Tarzan – Deposed Jungle Lord
Author: L. Cross – Approx. 2010.
Moderately enhanced/embellished/expanded/edited by Rick Henry, 10-2021.
Part 4 “Taming the Jungle Lord”
A half hour later Tarzan is fully awake and thrashing around blindly in the sand, grunting and snarling through the ball gag pulling at the leather restraints that bind his arms tightly behind his back. The hunter watches in amusement as the jungle man thrashes his head wildly, trying to free himself of the tight leather gorilla hood over his head, as he begins to panic and freak out at the darkness and his captivity. Rather expected, snorts the hunter to himself, with little compassion.
The hunter rises and approaches the struggling young man, reining in the ball-leash tightly. Tarzan struggles frantically, twisting on his chest in the sandy soil as he too well feels the sharp constant tug on his manhood. Deprived of sight and hearing, he instinctively shifts his body in the sandy soil and follows the direction of the tug on his balls, rising up onto his knees before his unseen captor. The hunter smiles and tugs upward, hard and sharp again, on the ball-leash, and commands loudly, “Up, gorilla boy!” Encouraged by the roughly consistent upward painful tug on his ball shackle, Tarzan struggles to his feet and stands blindly before the hunter, unsteadily still shaking his gorilla-hooded head, urgent to be free of the confining hood and large ball gag inserted in his mouth. He desperately tries to break the leather wrist restraints attached to the tight leather collar that hold his powerful arms secure behind his muscular torso, but cannot. Tarzan tries to move away blindly… but the hunter reins in the ball-leash and pulls the big man back towards him. The hunter jerks the leash hard again, and Tarzan stumbles unsteadily and confused towards his unseen captor, still testing his arm restraints and shaking his head that is confined tightly in the cruel, grotesque leather hood.
“You are a big boy,” comments the hunter, looking his strapping prize up and down. “Kinda like a wild horse caught for the first time. You need to be broken, boy. I might as well get started!”
The hunter brings the length of chain attached to the top of the shackle locked around Tarzan’s ball sack up to Tarzan’s chest. The hunter smiles at the young man in the ridiculous gorilla hood and attaches the chain to the D ring on the leather collar of the neck-wrist restraints around Tarzan’s strong neck. Tarzan futilely struggles but the hunter holds his balls firmly in place with his grip on the ball shackle’s chain. Tarzan’s mighty arms and legs instinctively flex as he moves confined before the hunter, trying to defend another part of his body he senses is being leashed. Hooded, Tarzan is completely blind to what is coming; he has only felt the steel grip around his maleness, and now the tight tug of the leather grip of the collar around his neck.
The hunter can’t resist, rubbing the chain against the jungle man’s rock-hard pecs and abs. He holds Tarzan in place, maintaining a firm hold on the ball shackle’s chain and rubs the chain against the length of Tarzan chest. Tarzan quivers as the hunter rubs the cold steel against his impressive pecs and abs, allowing him to sense the unbreakable strength of bonds that harness his muscles and makes him powerless before his unknown captor. The hunter then takes the heavy weight he has been toying with and attaches the weight’s short chain to the bottom of the ball shackle, and releases the weight. Tarzan’s scream is muffled through the ball gag as the weight drops, pulling Tarzan’s balls downwards sharply. “All wild horses buck hard before they are tamed,” laughs the hunter, watching the confused and bewildered jungle man trying to adjust to the feel of the heaviness anchoring down his precious manhood.
Like a cowboy on a wild stallion, the hunter grabs the chain running from the collar to the top of the ball shackle and pulls upward fast and hard. Tarzan again muffle-screams through the ball gag, as his crotch thrusts forward and up instinctively as the weight and chain-leash pull in opposite directions at his shackled balls. The hunter continues to pull upwards hard on Tarzan’s ball shackle, forcing the blinded and bound Jungle Lord to heel and stand up high on his tip toes in the sand; a demonstration to Tarzan that all his muscle has been effectively harnessed, and he is beaten for the first time in his life.
“Heel, boy – that’s it, gorilla boy – up on your toes!” commands the hunter coldly. Tarzan’s muscles are pumped, trying to free his arms, horrified at having his balls bound and pulled both upwards and downwards simultaneously. Worse than fear is surging through him as his efforts to escape his unseen captor prove useless. The hunter laughs, and shows no mercy as he maintains his iron grip on Tarzan’s steel ball shackle, and tugs even harder so that Tarzan will heel to his command. Ruthless, the hunter seems to enjoy his ownership over a much more powerful being. The “rush” rather stimulates him. Tantalizing him in un-before reached ways.
The cruel hunter holds the once mighty Jungle Lord up high on his tip toes, tugging hard on the chain for a long time, letting his captive know his powerful muscles are useless and he no longer has control of them – the hunter demonstrates to Tarzan again and again that he has been beaten. After a few minutes, Tarzan stops struggling and finally heels to his unseen captor. He actually bows his head and stands squirming in pain, shifting back and forth on the ball of each foot quietly before the unseen captor, breathing ragged and heavy through the flat, wide nose-piece of the gorilla mask. The hunter smiles and continues to hold Tarzan’s ball-leash high and firmly in place, forcing Tarzan to stay up on his toes squirming for several more minutes. The hunter is surprised at how quickly the mighty Tarzan, King of the Jungle, has been subdued. Tarzan is no longer struggling – standing before the hunter quietly squirming, but clearly in submission. Taming the dumb jungle boy was easier than I ever dreamed, thinks the hunter, as he pulls the chain higher again to demonstrate his power over Tarzan once more. Tarzan moans and gingerly shifts his weight to compensate. Apparently, Tarzan is all about muscle, thinks the hunter – who is stronger? When I harnessed the jungle boy’s muscle and took away his vision, Tarzan perceived me as the strongest; and like any savage, submitted to the stronger entity! In this case, ME! The Hunter, who has made the mighty Tarzan – Lord of the Jungle – HEEL!
To be continued….