At the edge of the tarmac, Bill takes a last hungry leer at young Jake, squatting under the C-130, his buttocks clearly defined in the snug jumpsuit, inspecting the interior of a wheel well. “So, forget about Red… Red is off limits to me… Red is not for sale. Such audacity, to set boundaries for me…we’ll just see about Red,” thinks Bill.
Mr. Martin waits alone at the end of the new landing strip he has had constructed on his island of San Miguel. He watches with interest as a C-130 transport appears first as a speck on the horizon and then grows larger as it draws closer losing altitude.
The hunter sips his coffee as the door to the cockpit opens and the copilot enters. “Everything checks out on the checklist, skipper – it should be smooth fast ride to San Miguel running with the bay empty,” announces Jake.
Tarzan is transported to his new home. The hunter watches from the co-pilot’s seat of the multi engine turbo prop transport as the coast of Africa disappears and the gray waters of the Atlantic appear. “So…what’s so special about the air cargo that that you need to lease my entire plane—just to move one mysterious cubical covered tightly with a tarp?” ask the pilot.
The Hunter and Tarzan take a walk. It’s been an hour since the hunter left the river clearing, leading the captive jungle man towards the trail which will take them to the drop-point many miles away… where a companion will meet him with transportation. The hunter looks behind occasionally to watch the Tarzan’s restrained rippling muscles as he leads his “catch of the day,” by the chain attached to Tarzan’s collar and ball shackle.
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 prepare the young Jungle lord for his taming while the Jungle Stud is asleep, Tarzan gets a new hood only fit for the “Jungle King”.
The story continues with The Hunter preparing for the taming of the Jungle Lord. Several minutes later, the hunter approaches Tarzan as he lays face down with his face buried in the sandy soil. The hunter stares down at the young jungle man clad only in a loin cloth as he circles his downed prey several times. The hunter drops the sack and nudges the big jungle man in the ribs hard with his foot, trying to arouse him. “The jungle boy is out cold,” says the hunter out loud.
The Jungle Lord has made a dangerous enemy, that sent a Hunter after him.
The hunter continually scans the silent night of the deep jungle from its high trees to the river’s edge, hoping to sight the young jungle man he seeks. It is nearly 5AM and the sun will rise soon. He has been watching since sunset having arrived at his present vantage point just before sun-up the day before.
Flash had finally finished suiting up, wondering if something was wrong with his arachnid hero friend. “Where is Spidey? Usually if he sent me something like this, he’d be over to check it out in a second,” thought the Scarlet Speedster as he continued to admire himself in the new webby, body-sock suit that Spidey had made for him.
A weakened Spider-man was moving in and out of consciousness. His “suiting” at the hands of Ivan and Dmitry had left him aroused, humiliated and utterly defeated. Desperate to escape he tried to muster enough strength to fight the thugs but the latest dose of Wasp venom was too much for him.
Spidey screamed in agony as he felt the web fluid blasting from his manhole. The rawness of his anus unbearable, as the cum loads of Dmitry and Ivan mixed with his own web fluid to push lines of webbing out his of abused butthole. The force of the web flow wracked his weakened hero body with pain, yet kept him in a semi-aroused state.
Spidey lie there on the table his anal pussy still spasming after shooting that web load. The depleted hero felt like he had just taken the biggest dump of his life. His ass wet and dripping yet his rock-hard cock still lifting him up off the surgical table. He looked like a human tripod.
Spidey moaned as his cocooned body hit the floor of the truck. His boned cock was pressed to his rock-hard abs that he had just covered with a load of his young man cream. His masked face in the cocoon was making him sweaty and, it was difficult for him to breathe. Even more troublesome for the hero was that his arms had been cocoon-webbed to the front of his body so that they were pinned to his manhood.
Spidey/Peter panicked as he saw his aunt wilt to the floor. His dick rock hard, and his hand eagerly jerking, his head spun and he lost concentration. In that split second his anal muscles relaxed and his asshole lost grip of the dildo. He collapsed to the floor in a thud.
Spidey awoke from the wild sex scene on the roof top.His ass still spasming, it suddenly felt cool. A wind was blowing and the hero was trying to get his bearings.He looked around the rooftop asking himselfwhere was the Wasp? Had he left him here without finishing him off?
Spidey lay there tormented. His hot, horny hero hole now filled with two of the Wasp’s lycra-covered fingers. He felt them filling up his fairly-tight butthole, while enjoying the arousal the feeling of the fabric caused as the villain worked his Spidey hole open. Spidey groaned as he felt the Wasp’s fat digits spread apart his asshole.
Spidey looked up groggily wondering what had happened to him. His back ached and his muscles felt sore. But at the same time he was aware of the tight sheerness all over his body. The snugness of the weblon body sock was massaging and hugging every inch of his sinewy frame. The only remnant of his suit he could feel was his mask.
Peter Parker hadn’t slept well in weeks. He was constantly tormented by dreams of his last and almost total defeat by a new villain called the Wasp. Once again Pete (aka Spidey) had failed to keep his arousal in his lycra under control and he let the hot body and outline of the villain’s fat cockhead in the tights get the best of him.
