DISCLAIMER: This story contains graphic violence and brutal sexual scenes which may offend. Please do not read if sadism, brutality and sexual erotic violence are not something you find palatable.

Chapter 16 Finishing Touches

A foamy white substance began to flow from the hero’s mouth. He coughed and choked, expelling great amounts of blood and bile onto the soft dirt jungle floor. Piss and blood flowed from the gaping frontal cunt left by his emasculation. His bowels released and the three men recognized the final signals of approaching death. They had seen it many times before but to Tarzan’s credit-he lasted longer than any before.

It was time to let nature take its course… or perhaps lend a bit of a helping hand if necessary. Mark knelt by Tarzan’s head and actually stroked his long, sandy blond hair. He had a few things he still wanted to say to his victim before his final breath. Ironically, it was then that he noticed that his captive had completely stopped breathing. Mark was not willing to allow that- so he leaned down and began to perform CPR. Placing his lips over Tarzan’s mouth, he breathed life giving air into the man’s lungs. In between breaths he spoke:

“No…no! We can’t have you dying on your own terms. You die when I allow you to die. You’re not in control. Ah ………you’re back. Yes…I can see it in your eyes …you’re back with us. Good!”

Mark added a few additional breaths to make sure the weakened man was back again. Tarzan’s respiration became regular again and his color began to improve.

“You’ve lasted a long time—much longer than we ever expected. You never really had a chance in this fight. We both know that. And now you’re holding on again… that’s good, Tarzan. That gives me a chance to say a few more things to you. Let me whisper them to you- so only you and I can hear.”

As Mark placed his lips to Tarzan’s ear and began to whisper, the dying hero began to shake…, his eyes rolled back in his head… breathing once again became labored…, his eyelids began to flutter as he took this last and final step to an overdue grave.

Mark placed his ear to the man’s chest and after a few moments began to give a running commentary of what he heard:

“His heart is still beating… faint… but still beating………ahhhhhhhhhhhh…but now faltering…, skipping a few beat s…hmmmmmmmmm…, starting again …now …stopping… hmmmm …another few beats …then one more…… one more…… ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh … nothing ………nothing…, NO——-THING!”

Holding his hand to Tarzan’s neck, Mark reported the lack of a pulse for the jungle hero.

“What did you say to him at the end, boss. What pushed him over the edge?” asked Frank.

“I told him that his dick-less son and whore wife may love him now…but eventually they will grow to hate and despise him for what he has allowed to happen. Every time they are raped or abused by a man, they will hate him that much more. And, to make sure of that …we will remind them every time we fuck them. Through their pain we will again and again make clear why this all happened and who fucking failed them. I think it was at that point when his renewed rage caused Tarzan’s heart to finally give out. That was all it took!”

The trio looked at each other and nodded their satisfaction. They slapped each other on the back and exchanged congratulations. Some assignments were just jobs. This one was one they would long remember-something to savor in their mind’s eye. This one not only made them rich men and would continue producing revenue for a long time. This one also redefined who they were as individuals and as a team.

Each man on the team had been expected to use the skills and techniques for which he was best known. Alone they were each formidable. Together, they were undefeatable and worth every penny Paid for their services. Mark opened a bottle of fine wine to begin their celebration. He proposed a toast:

“Gentlemen, the syndicate knew what they were doing when they secured our services. Rich beyond our dreams, we now have earned a reputation which guarantees that our services will be in demand not just on this continent…but world-wide. I’d like to make a toast to the person who has made all this possible—our strong, but not very bright adversary here. I lift my glass to the Tarzan…the late, great King of the Jungle.

Here’s to one of the best fucks and “fuck-ups” I’ve ever encountered! May he rest in peace….and a second toast to what we have become…an effective killing squad…disciplined and lethal. We are a deadly trio. And because of that I christen us…with the name, DARK TRINITY. I think we may in time become as infamous as our dead opponent here. I RAISE A TOAST TO US …DARK TRINITY“

All three lifted their glasses and drank heartily. After they emptied the bottle, Frank took Tarzan’s boy into a nearby clearing for some well deserved fucking and Austin did the same with Jane. Mark sat nearby pleasantly musing about whether there were other crime fighting heroes in other parts of the world that other crime syndicates would want hunted down and taken out.

He already knew the answer to that question.

Chapter 17 Epilogue

Two years passed. A tall, well built man in his mid 40’s smiled contentedly as he watches a handsome, naked eunuch in his mid 20’s open his mouth and slowly suck his thick, hard cock inside. The young eunuch’s cock sucking skills were incredible-he’d been trained well. This boy was no novice; undoubtedly the product of years of corrective experience.

He luxuriously wrapped his long tongue around the man’s cock and massaged it while allowing the man to face fuck him—long and deep. The man stared down into the boy’s deep blue eyes. Eunuchs were difficult to find but when found always proved to be expertly refined in their talents and dedicated service.

The man leaned back, enjoying the amazing pleasure waves radiating from his cock and gonads. He knew this was just the beginning of what he expected from this boy. The hefty price he paid entitled him to first class service and that’s exactly how things were starting out. He laced his fingers behind the boy’s head and held it in place for greater control. He face fucked the boy, the intensity of his thrusts growing as cum began to fill his engorged cock.

Abruptly he withdrew and addressed the boy.

“Has anyone ever told you how much you look like that fuckin’ ape man that used to prowl this area? You could be blood kin to that fucking son of a bitch!”

The boy meekly responded, “I’ve been told that…, but he’s no relative of mine.”

The man harshly continued, “Good thing you aren’t! That mother fucker busted up my smuggling business 10 years ago and I just got out of prison. If I ever run into him… he’s dead meat! I can’t believe how much you look like him.”

The boy spoke again, “Would it arouse you to pretend that I’m the man you hate?”

“Fuck yeah! I’m paying for pleasure—and that would feel REAL GOOD, BOY! But….you’re in for a world of hurt…A FUCKING WORLD OF HURT!”

The excited ex-con then turned the eunuch around, wrapped his burly arm around the boy’s neck and began to deliver kidney punches just above the belt line. He arched the boy’s back and commenced a series of strangle holds that left the boy gasping for breath. The boy hardly made a sound. He seemed to want the brutality.

The older man’s unlubed cock suddenly entered the boy’s ass and another violent rape began. The frontal cunt would be next. A faint smile spread acrossed the eunuch’s face as his eyes glazed over and he pretended to be the man his temporary owner wanted him to be. The feel of pulsating cock in his ass somehow felt right…it was what he needed.

Behind a two way mirror sat the boy’s real owner, sipping brandy and stroking his cock.

He watched as the boy was lifted by the throat and held against the wall as his boy cunt was assaulted again and again. The man behind the glass also gazed at two beautiful clear glass jars carefully placed on a nearby shelf, each filled with alcohol, each holding a well preserved set of balls and cocks. Though no one could hear, the man quietly spoke:

“He does this every time someone mentions his resemblance to his father. He hates him more with every passing day. You gotta LOVE it!”

The man quietly chuckled, took another sip of brandy and leaned back to enjoy the show. On his desk before him lay a signed contract. Across the top of the document, in bold type it read:

CONTRACT TO: DARK TRINITY
Subject: The Capture and Termination of Batman and Robin
From: The Gotham Crime Syndicate

To be continued on the second part of this trilogy DARK TRINITY VS. THE DYNAMIC DUO, coming soon