Jerry released his hold on Boy’s chin and Boy’s head fell forward, but he was no closer to being free than he was before. He could not gain the leverage to force his arms forward and it was only getting worse. Boy knew that the longer he was in the hold, the weaker he would get. The pressure on his back had made him forget all about his aching head and sore ass, which had been split by a vicious loincloth wedgie and was covered in red welts from Nick Banton’s merciless spanking.
Having let go of Boy’s chin, Jerry leaned back, taking in the amazing back muscles of the Prince of the Jungle. After another few seconds, Jerry leaned forward again and pulled Boy’s head back with one hand on his forehead. Jerry then reached around with his free hand and smacked Boy’s chest. "Nice pecs, Boy. Big, like we like ‘em, but their too solid. I like my bitches with nice soft tits. Nick, think we can do somethin’ about this?"
"Oh yeah, bro, just keep him still!" Nick balled his fists and landed two blows to Boy’s exposed right pec. Boy felt the shock go through him, but the muscle held. Nick then reached down and slapped across the pec, leaving a red mark.
"This is one tough titty! I need the heavy artillery!" With that, Nick raised his boot and WHAM! He kicked Boy’s right pec with the sole of his work boot. Boy cried out, unable to resist. The kick was like double punishment – both breaking down his rock-hard pec and pushing him further back into the camel clutch! Nick continued punishing the pec with punches, slaps and kicks until it started to sag.
Nick knelt before Boy and using two fingers, he pinched Boy’s nipple, causing Boy to grimace. Nick continued to roughly pull, tug and pinch the nipple until Boy cried out. Nick stood and slapped the damaged pec again. This time when he slapped it, he felt no resistance at all. He hooted in victory.
"You wanna take the other one?" Nick asked his brother.
Jerry smiled, "you bet!" Jerry let go of the camel clutch and Boy fell to the ground. Jerry flipped Boy over and moved his hands over his head. Boy lay on his back, unable to move. Nick sat on the ground and rolled Boy onto his right side. He seized Boy’s left wrist and left ankle and bent Boy back in a side surfboard move. Boy could not resist, as his back started to give in again to this new torture. Jerry paced back and forth, looking at Boy’s wide open left side. He raised his boot and brought it down hard. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Boy cried out some more, feeling as though his ribs would break. Jerry was even more merciless than his brother was. After kicking Boy until his left pec was crushed, he told Nick to let Boy go.
Boy tried to curl up, but Jerry kicked him onto his back. Boy lay stunned on his back, when all of a sudden, SLAM! Both Banton brothers leapt in the air and came crashing down onto Boy’s ruined chest. Boy started to moan uncontrollably – the agony was worse than anything he had ever felt in his life.
SLAP! Boy felt Nick’s hand smash across his face. Nick said, "Hey, Boy, we’ve just started, don’t start giving up yet."
Jerry reached down and lifted Boy back to his feet by his hair. As Boy started to fall, he grabbed him in a full nelson. Jerry stood on the side of the jeep, so that Boy would be completely suspended by the hold. The weakened Boy fought the full nelson, but couldn’t. break free. His arms flopped from side to side and his feet could not touch the ground. He hung limp as Jerry Banton increased the pressure. Nick sauntered in front of Boy shadow boxing, preparing for his next attack.
POW! BAM! POW! A series of punches landed square in Boy’s abs. Boy’s abs were as tough as his pecs, but the Bantons had all day. They took turns beating on the abs until finally they too were red and sagging.
Boy was delirious from pain. His back, chest and stomach ached and he could barely focus. He wanted to fight, to shut the Bantons’ mouths as they taunted him, but he could do nothing.
Nick was holding Boy up when Jerry was finishing off Boy’s abs. Despite their easy victory over the teenage jungle boy, it was hard work. The Banton boys were tiring themselves. Nick was fighting to hold up Boy, who was 180 lbs of dead weight – the muscle stud was nothing more than a slab of beef.
Nick let Boy fall down then wrenched him back up. As he did this, Jerry was throwing a huge right into Boy’s abs. Nick hoisted too far and Jerry’s fist landed square in Boy’s huge package!
"ARGH!" Boy reacted violently, thrashing and breaking Nick’s hold. Boy fell to the ground and curled into the fetal position. Nick looked at his brother in shock. After a moment, the two heels smiled. "I can’t believe we didn’t think a’ this earlier. We ain’t done nothing down there!"
Jerry reached down and shoved Boy onto his back. Boy had tears in his eyes from the pain. His young, huge pouch had never been abused before and was very sensitive. Nick stood over Boy’s head and pulled Boy’s legs back, spreading them. SMASH! SQUISH! KAPOW! Jerry went between Boy’s legs and drove his knee on the bottom of Boy’s big ball sac, sending waves of pain through the teen musclehunk. Boy felt his balls being driven up and into his body, but he could do nothing. He was like a turtle – completely helpless on his back, limbs flailing, but with no hope of defending himself.
Nick kept hold of Boy’s legs and placed one foot over his crotch area. He could see the clear outline on Boy’s cock. Nick slowly lowered his size 13 work boot, increasing the pressure on Boy’s flaccid tool. In reaction, the cock swelled up, trying to defend itself against the assault, but Nick Banton’s boot was more powerful. Boy cried out again and tears flowed freely.
Nick threw boy’s legs to the ground and he and his brother stood over him. They savored their win over Boy as much as their brother had enjoyed beating Tarzan. Neither Tarzan, nor Boy, had fallen in a fair fight, but that didn’t matter to the Bantons. All they knew was they had destroyed Boy, Prince of the Jungle. Boy’s destroyed musclestud body did not move.
For their final act of this fight and to symbolize their total conquest, Jerry and Nick slowly lowered their zippers. Each of them withdrew their own huge cocks and started to rain piss on Boy’s prone body. They coated him, even spilling some into Boy’s mouth. In reaction, Boy did nothing. He felt the hot piss on him, but all he could do was close his eyes and let himself fade away.
Lying on the jungle floor was the once-proud Prince of the Jungle, Boy. Over him, after their final humiliation of Boy, stood Nick and Jerry Banton, authors of his destruction. The Banton twins had witnessed the end result of Coy's destruction of Tarzan – the rape. They had seen what Coy had accomplished with the jungle's mightiest man, Tarzan. Both Bantons wanted to do the same to the piece of meat at their feet. The twins stood over the fallen Boy, admiring their handiwork. Their cover model bodies heaved from exertion and glowed from sweat. Jerry bent down and put his hands on his knees. "Man, that felt good. I can't wait to fuck this punk up some more!"
"Yeah, Coy had Tarzan eatin' out of the palm of his hand before he lost him. I want this one suckin' my cock when Coy and Link get back. Man, Coy'll shit himself if we could do that!"
Jerry nodded, "I want this one at OUR feet, though … not Coy's. No matter what, bro, we stick together."
"Yeah, but that's why we gotta break him fast. If Coy gets a hold of him before he's ours, we'll lose him!" Nick removed the belt from his shorts. As it slid through the loops, his large shorts dropped to the jungle floor. Nick stepped out of the shorts and moved forward. His white briefs sagged from the weight of his hard, heavy erection, which strained against the fabric.
Nick lifted Boy's head by the hair and he dropped the belt around Boy's neck, forming a leash. He then reached over and undid his brother's belt, using Jerry's belt to bind Boy's hands behind his back. Like his brother's, Jerry's shorts were too big, so without the belt, his shorts dropped to the jungle floor. Unlike his brother, Jerry always went commando, finding underwear too hot, too confining and too binding.
Jerry's huge member stood at attention. He picked up the end of the leash and said to his brother, "Can this one yell for help like Tarzan?"
"I dunno know. Let's be safe," Nick replied. He reached down and stripped off his briefs, releasing his engorged member. Nick tied a knot in the crotch area and forced the knot into Boy's open mouth. He tied the briefs behind Boy's head, completely gagging the teenage muscle stud.
The sweaty, smelly briefs were like smelling salts, filling Boy's nostrils and mouth with the disgusting odor of his captor. Boy woke with a start to find himself bound and gagged. Jerry tugged on the leash, which immediately tightened around Boy's thick neck.
Boy struggled, but the belt was like a choke collar, cutting off the air supply if pulled hard. Boy had to stop his struggle or suffocate!
Boy was dragged to his knees and knelt facing the twins. He saw their naked bodies and their erections. He could smell their piss, which had dried on his body, and it sickened him. He had no idea what they intended to do, but their big grins told him it would not be pleasant.
Nick Banton swaggered up behind Boy and pushed him down to the ground. Boy lay on his stomach. The feeling was returning to his arms, but the leather belt held firm. Boy fought against the restraints, but it was no use. Nick and Jerry smiled watching Boy's young muscles tighten and flex. It gave them great pleasure to welcome Boy to adulthood – an adulthood spent servicing them.
Nick placed his feet between Boy's legs and forced them apart. He laid his body between the legs and positioned his member above Boy's ass. "I'm going to give you your first lesson, Boy – never question your betters. Remember that and we'll get along fine." With that, Nick plunged into Boy's ass. It hurt a lot at first, but Boy was able to relax and the pain subsided. Boy was more hurt by the humiliation. The dominant male was taking what he wanted, making Boy feel like a helpless female – unable to resist the stronger animal.
Nick moved in and out of Boy's ass. The move caused Boy's own member to grow, as his crotch was rubbed back and forth in a mound of soft grass on the hard ground. Boy let out a moan – he didn't understand the effect of friction and was confused by his cock's reaction to this assault.
Nick slapped his back hard and grabbed hold of his hair. He was breathing rapidly, loving the feeling of his conquest.
Jerry knelt down and spread his legs. He lifted Boy's head from the ground and removed the gag from Boy's mouth. He moved the gag up on top of boy's nose, forcing Boy to continue smelling Nick's crotch sweat. Jerry held Boy's face up, forcing Boy to look at the rock hard cock in front of him. Jerry smiled and taunted Boy. "Ya're ours now, Boy!"
Meanwhile, Nick continued his physical assault on Boy. He reached under Boy and felt his throbbing, hard cock. He slowed his pace and withdrew, shifting position. He moved his knees under Boy. Boy's cock no longer rubbed the ground. Nick caressed it, working out more pre-cum. Boy was now positioned with his abs and pecs on the jungle floor, his ass in the air, impaled by Nick Banton and his face in the crotch of Jerry Banton.
Jerry said, "Boy, your manhood has realized that we're your master – it obeys our commands. So will you!"
Boy cried out, "No! Never!"
Nick plunged back into Boy, and moved his cock and hand in rhythm. He heard Boy's breathing speed up. Nick felt the pulse in Boy's cock speed up. He knew that Boy was close. Jerry took the signal from his brother, "Ya see, Boy! We decide when ya cum … we're your Masters!" Nick squeezed Boy's balls and stopped Boy from cumming.
"ARGH!" Boy cried out! He had never been prevented from cumming before. It was agony for him! Nick started again. Boy's beautiful body was covered in sweat. Jerry reached out and rubbed his mighty back, digging his fingers into the flesh and muscle. Boy found himself even more aroused when Nick put his hand back on his organ.
"Who controls ya, Boy? Who?" Nick pounded even harder into Boy's ass. He squeezed harder on Boy's cock, increasing the pace.
"No one!" Boy screamed, barely able to get the words out!
Jerry said, "We control ya! Ya do what we say! We'll prove it! Now cum!"
As he said it, Nick moved his finger behind Boy's scrotum and pressed. Boy didn't know what was happening – he had only experienced his own hand before! He started to erupt – harder and longer than he ever had by himself. This was far more powerful than his earlier eruptions. He cried out and his whole body vibrated. Nick came right after, spewing his huge load into Boy's ass.
Boy's body collapsed. His crotch and stomach were covered in grass, mud and cum from his orgasm. When Nick stood up, he walked across Boy's back, driving his muscled torso into the ground. "Get up, Boy!"
When Boy didn't react, Jerry grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Boy up. Boy had no choice but to follow or lose his hair. Jerry propped him again on his knees. Boy was shocked. He couldn't believe these men controlled his manhood. He felt like a boy again.
Jerry looked into his red, moist eyes and smiled. "Now you know true power Boy. It's not what you've got here." Jerry slapped Boy's power-packed biceps. "Here." Jerry slapped Boy's bulging chest. "Or even here." Jerry slapped Boy's flaccid, dirty cock. "It's what you've got up here," he said pointing to his own head.
Boy continued to sob in disbelief. He prayed for Tarzan to rescue him, but his hopes vanished when he remembered that Tarzan was dead. He was on his own. The last bit of Boy's hope left him. He looked his captors in the yes. He was theirs – he knew it and now, seeing Boy, they knew it, too.
For days, the evil young Bantons tormented their prisoner. They sexually used and abused him constantly. They taunted him and kept him from sleeping regular hours. They told him how Tarzan had submitted in the end and that Boy was no better. Days later, Boy was again on his knees before Nick and Jerry Banton, after a particularly hard and vicious fuck. They stood naked before him and asked again, "Well Boy? What do you say? Who are your Masters?"
Boy swallowed hard and acknowledged his betters. His speech had been prepared and he knew what he had to say. "In the jungle, the strongest rules. You own my body by defeating me – even my manhood obeys you. I will not fight you – I am yours to do with as you please. I swear I will be faithful to you and you alone."
The naked Bantons approached Boy. Nick and Jerry each placed one hand behind Boy's hair and bent over, pushing Boy's face to the ground. "Yer words're pretty, Boy, but we want action. Get down there, Boy. You know what we want."
Boy got the message and went down. He kissed their feet, signifying his submission. Nick commanded him to rise, "Get up on your knees Boy. Prove how much you love us."
Boy looked at them and then at their crotches. The brothers were fully erect again. Boy started licking and servicing his masters. "Oh yeah, Boy, that's it."
Boy's own cock grew to full mast as he worked his masters. His revulsion at having a sword fight in his mouth was suppressed and he relished to moans of ecstasy from the stronger and smarter men who now owned him. The Bantons came again, filling Boy's small stomach with their seed. When done, Boy fell back, exhausted.
The Banton brothers admired their slave's hard body and knew the best was yet to come. "Wait til Coy gets back … he's gonna be jealous."
"Yeah, but we'll let him use Boy … for a price. Hahahaha."
Two weeks prior to Boy's defeat, a somber procession advanced slowly through the jungle. To an outsider, it would have resembled a funeral march, only with animals. At the front, was Tantor, a huge elephant, the largest in all of Africa and leader of his herd. In his tusks, he held the fragile, naked form of his friend. The broken body in his tusks had not stirred since they began their march an hour earlier, heading to the river and a protected cove.
The man in the tusks was Tarzan, former Lord of the Jungle. Tarzan had lost his title and very nearly his life at the hands of Coy Banton, villainous hunter, trapper and thug. Tarzan was a pale version of the mighty man he had once been. Only hours ago, Coy Banton had attacked nearly every part of his body and destroyed it with amazing efficiency, but his greatest attack had come in the form of a violent, humiliating rape that had devastated Tarzan's mind and noble spirit.
Tarzan approached consciousness for a moment. He felt himself rising and falling. He could not open his eyes or move his limbs. After a few minutes, he managed to look out. He saw Tantor, his great friend. Tarzan tried to speak, but fell unconscious again. When next he awoke, Tarzan was lying on his back on the jungle floor. He felt water hitting his naked body. He heard the monkeys and felt their small hands rubbing leaves on his naked form. When he felt water enter his mouth, he swallowed instinctively. Slowly, after a few more hours, everything came back to him. He moved his throbbing arms, swung his ravaged body around and slowly stood on his mighty legs.
Tarzan stood, surrounded by his worried friends. Within seconds, he fell back down. When he next awoke, it was morning. He propped himself up. In the bright eastern sun, he was able to look his mighty body up and down. Nothing was broken and his muscles had begun to recover slowly. His legs, which escaped relatively unscathed, still looked like they had been chiseled out of granite, but the rest of him was still painfully devastated.
For seven days, the jungle took care of its hero. Tarzan was fed, bathed and protected from any who might seek to exact revenge on the once-mighty jungle king. Tarzan's body was constantly caressed and, under his experienced direction, covered in leaves and balms of the jungle, healing his wounds with miraculous efficiency.
Eventually, Tarzan felt strong again. He was probably at 70%, but that would have to be enough. Coy Banton could not be allowed to walk the jungle. Tarzan should have killed him right away, but he had promised the Commissioner on his deathbed that he would take him to the authorities. Banton was right – Tarzan's word was his bond. Tarzan stood up and started back to the mud pits. He had to start somewhere. The Bantons would have a big head start on him, but they would travel slowly, not expecting Tarzan to have survived.
Tarzan stretched his glorious body, sending blood through his muscles and pumping them back to their powerful dimensions. "OW!" He felt agony, but a good agony. It meant he was alive. The pain subsided in moments. He would need to work through a plan. He was sore, outnumbered, weaker than his opponents, naked and weaponless. Not a good beginning, but using stealth, perhaps he could surprise one of them, steal his clothes and weapons. As for the strength, Tarzan would have to hope his adrenaline would carry him through.
Another problem came to mind. Tarzan fought against the memory, but it was true. Banton had broken him, not just physically, but mentally. Tarzan knew that, despite what he tried to believe, he had actually given in to Banton at the end. He had actually agreed to the last rapes. Tarzan remembered the exchange:
Banton looked him in the eyes, penetrating deep into his soul. He opened his lips slowly and licked them. Tarzan's body bucked forward, trying to reach those rough lips. Banton laughed with a deep throaty chuckle, "Oh Tarzan … it's too late for that. Are ya ready for another round?"
"… Yes …" Tarzan meekly replied, completely lost in his conqueror's power.
If confronted with Banton again, could he count on his rational mind to overcome his base instincts to serve his Master? Even a moment's hesitation when hearing Banton's rich, powerful voice could be deadly.
Tarzan began the slow trek through the jungle. The animals had only carried him a couple of hours away. He was at the site of his humiliation quickly. In his search, he found Coy's discarded briefs. They were dirty and stretched too large, but they were better than nothing. Tarzan broke off the dried mud, washed them in the river and slipped them on. He tied knots in the side until they clung tightly. He looked down at himself. The briefs were tight enough to hold him in place. At the back, he could feel them wedged up his ruptured ass crack, splitting his perfect round glutes and causing pain as he moved.
Tarzan felt tremendous shame. Somewhere, Coy Banton, the most ruthless, evil man in the jungle was walking around in his loincloth, a symbol of his power and of his conquest, and using his knife, the last item he had from his lost parents. Meanwhile, he, Tarzan, so-called Lord of the Jungle, was here, wearing old discarded underwear of his archenemy. Banton was right when he had said Tarzan was not the king anymore. Until they met again and Tarzan could be victorious, Coy Banton was the rightful Lord of the Jungle and he was merely a pretender. The role reversal was humiliating, but also motivating. Tarzan steeled himself and began tracking the Banton boys.