Disclaimer: If you offended by stories of superhuman musclemen with
superhuman strength, and who use this strength for violent purposes,
please do not read on. This story is intended for people who like
muscle snuff stories.
Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle
A Revised Version
By Chip Masterson
Tarzan sniffed the air. He was here, somewhere close.
He listened to beetles crawling over twigs beneath the
raucous cacophony of birds and monkeys that weave the
tapestry of din throughout the jungle. But Tarzan could
hear him breathing, somewhere to the northeast, between
the roots of a tree. He would find the challenger, and
kill him.
Until now Tarzan had had no trouble keeping the Leopard
people in line. Kings either feared and respected his
superiority or ended up weeping, broken, at his feet,
begging for their puny lives. He loved nothing more than
bending strong men to his will, and if they broke, so much
the better. Tarzan's ripped chest swelled with pride as
he thought how he, a white man of noble (therefore effete)
blood, had adapted to jungle life more successfully than
any native-born man ever had. Being reared among gorillas
forced him to develop their strength, their affinity with
all other creatures; yet his human mind endowed him with
strategy and a natural dominance that made every beast grovel
and obey. Only men were too dense, too proud to recognize
his supremacy, but he had always cracked and shattered that
density and pride with muscles that never failed to work his
will. Nor would they ever fail.
He felt the earth tremble to the northwest. Elephants? The
rumbling got louder, and his feet told him the earth was
splitting apart behind him. Suddenly the breath he had heard
wasn't there anymore, replaced by a huge ripping. The sound
of thick fast roots being torn up, away from their grasp of
the solid earth, split the air. Thick green wood splitting
apart, ripping open from unbearable pressure filled the jungle
as Tarzan whirled around, just in time to see a massive baobab
teeter, crack and collapse under its own weight directly toward
him, spewing birds and monkeys from its clamoring branches.
With ease an Olympic gymnast would envy he tumbled out of the
way, landing upright, with head clear and vision precise, as
ancient tonnage crushed all life before it in its cataclysmic
dethronement. Soggy dust and moist leaves blew up in a cloud
from the impact, but Tarzan's nose found the source of that
tree's downfall standing directly before him. When the dust
settled, he gazed up at the warrior glistening with sweat.
Clad only in a leopard-skin loincloth, the giant towered over
Tarzan by more than a foot. His shoulders half again as wide
as the ape-man's, his chest and back tremendously more muscled,
his waist as narrow and tight, and his thighs rippling with power
held in check, the warrior looked down at the white man with
contempt. Now was the time to avenge a lifetime of wrong, his
eyes said. But the man was silent and Tarzan wondered if he were
really of the Leopard. He seemed Bantu, but Maasi also. Hugely
powerful.
Tarzan felt no fear. He had fought bigger men before, and broken
them across his hardened shoulders with peaked biceps and irresistible
fingers. No muscled warrior could match his swiftness, his
dexterity, the wiry ape-strength unleashed from densely packed
striations. This lumbering fool would be no different. With
blinding speed, Tarzan reared back and punched his opponent's
gut with a fist that had shattered many a thick door.
Instantly Tarzan's brain was lit with searing pain. When he
opened his eyes he saw his wrist bent inward and beginning
already to swell. His hand flashed and throbbed and behind his
stinging fingers was the brick-walled abdomen of the Leopard
People's champion, blushed by the slightest redness. The giant
sighed and swung a back-hand down, a hand as big as Tarzan's face.
Agony erupted along cracked facial bones as the almost casual
impact lifted the ape-man off his feet and propelled him through
the air.
Tarzan's savage fury ignited and the pain burned like fuel. Ignoring
his bruised wrist and swelling cheekbone he leapt through the air
like a cat with force enough to knock the warrior off-balance. The
fell together into the underbrush and Tarzan twisted around behind
him, wrapping his iron-hard right biceps around his throat and pulling
it tight with his left hand. His legs wrapped around his challenger's
abdomen and put out the kind of pressure that had ruptured pipelines.
With a snarl he dug into the dark man's flesh with everything fiber of
strength.
Tarzan reveled in the feeling of his great, round biceps hardening as
it contracted into the warrior's windpipe. He felt the man's traps
and neck tighten in response, tighten hard, and he pulled his forearm
into them with his other biceps. Another man's neck would have been
mashed to pulp with the dense power but the warrior kept breathing,
straining his neck while his arms lay curiously at his sides. Tarzan
dug his heels into the man's lower belly and tried to bring his knees
together through the thick muscle. The man's abdominals and lower back
were amazingly tough, not simply hard like the stones Tarzan has crushed
but resilient, living, and fighting back. The ape-man began to labor
as he pressed his sinewy thighs against that unyielding belly, his heels
unable to dent the leathery flesh. An ache began to throb down his back
and spark across his shoulders, and his breathing became harsh. Each
inhalation brought the dark man's scent of sweat, with a salty undertone
of semen that exuded from his pores, mixed with Tarzan's own feverish musk.
As Tarzan looked agape at his legs pumping uselessly against the unyielding
muscle, the man's enormous cock was tenting the loincloth. As he watched,
he heard a slight ripping sound.
The ape-man shook wildly, pouring his force into the resistant
neck but the head wouldn't move and the windpipe wouldn't yield
to all his muscle power. In fact, the giant began laughing,
sending deep vibrations into Tarzan's body. With a sharp contraction
the native leapt to his feet with Tarzan still clinging to his
back. He stepped backward until Tarzan was up against the bole
of a great baobab and he leaned into it, laughing louder.
The incredible pressure immediately deflated Tarzan's lungs. He
tensed the rigid muscles of his body and felt the vast trunk groan
behind him as the warrior's thighs, each larger than his own waist,
kneaded the ground and rubbed that back against the tree. Lats
spread out, completely covering Tarzan in a blanket of rippling
muscle; he felt his ribs begin to bend despite his armor's protection.
Tree bark ground to crumbs behind his own ridged muscle and green
sap scented the air. His arms and legs let go of the giant and tried
to push him away, but he continued to press up and back, the tree
creaking as its roots began to fight for their hold in the earth.
Desperately Tarzan cried out for aid, calling for lions, elephants,
anything that was near and would come as the insane power crushed his
impotent muscles against the crackling tree trunk.
The crashing of underbrush was music to Tarzan's ears as animals
responded to their master's call. The giant snorted with contempt
and stepped forward, dropping Tarzan into the roots that had pulled
and loosened from the ground. He jumped up and felt his bruised ribs,
gasping for breath. The tree groaned and creaked, settling back into
the harrowed earth, limbs swaying as it sought a new balance.
The animals ranged before them, waiting for Tarzan's command. Three
large silverback gorillas, two enormous lions, a bull elephant with
tusks that stood like spears before it, and a white rhinoceros, stamping
the ground. The animals ignored each other's presence and stood tense,
waiting, sensing danger. Tarzan stepped out from behind the warrior
massive back, marveling despite himself at the wealth of power
running like rivers from those shoulders, hanging like intricate
tapestries of conquest. He eyed each of the animals individually,
and with a sudden shout, commanded them to attack en masse.
The animals shifted nervously, anxiously, but didn't move. The
warrior stared at them all with contempt. The apes began to
scream and fling their hands and dirt threateningly into the air
and one lion roared, flashing huge fangs. The African glared and
snarled back at them, almost as loudly, flexing his pecs into
rivals of Mount Kenya and Kilimanjaro. Tarzan barked orders again
and the rhino stamped the ground and the bull elephant trumpeted
and flapped his ears. The African sneered and showed one biceps to
the animals. Each animal jumped back, growling and snapping and
screaming. Holding both arms up, he pumped his arms, squeezed his
fists and his biceps grew higher. He looked at one tense flexing
muscle, then the other, with arrogant pride. The animals screamed
and roared, jumping in place but refusing to rush him. The giant
raised his chin and glared defiantly at the zoo facing him, bending
into a crab flex that showed traps raising like mountains above horrible
shoulders, muscle peaking out of every angle.. He straightened his
arms out and contracted his biceps again, making them larger than
before, capped by peaks that made Tarzan tremble inside, full and round
and granite-hard yet twitching with muscle fibers that mocked the skin
stretching to cover them. He glared at the animals and matched their
combined intensity with his chest-shaking roars.
Tarzan smelled the sharp familiar scent of gorilla urine.
Looking at his colleagues, he saw them throwing sticks and
running away. Three big males were too threatened by the man
who roared back at them, looking them in the eye and threatening
their strength with his massiveness. As they fled he beat
his mounded chest in mockery. The lions lunged forward but
he lunged at them and they retreated; back and forth they
paced, eyes skittering, conflicted between their loyalty to
Tarzan and their growing fear of this man who flexed evident
superior strength in their faces. Tarzan shouted hoarsely and
one great cat lunged at the man with terror in its eyes as it
sped toward the giants face. The man caught its half ton weight,
arms outstretched, and held it away from his face while it clawed
the air and snapped its slavering fangs at him.
Tarzan watched aghast as the man laughed. He brought the half-ton
lion towards him like a naughty child and screamed at it through
gritted teeth. The lion feel limp and silent, streaming urine and
shit into the dirt as it felt hard human fingers dig past its mane
into its hide. The man shook it like a doll, massive black arms
pumping the half-ton beast in the air. The lion's eyes rolled and
its paws scrambled for release. Tarzan grew lightheaded as the
warrior reared back with one bulging arm and actually threw the
lion at the other one with such force he knocked them both back
behind the trees, snarling and screaming. They never returned.
Now he turned slowly to the two gray giants, the near-blind rhino
and the savvy elephant. Tarzan, desperate for his life and willing
to sacrifice anything, ordered the rhino to charge in words that
promised death through a choking only Tarzan's hands could effect on
that huge neck. Without room for much speed the rhino leapt and
aimed for the scent of the man. The giant crouched and raced toward it.
The impact deafened Tarzan and shook the ground. The warrior hit
the two-ton rhino's long front horn with his chest-and kept going.
The horn cracked audibly as the thick neck twisted under the jolt
and with a sharp grunt the animal fell back on its pounding feet.
It flopped on its side, dazed, as the warrior ploughed over it and
came back. With a leap he landed on the calloused, rolled hide
and ribs cracked like rifle shots. The man's big feet stomped
along the animal's length, crushing hips and legs, mashing hard muscle
and lacerating the tough hide. The rhino screamed and thrashed and
tried to drag itself away but the man's pumping thighs kept crushing
the bloodying tonnage into the soft jungle rot. Tarzan watched in
horror as the man trampled the huge rhino to a pulp.
The rhino's head lifted, foam and blood bubbling from its mouth.
Tarzan flew at the warrior and knocked him off the dying beast.
They tumbled together through the forest and despite his injured
wrist he grabbed the warrior's hands and dragged his arms behind
his back. Rage tensed his own muscles to heroic proportions as he
sought to rip the arms out of their sockets. His delts rose like
thunderheads and his back spread out in a fan of power which he
poured into the twisting cables of his arms, focused in a grip that
could shatter a coconut or peel steel bars apart.
Tarzan met his first resistance in the deep muscle that massed
between the man's shoulder blades, its very thickness and density
stopping the arms from moving. With a smirk Tarzan used them as
fulcrums to yank those arms out of their pits. Tarzan's pecs
swelled and pressed together, growing red and hard. He thought
he heard bones cracking and the tear of muscle until he looked up
and saw man laughing, and realized it was his own joints straining
to move arms that had grown rigid and firm. Tarzan watched in
frustration as that black back rippled and grew. The big man
flexed his stretched biceps; even extended behind him they bulged
with obscene brawn. His thick back writhed in concert with forearms
that seemed to inflate and grew difficult to hold onto. Tarzan
labored and raged but the arms slowly moved forward, pulling Tarzan
unwillingly toward that twisting morass of overwhelming muscle force..
The man's arms moved harder against Tarzan's pull, forcing him forward.
He began drawing his arms up, his biceps peaking and swelling in
amazing breadth. Tarzan shook and trembled as the last of his
advantage was burned away by his enemy's brute virility. Tarzan
released his hold and sprang back, expecting the man to pitch forward;
but thighs that seemed like living men held fast. When the native
turned around Tarzan saw the head of his cock juicing its way out
of the tented loincloth, wet with precum and filling the air with a
raw salty stench. Tarzan couldn't tear his eyes away from the shocking
member and saw the rips weren't to the seams but were through the
leather itself. Like the man himself, it burst straight out through
the leather, not deviating for any so-called obstacle. Then he started
coming for Tarzan.
The ape-man fled, leaping and clawing his way atop the elephant. He
ordered the elephant to gore the man and the five-ton bull charged.
The warrior caught the tusks and stepped backward, bringing the charging
beast to a halt in a few paces. Then he started to lift.
Tarzan felt the elephant tense and panic as its own unbearable weight
was cantilevered onto its tusks. The huge head tried to twist free
but the giant's inexorable grip crushed the tusks into his sides; the
bone stressed under unknowable pressure until the ivory creaked.
Those arms kept squeezing and lifting and the elephant felt vertebrae
start to snap. It grabbed at the man's head with its trunk but he
bit at it, drawing blood through the tough skin. Sharp reports blew
out of the cracking tusks until each splintered along its length,
unable to resist against those obdurate arms. The bull screamed as
the tusks broke off and blood bubbled down its trunk. The giant laughed
as the animal reared up and away, tossing Tarzan into the undergrowth
and bringing its entire weight down onto the man.
The man's big hands caught the elephants' flat feet and the impact
drove him into the ground up to his shins. His skin glowed with
sweat and his cock started to dribble as he held the animal off
the earth, securing his grip between the tight toes. The elephant
twisted and screamed and the man pulled a foot loose with an explosion
of soil and stepped forward. Forcing tons up into the air with arms
that barely trembled, the took another step, and another. He walked
the terrified, captive beast backward until it was upright. Then
releasing, he caught the animal again as it plunged to the ground-across
his shoulders. His hands secured their hold in the hip joint and
breastplate, and he pressed the animal up over his head. Ten thousand
pounds of panicked beast held defenseless in his hands, he continued to
press the animal up and down, cracking branches above and pumping
those biceps to inhuman fullness. Tarzan pissed involuntarily as he
watched the veins snake down over those gigantic biceps, living, growing
rocks of conquering brawn. With a roar greater than any animal could
issue he bent at the knees and THREW the elephant at Tarzan. Again
Tarzan rolled out of the way as the tremendous animal crashed down beside
him, wind knocked from its lungs, rendering it incapable of screaming
as two legs broke on impact. To save the animal's life Tarzan grabbed
a vine and swung away.
Swinging from vine to vine Tarzan could move faster, for longer, than
any animal except a bird. So he was stunned to terror to see, after
a quarter hour of frantic flight, the man directly in his path. The
warrior grabbed the trunk of the tall tree and circled it with his arms.
With a deep breath he squeezed. Wood shattered out from around his
thick arms. He squeezed again, his back thick and wet with pungent sweat.
His arms ground deeper into the trunk and bits of bark and wood burst
outward. Tarzan took the vine depending from its upper branches just
as the giant squeezed a last time, sending chips and chunks of wood flying
as the tree shivered along its shattering length. As the vine took
Tarzan's weight the warrior let go and split-riven truck, grotesquely
waisted, cracked and sank into ravaged planks, taking Tarzan down with it.
The giant's big feet smashed their way through pulping wood in a straight
line to where Tarzan lay, quivering. He stood over the ape-man and spit
in his face. Tarzan didn't dare wipe it off. "You lord it over us,
white man, as if you were inevitable." His Swahili was flawless, and
could have been learned anywhere along the coast. "You dominate weaker
men, who kill off or exile stronger men. I am their vengeance. I am the
king of this jungle now, and the animals will obey me. I belong here.
You belong with your bullying kind: in your grave.
"Go ahead and call your precious animals to your rescue. See if they
come." The giant warrior crossed arms bristling with splinters before
a chest that shadowed the ape-man's wiry, bruised and beaten musculature.
Tarzan rose, shakily, and putting his hands to his lips, bellowed his
great call. Lungs fueled by desperation powered his ululation through
the jungle, and it fell strangely quiet. Birds stopped calling, monkeys
stopped chattering and sat on their branches, and the entire forest settled
into an eerie silence. Again he called, his throat growing hoarser with
each cry, until he felt giant fingers enclose his wrists and begin to smoothly
straighten out those battle-hardened biceps. Tarzan strained and flexed
and pulled but the fingers dug into his wrists. His muscles trembled
with the strain as he felt his arms grow as hard as they ever had-and be
outmuscled. The giant barely breathed as he pulled and Tarzan, gasping,
chest heaving with the strain, watched in terror as his mighty arms
straightened Tarzan grimaced with a last effort and felt the muscles tear
across the peaks of his biceps, down deep into the tendons. He opened his
eyes to see the red blood beneath the skin as his arms vainly tore themselves
apart. The great man stopped short of snapping those arms like twigs
beneath their ropes of muscle, and instead turned Tarzan around.
A mountainous biceps secured Tarzan's throat as a hand tore loose his
own leather loincloth and his cockhead tickled the smaller man's tightened
glutes. Come dripped from the red slit like saliva as it circled the
globes of the ape-man's ass, lightly, gently, coaxingly. Tarzan's hands
couldn't get a grasp on the forearm that occasionally tensed the biceps
against his windpipe to remind him to remain calm... and compliant.
Then the cock gently, irresistibly parted his cheeks and probed toward
the hole.
Taking its time and creaming its way in the cock's firm pressure twisted
Tarzan's gut and made his own mighty dick begin to swell. Impossible!
his mind screamed, that I should be stirred by this ... this monster!
But stirred he was as the giant moved his nose through Tarzan's unkempt
mane, and big teeth chewed gently the scalp beneath, as if grooming
him like an ape.
"You like it, don't you, ape-man? Admit to me you like it. It's what
you've really wanted, isn't it? You want me, I know you do. Don't
pretend to yourself, for I know you. I've watched you. I've hungered
for you. And now you're mine and it's what you crave." The giant
chuckled and the wet, iron-rod cock sank past Tarzan's puckering sphincter
and thrust firmly upward.
Tarzan felt his body relax, as if it were going to release everything
inside of it, and sobbed as come spat out of his cock. The black man
continued his slow rape of the white man in his arms, moving more slowly
with each plunge until only millimeters of motion sent shockwaves through
the ape-man's psyche. The big black man smiled at his complete mastery
of the small wild man, and kept up his slow rape as the sun took it's dim
light from the jungle's broken canopy and Tarzan came himself, again, and
again, and yet again, beneath the power of the man who held back again
and again and again.
The giant pulled out without coming and the former lord of the jungle
fell to his knees, gasping, dry ejaculations still cramping his washboard
midsection. He looked up fearfully from under his long, limp hair
and trembled at the sight of the proud man standing before, fully erect,
fully in control of not only his own orgasm but of the ape-man's body,
soul and mind. The man kicked him Tarzan in the belly and sent him flying
onto his back, his dick still spasming uncontrollably. Pleasure like
wildfire swept through the pain firing out of his core into every limb:
mentally he had to collapse before the overwhelming power this man unleashed
over and within his world. He uttered one word, stuttering: "P-papa."
The giant spit on him.
He grabbed Tarzan by his hair and dragged him upright, to stand like a
man should. He tensed his other arm and the biceps rose like a dark
thundercloud, a storm of rock-solid power. And waited. Tarzan's heart
beat in his ears as he realized what he needed, most desperately needed
above anything else: beyond food, water, herbs to sooth his near-fractured
joints and pulled muscles. He needed to kiss it.
Not daring to move, his eyes sought permission. The giant sneered his
approval and pumped the god higher on its unholy throne. Tentatively
Tarzan's lips quivered, then touched the flaming hot flesh, jerking back
as if stung. Hunger racked his being and he put his lips and tongue on
the muscle belly, sucking off the sweat and reveling in the feel of tissue-like
skin clinging to a gnarled cannonball. A grumbling chuckle quaking out
from the giant's chest was the only thing that could shake that lump of hot
steel, and Tarzan felt it in his teeth before he heard it with his ears,
now singing with the rush of his own blood.
A hand clamped over the back of his head, tightening enough so the
plates of his skull ground against their joints. The hand moved his
salivating mouth higher up the muscle, then higher, then higher still,
leaving his drool to hang off the deep, rippling triceps in thick ropes.
It seemed like an ageless ascent before Tarzan's mouth reached the summit
of that arm, the tight dense peak that towers over the pilgrims below.
The hand pressed Tarzan's mouth into the peak so it had to widen, then
widen further. Still there was more muscle and Tarzan tried to relax but
it seemed as if the muscle in his mouth was still impossibly growing, pumping
higher. Still the hand forced him down onto it and he felt a painful
pop as his jaw slipped out of joint to accommodate the man's engorged biceps.
But that pain was just a prelude.
The hand began to grind Tarzan's unstrung mouth against the hard flesh.
His teeth pressed against his jaws, yet the pressure increased. The muscle
didn't dint, it seemed to harden. A huge thumb moved under his jaw and
big fingers clamped across his head and squeezed his mouth shut even as they
forced it farther down over the muscle. His incisors strained and broke
backwards into his mouth: searing pain blinded him. The pressure built.
His sharp canines couldn't puncture the skin and one by one they cracked down
to the root. His arms involuntarily shoved against the giant's immovable
torso and his legs scrambled against the forest floor but that one huge mitt
controlled his head, shoving and closing and grinding it until one by one
each tooth his head shattered in screaming, choking agony. The jagged shards
of ivory that were once flesh-rending teeth finally nicked the skin around
the biceps and nickel-like taste of the giant's blood trickling into his
mouth, mixing with his own.
The giant grunted and pulled Tarzan's head away, applying a migraine-inducing
squeeze before letting go. The ape-man's jaw hung slackly, a bleeding ruin,
while the man inspected his torn skin. Tarzan stood, still trembling, until
he saw a giant index finger mere inches away from his eyes. He focused on it,
and followed it as it carried his attention up, across the great plains of ridged
chest to the scraped biceps, now resting full and thick on the outstretched arm.
It pulsed there, like some sort of sleeping beast. Tarzan waited, taking in the
size of that recumbent muscle, the peak rising even while relaxed. Then the
finger traveled up toward the giant's face.
Tarzan's gut clenched as his eyes met the man's, and saw in them the
stern disapproval. The man shook his head slowly and the white man felt
like shriveling, wilting, dying under that fierce gaze; yet something
inside him told him to remain standing, that's what the giant demanded.
The finger traveled down to the giant's mouth, and he bared dazzlingly
white, square, solid teeth. The finger pointed at the teeth showing,
lingering a moment at each one, until the lips closed in a frown. Then
the finger moved back towards Tarzan's own mouth: and he knew what he had
to do.
He reached into his mouth and grabbed hold of a broken tooth, cutting
his thumb. His arm tensed and with all his jungle strength he ripped
the tooth out by its bloody root. His eyes closed and watered against
the pain but his fingers reached in again, triceps trembling with the
effort, grabbed and yanked another one. His heart raced from agony and
fear and he tore into himself again, and again, and again, having to
support his lower jaw with one hand to pull those offensive cracked
ivories. When he felt like sobbing he opened his eyes, and through the
blear of tears saw the man standing with his arms crossed across his
massive chest, forearms pressed up and downward larger and more vascular
than the ape-man's fully-pumped upper arms. He knew the source of
disapproval, and knelt down to collect the teeth where they'd fallen.
Trying to knock the loose soil off surreptitiously, he straightened up,
threw his head back and tossed them in.
Each serrated end sliced his esophagus as he swallowed them, wincing
but still not daring the cry out as the man grinned. He seemed to debate
which would be more pleasurable, watching Tarzan slowly cannibalize
himself or taking a more active role in his destruction. Turns out he's
a hands-on kind of guy.
As Tarzan forced down the last cracked molar and felt the sour brokenness
cutting in his belly, a hand grabbed his hair again and jerked him off the
ground. His scalp burned with the pain as he was carried toward the giant,
who wanted to play a little game. He swung the ape man out. When he
swung back and hit the giant's sternum, he flexed his inches-deep pecs
against Tarzan's shoulder and arm. Out, back, crunch; out, back, scrunch.
On the third swing the deltoid could no longer shield the shoulder joint
and the bones were forced out of their sockets; on the fourth impact, the
pecs flexed and held, forcing stress fractures out to shatter both
collarbone and humerus. Tarzan screamed through his torn gums, a pathetic
loose-jawed bellow.
The giant threw him up and caught him on either side of his body. Slowly
he fed Tarzan's body up through the clamping jaws of his pecs, moving and
flexing as bones smashed all down the ape-man's arm. He flopped the smashed
arm down and matched his pec muscle against Tarzan's hip, reveling in the
big bone's splitting apart and Tarzan's howls. Grabbing Tarzan by the hair
again, he held the ape-man behind him and proceed to smash the bones on the
other side of his body with the clashing plates of his shoulder blades, a
deeper, stronger chasm. He spread his lats wide, placed the ape-man against
his spine, and SMASHED his blades together: erectors and teres major and all
the other thick, interlocking powerhouses ground Tarzan's bones to powder
beneath his outmatched, ropy muscles. Tarzan now made a curious "hee-hee-hee-hee"
sound as his eyes rolled into his skull. Using Tarzan for triceps extensions,
the giant continued his torture and pumped his arms at the same time.
His back was wide enough to accommodate the ape-man's thick thigh,
and he relished the feeling of muscle pressing against muscle. He
worked his back to compress those quads but Tarzan's strength was
rapidly draining out through pain and humiliation. Those rock-lifting
thighs proved no contest against those contracting lats and the femur
beneath them cracked open like a pecan. Without resting his reddening
arms he flipped Tarzan around and proceeded to pulverize his other side.
He whipped Tarzan back over his head and held him like an unstrung
puppet before him. Flipping him up he caught him under the limp arms
between his own meaty forearms: and started to roll him back and forth.
He ground him around and around, slowly stressing his ribs, feeling the
proud bone begin to cave against the muscular flesh of his lower arms.
He clenched his fists as he rolled to increase the size of his forearm
muscle without bringing his arms closer together, and the inward bulge
of those mighty sinews bent and sprang the ape-man's ribcage inward toward
his organs. One by one the torso that had withstood thousands of
gorilla-strength blows crushed inward, ribs bending past their breaking
point, muffled crackling sounds accompanying the soft moans that crawled out
of Tarzan's spinning, blood-spewing mouth. When the torso had been
softened and ground to a slug-like consistency, he dropped it.
His foot rose to impact the back and crack it in half with a kick that
sent Tarzan bursting up through the canopy of foliage, his broken body
tearing against the branches he struck as he flashed briefly into the
splendid sunlight. For a moment the heat felt wonderful on his many
wounds but gravity-and his lord-dragged him back down beneath the leaves.
Branch-spears pierced him as he plummeted into the darkness and numbness
began to seep from his paralyzed lower extremities up toward his head.
Realizing this, the giant caught Tarzan in his arms as easily as
if his two-hundred pound body, falling a hundred feet, had been a feather;
it made a soft, squishy sound hitting those broad hands. Smiling into
the dying ape-man's face, he placed a hand over it: and contracted his palm.
Tarzan's beautiful beaten features splintered and crumbled beneath that
calloused hand, high cheekbones flattening, nose smashing and eye sockets
caving in. Thick fingers massaged that face into a pulp as the light
finally faded in Tarzan's brain, and the last thing he knew was the
irresistible lordship of the Man-God of the Jungle and his beaming,
handsome, eternal face.
THE END
chipmasterson@yahoo.com
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