Tarzan And The Last Stand

[Bergie14]

Tarzan' s eyes opened when a soft rustling below his tree house woke him. It was stiflingly hot. He crouched, listening carefully.

Tarzan was not a young man anymore. Though to all outward appearances he was in incredible shape, he'd felt himself slowing down in little ways. But, he'd made no concessions to time: his tiny loincloth was still his only covering, and his father his only weapon.

But he clearly has a problem right now. His experienced ears told him that there were multiple individuals quietly, but not silently, rising up the trees around his tree house. He counted at least ten. Who were they? What did they want?

The only way to find out these answers, he quickly decided, would be to wait. He moved to a chair and sat down. Seconds after he did, guests arrived.

Two of them entered his tree house. One spoke: "Hello Tarzan. I'm here to ask for your help."

Tarzan looked at him carefully. "I'm listening."

To be continued.....

 

[Bergie14]

"My name is Dr. Wesley Martin. Over the past five years, I've been developing a serum to do something that I think you'd be very interested in. The serum is a very potent and very fast-acting combination of substances that greatly reduces recovery time from physical activity. My preliminary tests show that it even restores muscle and heals wounds."

Tarzan nodded. "How can I help you?"

Dr. Martin smiled. "I've tested this on everyone I could, including myself. But no one exerts themself like you do. I want to create a controlled environment where you exert lots of energy, and then give you the serum. If it works, that will prove it.

Will you do it?"

Tarzan, thinking of the passage of time, said "Yes. What do I do?"

Dr. Martin smiled.

 

[Bergie14]

Dr. Martin's labs were not far away. While Tarzan had concerns about the number of people who came to invite him-- he counted twelve--he was very motivated to find out if this serum worked. He thought that it might effectively take years of his life.

Once everyone was out of the heat, Tarzan was given a tour of the labs by Dr. Martin himself. The labs were very impressive, with many workers and researchers.

"Well, Tarzan, we've reached the end of the tour except for our areas to create exertion for our trial subjects. Are you ready to begin?"

Tarzan nodded, "Yes, very much so."

"Excellent," and he opened a door for them to walk inside.

Once Tarzan had adjusted his eyes to darker lighting, he stopped walking.

"I know what you're thinking," Dr. Martin interjected. "But we had to make a dungeon if we were going to test the serum on the patients on people most likely to benefit from it--like you. You don't face greater exertion than this. If the serum can overcome the kind of damage done to you in a place like this, it is ready for use."

As Tarzan looked around, he saw a dungeon modeled out of the inquisition, with some 20th century upgrades. Now he had to decide if he still wanted to take part.

"Do you want a tour of our dungeon?"

"That won't be necessary, " the Jungle King replied. Just then, four burly men walked into the dungeon. Each of them had a holstered pistol on their hip.

"My bodyguards," Dr. Martin told Tarzan. "Well, we should get started. Please hand me your knife and sheath. I'll put it on this table to get back when we're done.

Tarzan looked at the "bodyguards" but then nodded and did as he was told.

"Ok, we're obviously going to torture you as realistically as possible. We've gone to great lengths to create a genuine experience. You would be stripped of you experienced this in the "real world". So, even though your loincloth hides so little, please hand it to me and we will begin."

To be continued....

 

[Bergie14]

"So Tarzan, just hand me your loincloth and we'll get started," Dr. Martin said. He extended his hand to take it.

Tarzan's loincloth was so small that his hosts noticed his cock stiffening at this request. He felt uneasy about the whole situation, but he remained eager to test the serum that the Doctor had promised.
Tarzan untied his loincloth and let it drop to the floor. The bodyguards grabbed his wrists and tied them behind his back. His cock hardened.

"Ok," Dr. Martin said. "Chain his wrists overhead." Tarzan was led about fifteen feet away. His wrists were cuffed to chains that hung from the ceiling. Dr. Martin walked in front of Tarzan, looking him over. "40 lashes." He walked away.

The whip whistled through the air before landing on Tarzan's back. Tarzan stared straight ahead, not reacting, to the first 17 lashes. After that, he grunted quietly, and then more loudly, until the fortieth landed. The skin of his back was red, even with the constant tan that Tarzan sported.

"The strappado is next," Dr. Martin announced to no one in particular. Quickly, Tarzan was released from his chains and moved for his second round of torture.

To be continued...

 

[JimOregon]

Good story. Now waiting for the continuation.

 

[Bergie14]

Tarzan's hands were bound together behind his back by rope that connected to a pulley way up near the ceiling. Even in his nakedness, Tarzan commanded the respect of all in the room. He stood proudly as Dr. Martin spoke.

"I don't know if you've ever been introduced to the strappado, but I think you'll find it challenging. As I pull on this rope, your body will be forced to bend at the waist while your wrists are raised behind your back. Your toes will extend to the floor eventually, and after that you'll just be suspended. Painfully. Let's get started."

Presently, he pulled on the rope, and Tarzan's wrists moved toward the ceiling. He bent at the waist, and quietly grunted as his toes, indeed, barely touched the floor. Soon after that, he was off the floor entirely.

"Ahh," Tarzan quietly grunted. His shoulder and back muscles were serving him well, but it still didn't feel good. He was about four feet off of the floor. Then he was raised another five feet up, and left to hang there for several minutes.

Finally, Dr. Martin said, "Ok Tarzan, let's bring you down." He quickly lowered Tarzan two feet and then held the rope, jerking his body and putting additional force on his shoulder joints.

"Uhhhh," Tarzan groaned.

Then, two feet later, it happened again. Tarzan's muscles, which had served him so well, we're now stretching and pulling.
Then Dr. Martin did it again. Tarzan just vocalized a guttural, nonverbal response. Dr. Martin smiled, feeling that he was making progress. Then he lowered Tarzan to the floor, and they untied him.

Tarzan did not immediately stand.

Dr. Martin said, "Ok, next phase. Bring him over here."

 

[Bergie14]

Dr. Martin was standing by what looked like a well-used, and very real, rack. The bodyguards grabbed Tarzan's arms. He didn't resist, until he saw where they were heading. He tried to plant his feet in the floor, but to no avail, because when his name was called and he looked up, he saw two bodyguards with pistols trained on his face. Tarzan froze.

"Tarzan," Dr. Martin cautioned. "Our relationship has been very professional to this point, but make no mistake. You must be strenuously tortured to truly test the serum. And we are so close to that point, your resistance now cannot be tolerated."

Tarzan, his arms still restrained by two men, responded: "The rack is not necessary. You've gone too far."

"Perhaps," he smiled, "but I am the scientist here. And, I have the guns, and you, heh heh, are completely unarmed," he said as he carefully reviewed Tarzan's naked body--including the Jungle King' s erect cock. "Now my men are going to let you go, and you are going to walk to the rack, and lay spread eagled. Then, you will endurr the suffering that--as you know too well--only the rack can bring."

To his bodyguards, Dr. Martin ordered, "now let him go to the rack."

 

[Bergie14]

"Tarzan," Dr. Martin reiterated, "I need you to go to the rack so that we can tie you down." Slowly, his eyes never leaving the Dr. Martin's, the naked jungle king strode to the rack. All eyes in the room, and a couple of guns, were trained on him.

He climbed the two steps to get on the platform that held the rack. In an effort to make a point of how he viewed himself in this situation, he held his hands at about shoulder level to keep them very visible. His cock, as it had been since he stripped, remained proudly erect.

Tarzan laid down in the appropriate spot on the rack. Indeed, he knew the rack well, having been tortured on it several times before. His ankles were quickly locked in shackles extending from the roller that would be turned to stretch him. His wrists were likewise shackled to chains that led to well secured spikes that were driven into the rack platform itself. He tested the shackles, but there was no give. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Very good," Dr. Martin praised. "This is a critically important part of our work. Your naked body must be made to suffer, and I promise you, it will." Tarzan frowned, but remained quiet. He'd said all he had to say.

His bodyguards had holstered their guns, but remained attentive to Tarzan's body. They seemed unconvinced that he was truly helpless on the rack. Even unarmed, stripped, and chained, Tarzan's reputation continued to intimidate.

Dr. Martin issued an order to his bodyguards: "Stretch him." With that, the roller turned, the chains clattered, and the jungle king began to stretch.

 

[Bergie14]

"I don't know this from experience, of course, but Tarzan it seems to me that struggling only tired you out faster. You are chained to a rack. You aren't going anywhere," Dr. Martin smiled.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Tarzan questioned.

"Well, yes, actually, I am. I like looking at your very helpless, very naked body, and thinking of how I can hurt you more so we can have a good test for my serum. Stretch him more." The roller was turned, ever so slightly, and now Tarzan was stretched tightly. Pain wasn't with him yet, but with the next turn, his body would definitely feel the strain. "And wouldn't it be a shame to ignore your hard cock? Those balls of yours need attention also, don't you think?" He nodded at a bodyguard, and body oil was poured on the jungle king' s torso and thighs. Quickly his defenseless groin was receiving the oil, and plenty of merciless teasing. The effect, of course, was that Tarzan's cock grew in length and hardness. His balls also swelled with more of his cum. He could still struggle a little, but it was no use.

"Is this important for the serum also, Doctor?," Tarzan gasped.

"No, this is just because of your resistance earlier. I thought a little humiliation on your part was in order. Don't you agree?"
As Tarzan's cock was stroked and pinched, he bit his lip. When they also cupped his balls, he groaned for the first time--in spite of fighting the urge to do so. In addition, his inner thighs were targeted, and his nipples were gently pinched.

"Ass plug," was the order from Dr. Martin. Tarzan was clearly distracted, but thought he heard that correctly. More oil was produced, this time to lubricate the plug.

"Tarzan, we're going to put an ass plug in you now. Please cooperate." As the work on his groin continued, Tarzan began to feel a strong need to cut. He then felt a foreign object, albeit a soft one, attempting to enter his ass. Hoping that it would distract himself from feeling the need to cut for the amusement of people that he increasingly thought of as captors, he allowed it to be put inside him.

It didn't work.

The plug, and the proximity to his prostate, made resisting his need even more difficult. He groaned again.

"Tarzan, thank you for sharing you precum with us. Very nice. Would you like us to help you cum? If you ask nicely, perhaps we will. We'd love to watch you squirt your load on yourself."

 

[Bergie14]

"Stretch him," the Doctor commanded, as his need to cause pain to Tarzan had overcome his interest in sexual torments. He was thoroughly enjoying Tarzan's discomfort. Tarzan's naked body was covered in sweat.

"How do you feel now, Jungle King? Do you have anything to tell me?"

Tarzan had been slow to come around to the notion that the "Doctor" was quite out of his mind, but now there was no doubt. As he suffered on the rack for the entertainment of his captor, he silently cursed himself for handing over his knife and then stripping for this madman.

"What would you like to know?" Tarzan grunted as he dealt with the fire in his joints.

"Well, I'd like to know, as long as you're just laying around, if you mind us taking a sample of your cum for our research? Your cock is so hard perhaps we could take care of the sample right now."

"What if I refuse?" he gasped.

"Oh I'm sorry, that question is in itself a refusal. We'll have to take the sample our way. Gentlemen...." A fleshlight was produced, and oil was poured all over it. Then Tarzan's cock got another coating of oil.

"Uhhh," Tarzan protested as it was slid onto his hard shaft.

"Not too fast, gentlemen," the Doctor cautioned as two men began to slide the object along the Jungle King' s aching rod. "Don't forget to play with his balls. Now work that ass plug."

"You are being humiliated, my good friend. You are going to show us your cum, and we are going to enjoy it. There is nothing you can do to stop it from happening. All you can hope for is that we won't torment you too much longer, so you can finally have the relief that you crave."

"You're insane."

"Perhaps. But you're the one who is pre cumming against his will for the enjoyment of his captor. Yes, I am your captor. By now you must have realized that you aren't going anywhere."

One of his bodyguards spoke. "He can't hold on much longer, Doctor."

"Take off the fleshlight, then," he commanded. "Use your hands. Let's see if we can make Tarzan beg."

 

[Bergie14]

Precum drained out of the tip of Tarzan's painfully hard cock. Dr. Martin smiled at his captive's predicament. "Stretch him more," he ordered. "Take away his ability to escape."

"AHHH," Tarzan groaned as his body stretched further.

"You're doing very well, Tarzan. Please continue to suffer. Do you have any requests for how we should torture you next?" He nodded to his bodyguards to continue Tarzan's sexual torment. "Oh, I almost forgot...would you like to cum for my entertainment? All you have to do is beg, and we will provide you with the release that you're craving."

"Uhhh...go...to...hell," Tarzan gasped.

 

[Bergie14]

"Don't give him any satisfaction," he ordered. "Ruin his orgasm." Unable to take any more, Tarzan's cum oozed out of his rock-hard shaft. As it did, it was squeezed hard by two of the bodyguards. All that emerged were more unsatisfying dribbles, and a low groan from the captive's throat. He suddenly jerked against the ropes which held him to the rack, but to no avail.

"You didn't think we'd let you really cum, did you? Well, now you know. I think it's time for more interesting activities. Men, bring him outside."

 

[Bergie14]

They quickly untied him from the rack. Tarzan rolled onto his right side, trying to get blood flowing back to his extremities. His captors admired his naked form, especially since it was offering no resistance. His eyes scanned the room for his knife, or even his loincloth. He found them both, but not the fight to go get them.

Presently, he was grabbed under his arms by two of the bodyguards. The Doctor led the procession toward the door, and then up the stairs. The sunshine was bright, and they all paused to acclimate their vision.

"I expect you to lay on that cross over there. You will be secured to it," the Doctor informed him. Tarzan looked at each of them as he was allowed to stand. The cross was only a few steps away. His options seemed clear--submit to the crucifixion, or make a run for it. He may not get another chance at freedom.