunter forward. Slade eyes searched for Korak.
The unconscious jungle boy was lying on his stomach. His arms were stretched to the front. Korak’s ankles and wrists were strapped to a long pole that ran down his back. It was slid inside the back of the belt at his waist, his knife still attached to the belt. Two of the stronger looking men, Grizz and Mercy, were now positioned at the front of the pole and at the back.
Grizz and Mercy lifted the pole in unison, dragging up the 220-lbs teen powerhouse. Korak hung from the pole, held at the wrists, ankles, and waist. The jungle boy’s head and long blond hair hung down. At his side, his knife swayed, useless in its sheathe. The muscleboy’s limp manhood dangled and swung with every step the two cruel men took.
The Kid and Tarzan led the way back to Barnes’ place where they would regroup and radio for pickup. The mission had gone more smoothly than expected, wrapped up in hours as opposed to days. As usual, fortune favored Master Saad.
—————
COMMISSIONER BARNES’ CABIN. DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
 |
| Commissioner Barnes |
When the 13 men arrived at Barnes’ cabin, the older man was waiting on his porch with a rifle in hand. The commissioner grinned at the sight of Korak bound to a pole, dangling by his wrists and ankles, his impressive manhood hanging down. Barnes chuckled as he noticed that Saad’s men hadn’t even bothered to remove his belt and knife. That was how insignificant the jungle boy was. How thoroughly outclassed he was by the magnificent men who captured him.
Seeing Slade stumbling along amused Barnes just as much. The hairy hunter looked pathetic with his arms bound outward along the pole that stretched across his shoulders. The hairy beast named Wilde was casually smoking a cigar as he manned the rope leash around Slade’s neck. Barnes’ rifle was ready, but he was happy not to have to use it. Saad’s men were superior and the Master himself would transform Korak and Slade, just as he had Tarzan.
Speaking of Tarzan, Barnes saw him beside The Kid. The commissioner wanted his monkey back. He needed to feel ownership of someone after his humiliating experience with Master Saad’s Voice. Barnes snapped his fingers and called Tarzan over. His pet jogged toward him. The apeman immediately knelt beside his one true master when he reached Barnes’ side.
Barnes gently rubbed Tarzan’s head, “Good boy.” He whispered, “Never forget that you’re mine.” The commissioner pointed at Slade, “How long before he’s licking boots?”
Wilde smirked, “Master Saad will determine the protocol after assessment. But I imagine not long. The Master is eager to begin taking what’s His from this worthless wasteland.”
Suddenly, a gunshot came out. Blade dropped down dead. Saad’s men reached for their weapons, but a mixture of Nagasu warriors and Slade’s men emerged from the trees with spears, bows, and guns aimed. Clark, Slade’s second-in-command, ordered, “Hands up. You touch your weapons, and you die.” Saad’s men raised their hands.
Mkuma stepped forward. He said firmly, “Kneel.” Saad’s men obeyed the ebony muscleboy. The tip of Mkuma’s spear touched Wilde’s Adam’s apple. “What did you do to Korak?”
Wilde defiantly replied, “Brought him closer to his truth.” The tip poked forward, drawing blood. The hairy beast rethought his response. “He’s drugged. He’ll recover.”
“If he does, you all leave here alive. If he does not, you all die.”
Mkuma moved to Korak. He checked on his friend as he freed him. One of Slade’s men cut the ropes that held his boss. Slade rubbed his wrists. He told Mkuma, “They’re not lying. He was drugged. I think he’ll be okay.”
Korak opened his eyes. He said, “I am okay. I was pretending to be unconscious for the past few minutes, waiting for a chance to strike.” Mkuma deeply kissed his lover. “I’m sorry, Mkuma. I was foolish.” He asked, “How did you find us?”
“Slade’s blue sky-cloud. His men said blue meant Barnes.”
On the porch, Barnes was furious. This was not supposed to happen. He was the commissioner of this region. He was in charge. Not these savages and jungle men and criminals. Barnes realized that no one was even acknowledging him, despite the fact that he was the only one of true importance in the crowd. They would all pay. Starting with Slade.
Barnes ordered, “Monkey! Kill Slade! Stab him through the heart!”
Tarzan’s conditioning kicked in. He charged at Slade. At first, no one even noticed, but then, everyone looked. Saad’s men used the distraction to fight back. Mkuma and his warriors reacted with inhuman speed. Fire and Uncle went down in seconds to arrows. That settled the remaining of Saad’s men down, but everyone was standing and mixed up. Behind it all, the apeman leapt and tackled the shocked hunter down, taking his ex-lover to the ground quickly.
As Tarzan raised his knife, his left hand pressed down on Slade’s hairy right pec. The jungle man seemed to react to something. He had a look of confusion, and his eyes darted to his hand, which was seemingly embraced by Slade’s dark and luscious chest fur.
Barnes gleefully screamed in a crazed high-pitched voice, “KILL HIM!”
Across the clearing, Korak was powerless to save Slade. There were too many men between him and Tarzan. In one moment, he was consumed by his emotions. He desperately longed for his lover to notice what was happening. He feared for his new ally Slade. And he mourned for Tarzan, knowing that this act would destroy his friend because somewhere deep inside, Tarzan still loved Slade.
Korak felt one more emotion. Rage. His youthful adrenaline was fueled by it. He might not be able to save Slade, but he would avenge him. Barnes needed to pay. He withdrew his knife and moved to have a clear shot at the evil commissioner.
Slade looked up at blade shining in the sun. Time stopped. A calmness swept over him. The hunter had faced death many times. If he was going to die, he would do it right. He saw Tarzan’s reaction. It reminded him of their first meeting. Slade grabbed Tarzan’s left wrist. The hairy hunter pulled sharply, guiding the hand across the furry pec. The jungle man froze. Hesitated. His eyes couldn’t leave the beautiful chest. Something inside him kept the knife aloft.
Slade was emboldened. He pulled the arm again. Tarzan offered no resistance. He willingly let the hunter move his free hand to Slade’s hairy left pec. As Tarzan’s hand touched the chest, the jungle man whimpered. He remained frozen like a statue. The hunter used Tarzan’s hand to caress Slade’s furry chest. Another small whimper came from the jungle man. Memory fought conditioning. Slade saw the reaction. He was getting through.
Now, Tarzan rubbed the chest of his own volition. The two men locked eyes.
The hunter said, “Slade love Tarzan.”
Tarzan rested his large, strong hand over the hunter’s heart.
“Does Tarzan love Slade?”
The jungle man nodded, “Tarzan love Slade.” His mind cleared. He lowered the knife. Not into Slade’s heart, but into the sheathe at his side, Slade smiled. The muscular beast said in a stronger voice, “Tarzan love Slade.”
Slade said, “Welcome home, Tarzan.”
The two men rose. Across the clearing, Saad’s men were down on their knees, their rebellion accomplished nothing but the deaths of two more men. The warriors and hunters held the uneasy truce. Barnes stood on the wood platform in shock. He knew it was over, but he would exact his revenge. Barnes raised his rifle, aiming it at Slade. No one could convict him for killing the criminal. If Barnes was finished in the jungle, he would exact his pound of flesh.
Slade and Tarzan were lost in each other’s eyes, not realizing the impending danger. Korak was almost in position to throw his knife. Mkuma saw the threat, as well. He drew back his spear and yelled a warning as he thrust his arm forward, “SLADE! BARNES! GUN!” Slade and Tarzan looked at Barnes. The commissioner was pulling the trigger. As he did, Tarzan leapt into action, doing what he always did. Protecting what he loved. And in that instant, what he loved was Slade. The jungle man moved in front of the hairy hunter.
BANG!
The rifle went off. Tarzan took the hit. The bullet tore into the mighty apeman! Blood flew!
Slade screamed in terror, “TARZAN!”
“TARZAN!”
Barnes missed his primary target, but he didn’t know it. He had no time to think, much less fire again. Before the bullet even struck Tarzan, he was dead. Mkuma’s spear plunged into Barnes’ chest as Korak’s knife hit him in the temple. SCHLUNK! THWUCK! Both weapons were thrown with deadly accuracy. The spear pierced the older man’s left pec, thrown with such force that it went through the older man. The knife went through his skull and was embedded in halfway deep.
The commissioner collapsed, dead before he hit the porch. PLOP! Unfortunately, both weapons arrived nanoseconds too late.
While Barnes never got to see the effects of his shot, they were felt by those in the clearing immediately. Slade was the closest. He reached Tarzan quickly, crying out, “Why? WHY? WHYYYY?” The mighty ape man fell to the ground on his back, bloody and unmoving. Korak moved through the sea of men, pushing them aside in his panic. Mkuma moved even faster, pointing at one of his men as he dove in to cover the bleeding wound with his big hands.
Doc moved past everyone. One of Slade’s men, a lean ginger man, Doc was recruited years prior, providing much needed medical assistance to Slade’s band of hunters. His skills were never needed more than they were now. He stripped off his jacket and handed it to Mkuma, who used it to contain the bleeding. Behind them, Ramo, the Nagasu warrior Mkuma signaled, shouted instructions to two of his men as he scanned the nearby vegetation.
Doc commanded, “Get him inside!”
Korak and Slade carried Tarzan into Barnes’ cabin as Mkuma kept the pressure on. The small army of hunters and warriors was more than capable of handling Saad’s men. The mercenaries were silently kneeling with their hands behind their heads. They knew that there wasn’t a man in the clearing who would hesitate to kill them at the slightest provocation. Especially after what Barnes did. The old man was dead. They had no interest in joining him or their comrades.
In the cabin, it was chaos. Doc had Mkuma continue trying to contain the bleeding while he searched for supplies. Luckily, Barnes had a full stocked medical cabinet for himself. Every outpost had to be its own hospital. Doc found everything he needed, except for two things. Time and blood. He was familiar with the recent work of Karl Landsteiner on blood types, but he had no way of figuring out who was a match. He would have to hope for the best.
Doc told Slade, “I need blood from someone.”
Slade said, “You got me.”
“Put a table beside Tarzan and get on it.”
Ramo came in carrying leaves. Mkuma explained that he was a Nagasu healer. Doc kept working as Ramo used the leaves to cover the bleeding shoulder. With Mkuma free, Doc ordered him and Korak to see if anyone else would give blood. He didn’t want to drain Slade dry. As the muscleboys left, one of Ramo’s men came in with roots. Ramo wiped one off. He put it in the moaning Tarzan’s mouth.
Doc respected jungle medicine. He knew the power of it and allowed Ramo to do his thing while he prepared for makeshift surgery. The triage physician ordered everyone but Ramo and Slade to stay out of the cabin. Outside, Mkuma had taken command. Korak found another of Slade’s men for blood. He sent him inside the cabin. Mkuma told Korak to hunt for more of the herbs Ramo needed. It was busy work to keep his mind off Tarzan’s fight for life.
At Mkuma’s orders, Saad’s men were securely bound to poles. The seven men were carried to the Nagasu village. He wanted them gone before Tarzan’s fate was known.
One of Slade’s men stepped up, “There’s gonna be trouble for killing Barnes, even if the bastard deserved it!”
Mkuma nodded. He showed his keen mind and natural leadership skills. “Barnes ran away like the coward that he is. He shot Tarzan and escaped, knowing that his crimes were exposed.”
Slade’s men nodded. They were used to lying. This lie would be no problem for them. One confirmed, “Okay, we got you.”
“Good. Remove the spear and knife. Carry all the dead deep into the jungle. Stack them. Let the animals feast.” Two warriors nodded and worked. With the body removed, Mkuma scanned the area. He said, “Clean up the blood. Turn the boards. Turn the dirt. Pack it down. If someone comes looking, make them work to understand what happened here.”
The remaining men and warriors started working.
It was over an hour later when Doc stopped working.
Slade saw him step back. He feared the worst, “Doc?”
Doc slowly turned to Slade. He looked his boss in the eyes, “The bullet was lodged deep, but luckily it hit the shoulder.” The hairy hunter hoped that was good. Doc smiled, “Tarzan will live. I got it all out, cleaned him out, and stitched him up. Ramo is treating the wound now.”
One of the Nagasu left to tell Korak and Mkuma. They hugged when they heard the news.
Inside, the doctor shook his head, “No wonder you love the guy, Slade. He’s one helluva tough beast. Just like you. Operated on without anesthetic and he powered through. The jungle herbs helped, but still. Never moved. Made it easy. Tarzan will need to rest, but I think he’ll get most or all his movement back if he works at it. You need to rest, too. We took out a lot of blood.”
Slade shook his head. He sat up and pushed his way past Doc to see his boy. No, his man. The man he loved. Ramo was successfully managing the pain with his holistic knowledge. Tarzan was resting, but he heard the footsteps. He looked up at Slade. Tarzan managed to get one word out, “Win?” Slade nodded. “Boy safe?”
Right on cue, Korak was in the cabin. He answered, “I am, Tarzan.” Korak came over. Tarzan smiled as he sat on the other side of him. So much of the fog that had clouded his mind cleared. The two men he loved most in the world were at his side.
Tarzan saw the tube to his arm. He asked, “What is that?”
Slade smiled, “You needed blood. That filled you with mine.”
The jungle man smiled weakly, “No wonder I live. I have your strength inside me.”
“You’re plenty strong on your own.”
The jungle man suddenly scowled, “Barnes?”
Before Slade could answer, Mkuma lied, “He ran into the jungle to escape with three of Saad’s men. They dropped their guns, so they will not make it a day.” Slade looked up, but Korak nodded at him. He didn’t ask. The young warrior said, “Do not worry, Tarzan. The jungle will judge him. When his people come searching for him, there will be nothing left to find.”
Tarzan looked from side to side. He said to Slade, “I’m sorry. They did something. To me. I am not strong. I was too weak. I couldn’t —”
Slade shook his head, “Don’t. None of this is your fault. All that matters is that you get better.” The hunter said, “Tarzan. I meant it when I said that I love you.”
Tarzan smiled, “Slade. I meant it when I said that I love you.”
The hunter had never cried in his adult life. Until now. Slade held his man’s hand as Tarzan closed his eyes to rest. Korak rose. He patted the hunter on the back and returned to his lover to help with cleanup. Slade stayed with the mighty ape man, leaving the others to take care of business. Doc gave Slade a chair and something eat and drink from Barnes’ stash.
The hairy hunter softly wept with joy as his lover slept.
Korak asked, “What happened?”
Mkuma embraced his lover, “We won. The government will give us peace. The new commissioner knows his role. Slade believes that he is an honest man.”
Slade said, “It was something to see. The tribes united. Chief Bhaka representing them all. The commissioner’s bosses all the way up the chain were there. Bowing to the Chiefs. Apologizing for Barnes. Saad’s men are in prison. They’re not even investigating Barnes’ disappearance. Just accepting our story. They had no choice. Only other option was war, and they got no taste for that right now. Too soon. Not going to lose a bunch more boys over this jungle.”
Mkuma said, “And my father demanded that Slade and his men be treated as heroes. They have —” He searched for the English words, “— cleared the record.”
“Yep. Not a criminal anymore. Bhaka wanted me as new commissioner, but that wasn’t gonna work for me and it sure wasn’t gonna work for the government. Still, feels strange not to be an outlaw anymore. I can go anywhere I want.” Slade looked at Tarzan, “Of course, there’s only one place I wanna be.”
Korak smiled, “Your new place suits you better, Slade. And the invaders?”
“The companies are pulling back. The tribes are staking posts by the border. They come one foot closer, and everyone will know immediately. We won. We’re safe. For now.”
The hunter moved to Tarzan, who was lounging in a chair. They had set up a tent with cots, as Tarzan could not climb to his treehouse until his shoulder healed. Slade asked with a smile, “How’s our patient? Doc and Ramo were checking on you while I was gone?”
The naked, relaxing Tarzan rose to his feet, “I am happy. I am happier than I have been since I was taken from you.” He raised his injured arm and swung it, “Doc and Ramo have been here every day. I am healed. I just need to work. I need to use my arm. Make it strong again. Can you help me with that?”
Slade grinned, “We can do that. But first …”
The hairy man leaned forward and passionately kissed Tarzan.
Korak and Mkuma left them alone, planning their own reunion. Now that Tarzan was feeling better, the younger jungle man planned to live in the Nagasu village with his lover. The Chief had already given the women of the tribe the task of preparing a bonding ceremony for the two, the tribe’s version of marriage. When Bhaka stepped down, his son would take over with Korak at his side as his consort.
Slade’s men were now living amongst the Nagasu. For the moment, the rugged white men wanted to remain in the jungle, away from society. They enjoyed the newfound feeling of safety, love, and companionship. As well as the easy access to food and sex, not necessarily in that order. They were accepted without question. As recognized allies, they could live peacefully and make a lot more money for their future by working with the tribes. It was a win-win.
While Korak was moving, Tarzan would not be alone. Slade was going to live with him as he disbanded his camp. But for now, the two men weren’t thinking about their future. Their passion had returned full force. Tarzan was mostly free of the torturous training that had twisted his mind. Slade was free of his responsibilities to feed his men and protect the jungle in his way. With Doc’s declaration of a full recovery, they only had to focus on one thing.
Each other.
Once inside the tent, Slade growled, “I wanted to do this the second that you sheathed your knife.”
Tarzan dropped onto his back on the tent floor and spread his legs, “Make me your boy again, Slade. Take me as you want.”
The two men made out passionately. Slade pulled back. He stripped his clothes off. His sizable cock was fully erect and throbbing. The thick, uncut rod curved upward in anticipation. The jungle man moaned. He ached for the hairy man to own him once again. He was also fully erect, his nipples hard, and his mouth drooling.
In his mind, this moment would be tender and romantic, but now, seeing the jungle man with his legs up and hole open, Slade could not wait. He dropped down and lifted Tarzan’s legs higher. The jungle man helped him by holding behind his knees. Slade crawled into place. He wanted to stare into Tarzan’s dark brown eyes as he penetrated him. The mighty ape man gasped as he felt the slick cock head at his hole.
The two men paused for a moment. Locked in a stare. Breathless in anticipation. Each thinking that the other was the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life. Slade pushed forward, powering into his love’s eager hole. Tarzan moaned with pleasure, but he never took his eyes from Slade’s face. He savored the feeling of being conquered by the majestic cock again.
It was like the past years never happened. Slade aggressively owned his lover’s ass, driving deep inside. Tarzan loved every second of it. Just as it had been. From the pain to the ecstasy, he was enraptured by the experience. The jungle man pulled one hand from his knee. He reached up and placed it on the hunter’s furry chest. They smiled together as Slade continued to pound the mighty ape man.
Tarzan’s thick rod was leaking. He felt himself building to climax. The only man to ever bring him to climax hands-free was close to doing it again. Easily. The jungle whimpered. Slade grinned, remembering that sound well. They were those young men of 22 and 18 again, like when they first met. Tarzan grunted like a wild animal. Slade encouraged him as his sweat rained down on the smooth chiseled torso.
The intensity overwhelmed Tarzan first. He let out a loud yell that echoed through the jungle. Korak and Mkuma smiled when they heard it, pausing their own passions. Back in the tent, the mighty ape man’s cock erupted without a touch, spraying its seed past Tarzan’s head. As he convulsed, Slade was captivated, loving seeing Tarzan experiencing a joy that only he could give him. Ropes of cum spewed forth, the jungle man’s load was massive.
Slade was close as well. Tarzan’s hole was clenching on his cock, drawing forth his load. The hunter gasped. His face contorted. “OH YES! TARZAN! MY LOVE!” With that, Slade exploded inside Tarzan. He bred the mighty ape man, painting his insides white as he came. Neither man had had unleashed a large load while Tarzan recuperated, just relying on their hands for relief and it showed. Slade’s orgasm was long.
The hunter moaned as he slid out. He realized his cock was not soft. Neither was Tarzan’s. The men looked at each other. Tarzan grabbed his own cock. He said, “Doc said I need to use my arm.” He opened his mouth. Slade moved forward. The jungle man took the cum-lined cock into his mouth as he vigorously pumped his own cock, flexing his recovering arm.
Slade held Tarzan’s hair, keeping the ape man steady as he face-fucked his lover. The two men came even faster this second time. Tarzan again exploded first, adding a second load onto his torso. The hunter unloaded down Tarzan’s throat, filling the muscleman with his seed. The jungle man greedily drank down everything his man could give him. As he was finishing, Slade slid back, ensuring that the final shots coated Tarzan’s tongue.
The hairy hunter pulled out. He swiped some of Tarzan’s seed from the smooth, muscular torso and sucked on his own finger. Slade leaned in, his mouth tasting of Tarzan’s seed and Tarzan’s filled with Slade’s. The men kissed, mixing their cum as their tongues collided. Slade mounted Tarzan, lying on his cum-coated body, mashing it into his own fur. They enjoyed the romantic moment, knowing it was only the first in their lifetime together.
When they broke, Tarzan pushed up to stand. He shocked Slade by sweeping the hairy hunter up into his arms. The jungle man smiled, “I need to get strong.” The hairy hunter nodded, willing to accept the position. He would accept anything from Tarzan, as long as they were together. The mighty ape man carried Slade out of the tent and all the way to the river. He tossed Slade in and dove after them. They bathed in the clear, clean water.
20 minutes later, they were joined by Korak and Mkuma. Cum dripped from the young jungle boy’s hole. Slade and Tarzan were impressed by the size of Mkuma’s shining manhood. It was soft, but it was the equal of theirs hard. They welcomed the younger men to join them. The four men joyfully caroused and played, but they stayed focused on their lovers as couples. At least on this day, Slade and Tarzan had no interest in anyone but each other.
When sundown approached, The four men lounged naked under the stars. Tarzan snuggled against his man’s furry body. He felt safe. Slade pulled him in close. He wanted the mighty ape man as close to him as possible. They watched the younger musclemen flirt and play, clearly moving towards another round of sex. Slade kissed Tarzan’s forehead. He rose, extending his hand. Tarzan accepted and they moved back into Slade’s relocated tent.
“Fuck, I love you so much, Tarzan. I put it away, but I always loved you.”
“I love you, Slade. I will always love you.”
They settled onto the large cot; their bodies pressed together. Slade’s furry torso pressed tightly against Tarzan’s back. It took no time at all for them to fall asleep to the sounds of the jungle that they defended.
Seeing Slade stumbling along amused Barnes just as much. The hairy hunter looked pathetic with his arms bound outward along the pole that stretched across his shoulders. The hairy beast named Wilde was casually smoking a cigar as he manned the rope leash around Slade’s neck. Barnes’ rifle was ready, but he was happy not to have to use it. Saad’s men were superior and the Master himself would transform Korak and Slade, just as he had Tarzan.
Speaking of Tarzan, Barnes saw him beside The Kid. The commissioner wanted his monkey back. He needed to feel ownership of someone after his humiliating experience with Master Saad’s Voice. Barnes snapped his fingers and called Tarzan over. His pet jogged toward him. The apeman immediately knelt beside his one true master when he reached Barnes’ side.
Barnes gently rubbed Tarzan’s head, “Good boy.” He whispered, “Never forget that you’re mine.” The commissioner pointed at Slade, “How long before he’s licking boots?”
Wilde smirked, “Master Saad will determine the protocol after assessment. But I imagine not long. The Master is eager to begin taking what’s His from this worthless wasteland.”
Suddenly, a gunshot came out. Blade dropped down dead. Saad’s men reached for their weapons, but a mixture of Nagasu warriors and Slade’s men emerged from the trees with spears, bows, and guns aimed. Clark, Slade’s second-in-command, ordered, “Hands up. You touch your weapons, and you die.” Saad’s men raised their hands.
Mkuma stepped forward. He said firmly, “Kneel.” Saad’s men obeyed the ebony muscleboy. The tip of Mkuma’s spear touched Wilde’s Adam’s apple. “What did you do to Korak?”
 |
| Mkuma |
“If he does, you all leave here alive. If he does not, you all die.”
Mkuma moved to Korak. He checked on his friend as he freed him. One of Slade’s men cut the ropes that held his boss. Slade rubbed his wrists. He told Mkuma, “They’re not lying. He was drugged. I think he’ll be okay.”
Korak opened his eyes. He said, “I am okay. I was pretending to be unconscious for the past few minutes, waiting for a chance to strike.” Mkuma deeply kissed his lover. “I’m sorry, Mkuma. I was foolish.” He asked, “How did you find us?”
“Slade’s blue sky-cloud. His men said blue meant Barnes.”
On the porch, Barnes was furious. This was not supposed to happen. He was the commissioner of this region. He was in charge. Not these savages and jungle men and criminals. Barnes realized that no one was even acknowledging him, despite the fact that he was the only one of true importance in the crowd. They would all pay. Starting with Slade.
Barnes ordered, “Monkey! Kill Slade! Stab him through the heart!”
Tarzan’s conditioning kicked in. He charged at Slade. At first, no one even noticed, but then, everyone looked. Saad’s men used the distraction to fight back. Mkuma and his warriors reacted with inhuman speed. Fire and Uncle went down in seconds to arrows. That settled the remaining of Saad’s men down, but everyone was standing and mixed up. Behind it all, the apeman leapt and tackled the shocked hunter down, taking his ex-lover to the ground quickly.
As Tarzan raised his knife, his left hand pressed down on Slade’s hairy right pec. The jungle man seemed to react to something. He had a look of confusion, and his eyes darted to his hand, which was seemingly embraced by Slade’s dark and luscious chest fur.
Barnes gleefully screamed in a crazed high-pitched voice, “KILL HIM!”
Across the clearing, Korak was powerless to save Slade. There were too many men between him and Tarzan. In one moment, he was consumed by his emotions. He desperately longed for his lover to notice what was happening. He feared for his new ally Slade. And he mourned for Tarzan, knowing that this act would destroy his friend because somewhere deep inside, Tarzan still loved Slade.
Korak felt one more emotion. Rage. His youthful adrenaline was fueled by it. He might not be able to save Slade, but he would avenge him. Barnes needed to pay. He withdrew his knife and moved to have a clear shot at the evil commissioner.
Slade looked up at blade shining in the sun. Time stopped. A calmness swept over him. The hunter had faced death many times. If he was going to die, he would do it right. He saw Tarzan’s reaction. It reminded him of their first meeting. Slade grabbed Tarzan’s left wrist. The hairy hunter pulled sharply, guiding the hand across the furry pec. The jungle man froze. Hesitated. His eyes couldn’t leave the beautiful chest. Something inside him kept the knife aloft.
Slade was emboldened. He pulled the arm again. Tarzan offered no resistance. He willingly let the hunter move his free hand to Slade’s hairy left pec. As Tarzan’s hand touched the chest, the jungle man whimpered. He remained frozen like a statue. The hunter used Tarzan’s hand to caress Slade’s furry chest. Another small whimper came from the jungle man. Memory fought conditioning. Slade saw the reaction. He was getting through.
Now, Tarzan rubbed the chest of his own volition. The two men locked eyes.
The hunter said, “Slade love Tarzan.”
Tarzan rested his large, strong hand over the hunter’s heart.
“Does Tarzan love Slade?”
The jungle man nodded, “Tarzan love Slade.” His mind cleared. He lowered the knife. Not into Slade’s heart, but into the sheathe at his side, Slade smiled. The muscular beast said in a stronger voice, “Tarzan love Slade.”
Slade said, “Welcome home, Tarzan.”
The two men rose. Across the clearing, Saad’s men were down on their knees, their rebellion accomplished nothing but the deaths of two more men. The warriors and hunters held the uneasy truce. Barnes stood on the wood platform in shock. He knew it was over, but he would exact his revenge. Barnes raised his rifle, aiming it at Slade. No one could convict him for killing the criminal. If Barnes was finished in the jungle, he would exact his pound of flesh.
Slade and Tarzan were lost in each other’s eyes, not realizing the impending danger. Korak was almost in position to throw his knife. Mkuma saw the threat, as well. He drew back his spear and yelled a warning as he thrust his arm forward, “SLADE! BARNES! GUN!” Slade and Tarzan looked at Barnes. The commissioner was pulling the trigger. As he did, Tarzan leapt into action, doing what he always did. Protecting what he loved. And in that instant, what he loved was Slade. The jungle man moved in front of the hairy hunter.
BANG!
The rifle went off. Tarzan took the hit. The bullet tore into the mighty apeman! Blood flew!
Slade screamed in terror, “TARZAN!”
—————
CHAPTER XII: THE END!
COMMISSIONER BARNES CABIN. DEEP IN THE AFRICAN JUNGLE.
“TARZAN!”
Barnes missed his primary target, but he didn’t know it. He had no time to think, much less fire again. Before the bullet even struck Tarzan, he was dead. Mkuma’s spear plunged into Barnes’ chest as Korak’s knife hit him in the temple. SCHLUNK! THWUCK! Both weapons were thrown with deadly accuracy. The spear pierced the older man’s left pec, thrown with such force that it went through the older man. The knife went through his skull and was embedded in halfway deep.
The commissioner collapsed, dead before he hit the porch. PLOP! Unfortunately, both weapons arrived nanoseconds too late.
While Barnes never got to see the effects of his shot, they were felt by those in the clearing immediately. Slade was the closest. He reached Tarzan quickly, crying out, “Why? WHY? WHYYYY?” The mighty ape man fell to the ground on his back, bloody and unmoving. Korak moved through the sea of men, pushing them aside in his panic. Mkuma moved even faster, pointing at one of his men as he dove in to cover the bleeding wound with his big hands.
Doc moved past everyone. One of Slade’s men, a lean ginger man, Doc was recruited years prior, providing much needed medical assistance to Slade’s band of hunters. His skills were never needed more than they were now. He stripped off his jacket and handed it to Mkuma, who used it to contain the bleeding. Behind them, Ramo, the Nagasu warrior Mkuma signaled, shouted instructions to two of his men as he scanned the nearby vegetation.
Doc commanded, “Get him inside!”
 |
| Doc |
In the cabin, it was chaos. Doc had Mkuma continue trying to contain the bleeding while he searched for supplies. Luckily, Barnes had a full stocked medical cabinet for himself. Every outpost had to be its own hospital. Doc found everything he needed, except for two things. Time and blood. He was familiar with the recent work of Karl Landsteiner on blood types, but he had no way of figuring out who was a match. He would have to hope for the best.
Doc told Slade, “I need blood from someone.”
Slade said, “You got me.”
“Put a table beside Tarzan and get on it.”
Ramo came in carrying leaves. Mkuma explained that he was a Nagasu healer. Doc kept working as Ramo used the leaves to cover the bleeding shoulder. With Mkuma free, Doc ordered him and Korak to see if anyone else would give blood. He didn’t want to drain Slade dry. As the muscleboys left, one of Ramo’s men came in with roots. Ramo wiped one off. He put it in the moaning Tarzan’s mouth.
Doc respected jungle medicine. He knew the power of it and allowed Ramo to do his thing while he prepared for makeshift surgery. The triage physician ordered everyone but Ramo and Slade to stay out of the cabin. Outside, Mkuma had taken command. Korak found another of Slade’s men for blood. He sent him inside the cabin. Mkuma told Korak to hunt for more of the herbs Ramo needed. It was busy work to keep his mind off Tarzan’s fight for life.
At Mkuma’s orders, Saad’s men were securely bound to poles. The seven men were carried to the Nagasu village. He wanted them gone before Tarzan’s fate was known.
One of Slade’s men stepped up, “There’s gonna be trouble for killing Barnes, even if the bastard deserved it!”
Mkuma nodded. He showed his keen mind and natural leadership skills. “Barnes ran away like the coward that he is. He shot Tarzan and escaped, knowing that his crimes were exposed.”
Slade’s men nodded. They were used to lying. This lie would be no problem for them. One confirmed, “Okay, we got you.”
“Good. Remove the spear and knife. Carry all the dead deep into the jungle. Stack them. Let the animals feast.” Two warriors nodded and worked. With the body removed, Mkuma scanned the area. He said, “Clean up the blood. Turn the boards. Turn the dirt. Pack it down. If someone comes looking, make them work to understand what happened here.”
The remaining men and warriors started working.
It was over an hour later when Doc stopped working.
Slade saw him step back. He feared the worst, “Doc?”
Doc slowly turned to Slade. He looked his boss in the eyes, “The bullet was lodged deep, but luckily it hit the shoulder.” The hairy hunter hoped that was good. Doc smiled, “Tarzan will live. I got it all out, cleaned him out, and stitched him up. Ramo is treating the wound now.”
One of the Nagasu left to tell Korak and Mkuma. They hugged when they heard the news.
Inside, the doctor shook his head, “No wonder you love the guy, Slade. He’s one helluva tough beast. Just like you. Operated on without anesthetic and he powered through. The jungle herbs helped, but still. Never moved. Made it easy. Tarzan will need to rest, but I think he’ll get most or all his movement back if he works at it. You need to rest, too. We took out a lot of blood.”
Slade shook his head. He sat up and pushed his way past Doc to see his boy. No, his man. The man he loved. Ramo was successfully managing the pain with his holistic knowledge. Tarzan was resting, but he heard the footsteps. He looked up at Slade. Tarzan managed to get one word out, “Win?” Slade nodded. “Boy safe?”
Right on cue, Korak was in the cabin. He answered, “I am, Tarzan.” Korak came over. Tarzan smiled as he sat on the other side of him. So much of the fog that had clouded his mind cleared. The two men he loved most in the world were at his side.
Tarzan saw the tube to his arm. He asked, “What is that?”
Slade smiled, “You needed blood. That filled you with mine.”
The jungle man smiled weakly, “No wonder I live. I have your strength inside me.”
“You’re plenty strong on your own.”
The jungle man suddenly scowled, “Barnes?”
Before Slade could answer, Mkuma lied, “He ran into the jungle to escape with three of Saad’s men. They dropped their guns, so they will not make it a day.” Slade looked up, but Korak nodded at him. He didn’t ask. The young warrior said, “Do not worry, Tarzan. The jungle will judge him. When his people come searching for him, there will be nothing left to find.”
Tarzan looked from side to side. He said to Slade, “I’m sorry. They did something. To me. I am not strong. I was too weak. I couldn’t —”
Slade shook his head, “Don’t. None of this is your fault. All that matters is that you get better.” The hunter said, “Tarzan. I meant it when I said that I love you.”
Tarzan smiled, “Slade. I meant it when I said that I love you.”
The hunter had never cried in his adult life. Until now. Slade held his man’s hand as Tarzan closed his eyes to rest. Korak rose. He patted the hunter on the back and returned to his lover to help with cleanup. Slade stayed with the mighty ape man, leaving the others to take care of business. Doc gave Slade a chair and something eat and drink from Barnes’ stash.
The hairy hunter softly wept with joy as his lover slept.
—————
THREE WEEKS LATER. THE FOOT OF TARZAN’S TREEHOUSE.
Korak asked, “What happened?”
Mkuma embraced his lover, “We won. The government will give us peace. The new commissioner knows his role. Slade believes that he is an honest man.”
Slade said, “It was something to see. The tribes united. Chief Bhaka representing them all. The commissioner’s bosses all the way up the chain were there. Bowing to the Chiefs. Apologizing for Barnes. Saad’s men are in prison. They’re not even investigating Barnes’ disappearance. Just accepting our story. They had no choice. Only other option was war, and they got no taste for that right now. Too soon. Not going to lose a bunch more boys over this jungle.”
Mkuma said, “And my father demanded that Slade and his men be treated as heroes. They have —” He searched for the English words, “— cleared the record.”
“Yep. Not a criminal anymore. Bhaka wanted me as new commissioner, but that wasn’t gonna work for me and it sure wasn’t gonna work for the government. Still, feels strange not to be an outlaw anymore. I can go anywhere I want.” Slade looked at Tarzan, “Of course, there’s only one place I wanna be.”
Korak smiled, “Your new place suits you better, Slade. And the invaders?”
“The companies are pulling back. The tribes are staking posts by the border. They come one foot closer, and everyone will know immediately. We won. We’re safe. For now.”
The hunter moved to Tarzan, who was lounging in a chair. They had set up a tent with cots, as Tarzan could not climb to his treehouse until his shoulder healed. Slade asked with a smile, “How’s our patient? Doc and Ramo were checking on you while I was gone?”
The naked, relaxing Tarzan rose to his feet, “I am happy. I am happier than I have been since I was taken from you.” He raised his injured arm and swung it, “Doc and Ramo have been here every day. I am healed. I just need to work. I need to use my arm. Make it strong again. Can you help me with that?”
Slade grinned, “We can do that. But first …”
The hairy man leaned forward and passionately kissed Tarzan.
Korak and Mkuma left them alone, planning their own reunion. Now that Tarzan was feeling better, the younger jungle man planned to live in the Nagasu village with his lover. The Chief had already given the women of the tribe the task of preparing a bonding ceremony for the two, the tribe’s version of marriage. When Bhaka stepped down, his son would take over with Korak at his side as his consort.
Slade’s men were now living amongst the Nagasu. For the moment, the rugged white men wanted to remain in the jungle, away from society. They enjoyed the newfound feeling of safety, love, and companionship. As well as the easy access to food and sex, not necessarily in that order. They were accepted without question. As recognized allies, they could live peacefully and make a lot more money for their future by working with the tribes. It was a win-win.
While Korak was moving, Tarzan would not be alone. Slade was going to live with him as he disbanded his camp. But for now, the two men weren’t thinking about their future. Their passion had returned full force. Tarzan was mostly free of the torturous training that had twisted his mind. Slade was free of his responsibilities to feed his men and protect the jungle in his way. With Doc’s declaration of a full recovery, they only had to focus on one thing.
Each other.
Once inside the tent, Slade growled, “I wanted to do this the second that you sheathed your knife.”
Tarzan dropped onto his back on the tent floor and spread his legs, “Make me your boy again, Slade. Take me as you want.”
The two men made out passionately. Slade pulled back. He stripped his clothes off. His sizable cock was fully erect and throbbing. The thick, uncut rod curved upward in anticipation. The jungle man moaned. He ached for the hairy man to own him once again. He was also fully erect, his nipples hard, and his mouth drooling.
In his mind, this moment would be tender and romantic, but now, seeing the jungle man with his legs up and hole open, Slade could not wait. He dropped down and lifted Tarzan’s legs higher. The jungle man helped him by holding behind his knees. Slade crawled into place. He wanted to stare into Tarzan’s dark brown eyes as he penetrated him. The mighty ape man gasped as he felt the slick cock head at his hole.
The two men paused for a moment. Locked in a stare. Breathless in anticipation. Each thinking that the other was the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life. Slade pushed forward, powering into his love’s eager hole. Tarzan moaned with pleasure, but he never took his eyes from Slade’s face. He savored the feeling of being conquered by the majestic cock again.
It was like the past years never happened. Slade aggressively owned his lover’s ass, driving deep inside. Tarzan loved every second of it. Just as it had been. From the pain to the ecstasy, he was enraptured by the experience. The jungle man pulled one hand from his knee. He reached up and placed it on the hunter’s furry chest. They smiled together as Slade continued to pound the mighty ape man.
Tarzan’s thick rod was leaking. He felt himself building to climax. The only man to ever bring him to climax hands-free was close to doing it again. Easily. The jungle whimpered. Slade grinned, remembering that sound well. They were those young men of 22 and 18 again, like when they first met. Tarzan grunted like a wild animal. Slade encouraged him as his sweat rained down on the smooth chiseled torso.
The intensity overwhelmed Tarzan first. He let out a loud yell that echoed through the jungle. Korak and Mkuma smiled when they heard it, pausing their own passions. Back in the tent, the mighty ape man’s cock erupted without a touch, spraying its seed past Tarzan’s head. As he convulsed, Slade was captivated, loving seeing Tarzan experiencing a joy that only he could give him. Ropes of cum spewed forth, the jungle man’s load was massive.
Slade was close as well. Tarzan’s hole was clenching on his cock, drawing forth his load. The hunter gasped. His face contorted. “OH YES! TARZAN! MY LOVE!” With that, Slade exploded inside Tarzan. He bred the mighty ape man, painting his insides white as he came. Neither man had had unleashed a large load while Tarzan recuperated, just relying on their hands for relief and it showed. Slade’s orgasm was long.
The hunter moaned as he slid out. He realized his cock was not soft. Neither was Tarzan’s. The men looked at each other. Tarzan grabbed his own cock. He said, “Doc said I need to use my arm.” He opened his mouth. Slade moved forward. The jungle man took the cum-lined cock into his mouth as he vigorously pumped his own cock, flexing his recovering arm.
Slade held Tarzan’s hair, keeping the ape man steady as he face-fucked his lover. The two men came even faster this second time. Tarzan again exploded first, adding a second load onto his torso. The hunter unloaded down Tarzan’s throat, filling the muscleman with his seed. The jungle man greedily drank down everything his man could give him. As he was finishing, Slade slid back, ensuring that the final shots coated Tarzan’s tongue.
The hairy hunter pulled out. He swiped some of Tarzan’s seed from the smooth, muscular torso and sucked on his own finger. Slade leaned in, his mouth tasting of Tarzan’s seed and Tarzan’s filled with Slade’s. The men kissed, mixing their cum as their tongues collided. Slade mounted Tarzan, lying on his cum-coated body, mashing it into his own fur. They enjoyed the romantic moment, knowing it was only the first in their lifetime together.
When they broke, Tarzan pushed up to stand. He shocked Slade by sweeping the hairy hunter up into his arms. The jungle man smiled, “I need to get strong.” The hairy hunter nodded, willing to accept the position. He would accept anything from Tarzan, as long as they were together. The mighty ape man carried Slade out of the tent and all the way to the river. He tossed Slade in and dove after them. They bathed in the clear, clean water.
20 minutes later, they were joined by Korak and Mkuma. Cum dripped from the young jungle boy’s hole. Slade and Tarzan were impressed by the size of Mkuma’s shining manhood. It was soft, but it was the equal of theirs hard. They welcomed the younger men to join them. The four men joyfully caroused and played, but they stayed focused on their lovers as couples. At least on this day, Slade and Tarzan had no interest in anyone but each other.
When sundown approached, The four men lounged naked under the stars. Tarzan snuggled against his man’s furry body. He felt safe. Slade pulled him in close. He wanted the mighty ape man as close to him as possible. They watched the younger musclemen flirt and play, clearly moving towards another round of sex. Slade kissed Tarzan’s forehead. He rose, extending his hand. Tarzan accepted and they moved back into Slade’s relocated tent.
“Fuck, I love you so much, Tarzan. I put it away, but I always loved you.”
“I love you, Slade. I will always love you.”
They settled onto the large cot; their bodies pressed together. Slade’s furry torso pressed tightly against Tarzan’s back. It took no time at all for them to fall asleep to the sounds of the jungle that they defended.
THE END!
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INCREDIBLE series, Alex! So much thought and detail went into this project. The story was quite captivating. I’ll try not to spoil anything, but I remember feeling a sense of despair in Part IV and then silently cheering to myself as events unfolded! It’s not easy as a writer to evoke that kind of emotional investment from the reader. I also recall feeling bad for Slade — something I didn’t think was possible after Part I — when it looked like all his bad karma was coming back to him by taking away the only thing he ever cared about after Barnes’ attack. It seemed like everything was over at that point, but there was so much more story afterwards. Way to go!
ReplyDeleteQuestion: Is the email address listed in your profile still the best way to reach you offline?
Thank you as always for sharing! :)
-JS
Thanks! Yes, this is one that has been in progress for many years. I started very differently as a story called King Korak then meandered through different versions and plots before it became surprisingly romantic and I just went with it.
DeleteYes, the email is still the best way to reach me. I’m just in a not-checking moment due to life stuff. I’ll go look.
This was epic. Wonderfully imaginative and hot at the same time. Have to admit that Barnes fucking Tarzan was very hot, topped (NPI) only by your description of Korak strapped to that long pole. “Grizz and Mercy lifted the pole in unison, dragging up the 220-lbs teen powerhouse. Korak hung from the pole, held at the wrists, ankles, and waist. The jungle boy’s head and long blond hair hung down. At his side, his knife swayed, useless in its sheathe. The muscleboy’s limp manhood dangled and swung with every step the two cruel men took.” Wow, what an image! I guess this shows that I have a kink for watching alpha muscle studs getting dominated!
ReplyDeleteThanks! My love of old Tarzan movies includes all the scenes where Tarzan is captured, bound, and carried. Fight for Life was the big inspiration (Nagasu, Ramo) and has a couple of sexy bondage scenes. Slade’s neck and wrists shackles are right from the movie, but Korak’s is a modified version. It still helps with the description
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