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Tarzan’s Battle

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Tarzan tied by La...
Tarzan was failing.

He surrendered to La’s torture in the hope that she’d slip and divulge the source of the biological weapons that she now possessed. But instead, La fought off an attempt to take those weapons from the Commander and his men and was now demanding information from the Jungle King. Worse yet, she was stretching him on the rack.

La looked at her prisoner with disdain, lust, admiration, and even some pity. She knew why he was there, but she wanted him to admit it. So far, he hadn’t. Once he did, then she’d make an example of him, and in doing so reclaim all she had lost. Power. But in the meantime, she wanted to enjoy all of his suffering.

Tarzan knew he was in for a struggle now. The stakes were enormous—La somehow had biological weapons, and apparently a source to get even more. He’d hoped that she would be forthcoming by now, and reveal important information to him—and he’d gambled everything on that hope. But now he was the prisoner of a very determined, serious opponent. He was helpless in her torture chamber, naked and completely at her mercy.

His pride was also now a factor. In his suffering he’d told her that he would not show her his cum, even though his aching shaft and sac desperately needed release. Now that La knew that was important to him, however, they both knew that she would be merciless in torturing him to the sexual brink—as well as using the rack to pull his limbs from his torso in the most painful, most cruel way possible. In short, the torture was making Tarzan more careless than he otherwise would be, and La always took advantage of every opening.

“Precum,” La smiled as she observed a trickle rolling down Tarzan’s hard, thick, veiny shaft. “Suffer, prisoner. Know that I am watching your humiliation. I am leaving you now for a few moments. Your muscles will continue to cramp, and your body continue to dehydrate as you sweat. Think about that while I am gone. When I return, I expect you’ll be ready to tell me everything.”

With that, she left....

To be continued....
never! this is produced in the prostata.
Ok—blood?
 
When La returned, she saw Tarzan in even more discomfort, as she expected. He was doing his best to battle the rack, but the rack was clearly winning—not because of how violently he was being stretched, but because of the amount of time he’d been subjected to this torture. Simply put, he was wearing out, and was becoming concerned for his ability to defend himself even if he did escape.

“Cock still aching?” La said as she gave his sweaty cock a few soft strokes. Tarzan groaned in response, and La smiled.

“My prisoner, when I was gone just now I was preparing the most cruel next phase of your torture that I could devise. I will not kill you on this rack. I won’t even cripple you. In fact, I will stretch you no further. Instead, I will take you to another room where you will be crucified, and I will wait for you to tell me why you are here. Of course, shortly after you are tied to the cross, you will lose the ability to take in enough air to speak—so perhaps you should start talking now.” With that, she began to gradually ease the tension on the rack.

Soon, she untied Tarzan’s ankles. He did not move his legs. She rubbed his abs and pecs, still covered in sweat. “It is time to talk,” she instructed him.

To be continued....
 
She slowly untied his wrists, staring at the body she badly wanted in her bed. For his part, Tarzan was understanding that perhaps his gamble to find out her plans had failed, as he seriously questioned the stamina that he had left. He took her at her word that he was going to be taken for crucifixion.

She rolled him on his side, and then on his stomach. Sitting on his hamstrings, she reached for his wrists and securely tied them behind his back. Tarzan was offering no resistance. Why?, she wondered. Was he that exhausted?

Standing again, she rolled him onto his back. “Stand,” she ordered. “We are leaving this room.”

Tarzan looked at her for a moment, and then slowly moved to stand.

“Go out the door, and turn right. Four doors down on the left. The door is open.”
Tarzan slowly walked in that direction. La followed him. When he got to the room, he paused as he saw a cross resting partly on the floor at about a 45 degree angle. The top of the cross was connected to a pulley.

“If you resist, Tarzan, your fate will be far less merciful, I assure you. I want to know why you are here. If you will not tell me, you will be secured to the cross, and suffer there—my naked prisoner. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“Good. Now walk to the cross, and turn your back to me. I will untie you, and order you to lay on the cross with your arms outstretched. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He did as instructed, looking for an escape, but finding none. He felt her reaching for the ropes that bound his wrists, and then untying them.

To be continued….
 
She slowly untied his wrists, staring at the body she badly wanted in her bed. For his part, Tarzan was understanding that perhaps his gamble to find out her plans had failed, as he seriously questioned the stamina that he had left. He took her at her word that he was going to be taken for crucifixion.

She rolled him on his side, and then on his stomach. Sitting on his hamstrings, she reached for his wrists and securely tied them behind his back. Tarzan was offering no resistance. Why?, she wondered. Was he that exhausted?

Standing again, she rolled him onto his back. “Stand,” she ordered. “We are leaving this room.”

Tarzan looked at her for a moment, and then slowly moved to stand.

“Go out the door, and turn right. Four doors down on the left. The door is open.”
Tarzan slowly walked in that direction. La followed him. When he got to the room, he paused as he saw a cross resting partly on the floor at about a 45 degree angle. The top of the cross was connected to a pulley.

“If you resist, Tarzan, your fate will be far less merciful, I assure you. I want to know why you are here. If you will not tell me, you will be secured to the cross, and suffer there—my naked prisoner. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“Good. Now walk to the cross, and turn your back to me. I will untie you, and order you to lay on the cross with your arms outstretched. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He did as instructed, looking for an escape, but finding none. He felt her reaching for the ropes that bound his wrists, and then untying them.

To be continued….

Tarzan turned and faced La. “You have no weapon. Your Derringer is empty. I have what I came here for.”

“What?”

“Answers. You have biological weapons. I don’t know if you want to use them or sell them, or both, but I know now that you have them.”

“You’re going to suffer on the cross long before you can tell anyone,” La replied.

“No I won’t,” Tarzan replied. “I’m leaving, and taking you to the authorities. You’re out of time.”

La pulled a dagger. “I’ll cut you to ribbons if you don’t do as I say.” Tarzan stopped and raised his hands to shoulder level. “Lay on the cross, prisoner. I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer on the cross. But I think I’ll secure you with rope instead of nails so that you last a little longer.”

Slowly, Tarzan did as instructed. La wrapped his right wrist in rope around the crossbeam and then moved halfway up his forearm before tying the rope. She repeated with his left wrist. Before working on his ankles, she poured oil on his torso and groin. “Let’s get that cock of yours fully aroused again.” She happily played with his engorged cock for several minutes until precum reappeared.

Smiling, she reached for more rope…..
 
Tarzan turned and faced La. “You have no weapon. Your Derringer is empty. I have what I came here for.”

“What?”

“Answers. You have biological weapons. I don’t know if you want to use them or sell them, or both, but I know now that you have them.”

“You’re going to suffer on the cross long before you can tell anyone,” La replied.

“No I won’t,” Tarzan replied. “I’m leaving, and taking you to the authorities. You’re out of time.”

La pulled a dagger. “I’ll cut you to ribbons if you don’t do as I say.” Tarzan stopped and raised his hands to shoulder level. “Lay on the cross, prisoner. I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer on the cross. But I think I’ll secure you with rope instead of nails so that you last a little longer.”

Slowly, Tarzan did as instructed. La wrapped his right wrist in rope around the crossbeam and then moved halfway up his forearm before tying the rope. She repeated with his left wrist. Before working on his ankles, she poured oil on his torso and groin. “Let’s get that cock of yours fully aroused again.” She happily played with his engorged cock for several minutes until precum reappeared.

Smiling, she reached for more rope…..

Tarzan’s strongest, healthiest muscles left were in his legs. He knew he had, maybe, one opportunity left to alter the course of events before being crucified. He also knew that La had gotten careless, taking her eye off of Tarzan to grab some additional rope.

That was the opportunity that Tarzan needed.

With a grunt, he threw his left leg toward La’s head. His torso twisted as far as his bound arms would allow, and it was his shin bone that contacted La’s forehead just as she turned back to bind Tarzan’s ankles to the base of the cross. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and she fell backward—very unconscious.

With that part of the equation solved, at least for the moment, now Tarzan had an equally pressing challenge: freeing his arms. If La recovered, and Tarzan was still secured to the cross, his problems would explode in number and intensity. Tarzan looked around the room frantically for something to aid his effort, but saw nothing.

To be continued….
 
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