Tarzan and the Jungle Upheaval Vol. III Bloodied Hell

DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of fiction. All the characters depicted in the story belong to and are copyrighted by the estate of Edgar Rice Burroughs or their respective owners. I do not own anything.


Chapter 1

Tarzan trekked laboriously to his destroyed tree house near the middle of the jungle. The experiments and torture of Dr. Johnson and his guards took its tremendous toll to his body: he had a high fever, cramps still knotted his stomach, his liver felt like it was being grated, many muscle fibers burned with pain and minor tremors still erupted during some parts of the day. His gait was uneven due to the swollen joints brought about by the stretching and rubber mallet torture. The jungle hero took frequent breaks and rests to renew the energy of his exhausted frame and revitalized his damage form, thus, making the usual day's journey into a week-long one. The animals had been very helpful, bringing him food to eat and alerting him of the lurking dangers. Twice he barely eluded Blood Tribe assassins still searching for him.

Finally, the jungle hero reached his former tree house. The area was denser with vegetation from what it was when he had last been there, more than eight months ago on the fateful day when he was attacked by the Treasure Raiders. New plants had thrived on the trunk of the chopped tree that once cradled Tarzan's famous tree house. For the past months, this destroyed sanctuary has been the symbol of Tarzan's defeat and the chaos that ensued throughout the jungle. It's going to change now, this is where the jungle order will be re-established thought Tarzan fiercely, determined to restore tranquility in the jungle. Despite of his suffering and with the help of his animal friends, the jungle champion proceeded in making a temporary and hidden shelter for the arrival of the tribe chiefs.


Half a week later, the chiefs from the Impala, Falcon, Boar, Lion and Hyena tribes along with one or two of their trusted warriors arrived stealthily in the area. Most of them were excited to see the jungle champion in the flesh. They were all hoping for their hero to rally them and restore peace throughout the jungle. They were not disappointed as Tarzan welcomed them and invited them inside a make-shift shelter, hidden in the thick vegetation.

Arend, chief of the Impala tribe was the first to address the assembly. 'We as tribe chiefs and Tarzan have gathered here to discuss how best to defeat the overwhelming Blood Tribe. We have pledged 100 skilled warriors from each tribe for this purpose.' The other chiefs nodded and acknowledged Arend's statement. 'With our combined efforts we have dispersed the Blood Tribe in the past and we are thankful for your crucial aid, Tarzan.' continued the Impala tribe's chief. In his next sentence he addressed the jungle hero. 'Tarzan, in the last weeks we, the five chiefs have corresponded with each other and agreed that we will employ the strategy we used to defeat the Blood Tribe, two years ago.'

Tarzan nodded and understood the implication of the statement. Two years ago during the last rampage of the Blood Tribe, the warriors from the Impala, Falcon, Boar, Lion and Hyena tribes have joined forces to face the almost invincible Blood Tribe. The alliance strategy had been a simple one, assassinate the Blood Tribe chief. 

Fearsome as the Blood Tribe warriors were, their social organization have been their weakness. The Blood Tribe has valued their leader immensely, their chief was their compass and only their chief can lead the Blood Tribe to their direction. Without such a person to control them with an iron-grip, the different factions of the Blood Tribe would be unorganized and inefficient. With so much emphasis on the role of the chief, the Blood Tribe only allows most ruthless, strongest and best warriors for the position. And with this person lies the major hurdle of the alliance's tactic, very few people can rival the chief of the Blood Tribes. Fortunately for the alliance, Tarzan took the responsibility. Stealthily, the jungle champion was able to enter the Blood Tribe chief's hut and their battle was one of the most arduous to be won by Tarzan. Upon winning, Tarzan gave the signal to the waiting alliance warriors and the latter launched their assault. With their leader dead, the Blood Tribe was in disarray and the alliance was able to defeat them. Some Blood Tribe warriors had been killed in the battle but many had managed to survive and evade capture.

'I will once again take the responsibility for the assassination of the Blood Tribe chief.' uttered Tarzan

'With all due respect, won't the Blood Tribe learn from this strategy?' interjected Slang, the companion of the Hyena Tribe chief. 'Tarzan, you don't have to bear this burden alone.  You have been through a lot in the past weeks. We could form a three-man team to assist you.'

'The strategy will still work, our scouts monitoring the Blood Tribe has told us as much. The Blood Tribe traditions have not changed, their chief still resides alone in his hut. Around it may be the problem, since the elite Black Blood faction guards the perimeter. But I believe in Tarzan's legendary abilities to slip to the chief's hut undetected.' countered Asvoel, chief of the Falcon Tribe.

'As for the three-man team to assist Tarzan in the assassination, I must reject the idea. Stealth is crucial on the matter and additional people on the job will compromise the operation. We can however form a back-up team of five warriors to help Tarzan after the assassination or in case it fails.' said Arend grimly. 'Also, this team will give the signal to start the assault in case Tarzan had been successful.'

The other chiefs agreed to this proposal and selected one warrior from each tribe to serve as a back-up team for Tarzan. Among them was Tier from the Impala Tribe and Slang from the Hyena Tribe. With the strategy finalized, the group dispersed. They have agreed to meet and face the Blood Tribe in war in four days.

Chapter 2

Four days had passed and 500 warriors had been gathered by the Impala, Falcon, Boar, Lion and Hyena Tribes to combat the threat of the Blood Tribe. Their strategy had been finalized: Tarzan will stealthily accomplish the assassination of the chief in his hut located in the middle of the camp, one mile from the the chief's hut the five-member back-up team will spread out to better monitor the jungle hero's mission, after another one mile the 500 warrior, in semi-circle formation will spread out and hide to avoid detection from the Blood Tribe scouts, they will wait for a signal from the back-up team for the time to attack.

Tarzan accompanied by Slang, Tier and three other warriors set-out carefully towards the Blood Tribe camp. With Tarzan's expert covertness, he guided the group. They were able to evade the patrolling Blood Tribe sentries until finally the reached the required distance. At nightfall, Tarzan gestured the warriors to disperse and to monitor on the different spots. The five warriors obeyed and spread out clandestinely.

The jungle champion for his part, proceeded deeper into the camp of the Blood Tribe. He crawled, hid behind tree trunks, and moved in the most silent way he could. The most difficult part in the secret operation is to penetrate the one hundred meter radius where the Black Blood faction patrolled. Thrice the jungle hero was almost discovered, fortunately, he was able kept his presence hidden. Upon reaching the hut, Tarzan heaved a sigh of relief that he had been able to come so far. Tarzan entered through the open window of the hut. He kept his alert level on high, anticipating to have a tough fight ahead of him.

Tarzan entered the hut armed with his trusty knife, to his surprise, the chief was sound asleep in his cot. Tarzan approached quietly and positioned his hand ready to deal the deadly blow to his slumbering target. The knife swished, propelled by the jungle lord's strength and landed squarely where heart should be. Alas, the chief's body was made of hay and coconut husk! For a moment, the jungle man was disoriented but he quickly regained his composure. It was a trick cot, the chief's body would be beneath the hay and husks. Tarzan quickly withdrew his blade and decided to slit the chief throat instead. The minor commotion woke the chief just in time to parry the jungle lord's blow.

The two warriors tested their strength: Tarzan pushed his blade towards the chief's throat but the chief pushed back his survival instincts kicking in. The chief, Krag, knowing that he was in the disadvantage, withdrew and rolled to the side of the cot. Krag used the opportunity to activate the alarm that was heard only by the Black Blood faction surrounding the hut. Tarzan noticed what Krag had done, he lunged towards the chief eager to slay the latter while the guards have not yet arrived. the jungle lord and the Blood Tribe chief rolled on the floor, using all of their skills in wrestling to gain the upperhand. Krag was able to knock Tarzan's knife spinning to the wall of the hut but Tarzan was able able to lock the chief in standing rear naked choke hold. Krag gagged and wheezed from the lack of air, his eyes bulged from the pressure of the jungle hero's muscular arms.

Krag was relieved to see the shadows of the Black Blood group. From the hut's doors and windows the Black Blood faction entered ready to confront the intruder. The nine warriors surrounded the jungle champion and his hostage. Tarzan kept his choke hold on Krag. He tried to buy more time as he blocked the advances of the enclosing opponents with their chief body. Five more minutes for the brain damages to be irreversible, thought the jungle lord as he felt Krag's body went rigid. 

Suddenly, Volgende the leader of the group threw Tarzan's knife that he picked up from the corner of the hut straight into Krag's chest and ruptured the chief's heart. Krag's chest cavity burst with blood killing him instantly. The move surprised the jungle lord, there had never been a case of treachery within the Blood Tribe before and yet Volgende ruthlessly betrayed and murdered their leader.

'You have no hostage now, Tarzan, no leverage to keep us at bay. What will you do now?' taunted the Volgende at the cornered ape man. 

Tarzan contemplated on pulling the knife from Krag's chest but decided against it after seeing that it was firmly stuck in the chest cavity of the deceased chief. As an alternative plan, the jungle lord lifted Krag's lifeless body and threw it directly to the two guards at his side to create an opening. The move toppled the two guards and Tarzan dashed quickly to the gap produced. However, Volgende's superb reflexes was able to keep up with the jungle hero's sudden spurt of speed. The Blood Tribe warrior charged like a rhinoceros and tackled Tarzan on his side, knocking the wind out from his lungs. The two warriors crashed to the ground with Volgende having the upper hand as had Tarzan in a school boy pin and had unleashed a couple of jabs to the jungle champion's face. The jungle champion curled his body until his legs caught the Blood warrior around the neck. With all his might, Tarzan pulled Volgende to the ground and locked the latter's neck with his legs restricting air and blood supply. Unfortunately, the jungle lord had to relinquished the hold much sooner to avoid the crashing heels of three Blood warriors. Tarzan rolled backwards and stood up, he was back in his original position before throwing Krag's body to his attackers. Volgende coughed with blood but stood up as well in front of Tarzan, his face filled with rage.

Three warriors attacked simultaneously in each of Tarzan's sides and from his back. In a split second, launched his knee to one on his right. It connected solidly to the warrior's knocking the man unconscious. The jungle champion used the fallen warrior's body, swiped the other two attackers and sent them crashing to the hut's wall. Agt, the burliest warrior of the Black Blood faction, wrapped his arms around Tarzan's chest from behind lifting the latter and pinning his arms to his sides. Tarzan flexed his muscles and tried to escape the bearhug but almost immediately two pairs of fists landed on his midsection as Negende and Tiende started their assault. 

The jungle hero abandoned his attempt to free himself from Agt's clutches and focused first on his gut pounders. He released a kick from both legs and targeted the noses of Negende and Tiende. The two warrior evaded the kicks and used the opportunity to grab Tarzan's ankles. Negende locked the jungle champion's ankle in his left armpit while Tiende did the same in his right armpit and made Tarzan looked like he was sitting in a right angle on the air. The two continued their assault on Tarzan's midsection while Agt tightened his squeeze. The jungle champion contracted his muscles to protect his body and wriggled desperately trying to create and opening to escape the hold.

'Out of the way!' shouted Volgende as he charged to the scene with both of his hands open and pointed like a spear. With great force, Volgende's spear-like hands landed on each of Tarzan's side just below the last rib. They penetrated the compact abdomen on the jungle lord much like a pointed spear can although no laceration had resulted due to the toughness of Tarzan's skin. Nevertheless, the blow put Tarzan in a mild shock, his eyes bulged from its socket and his open mouth expelled a gasping sound. Volgende smiled sinisterly as he delivered alternate backhanded slaps the the dazed jungle hero. When he saw Tarzan starting to regain his wits, he signaled to Agt.

Agt howled a menacing growl as he lifted Tarzan high above his body, it was a gorilla press! Grabbing Tarzan's neck and ankles tightly, he slammed the jungle lord's body downward into a knee gut buster. The jungle champion's relaxed abdominal muscles hardly offered any resistance to the Agt's steel-like knee as the move rearranged the former's internal organs. Agt was merciless, he continued his downward force until his knees felt Tarzan's spine! Satisfied with his show of strength, Agt tossed Tarzan to his Black Blood comrades, all of the have recovered from the jungle hero's earlier attacks.

Tarzan landed near the two warriors whom he swiped with their colleague's body, Sewende and Sesde. 'Get up, Tarzan!' said Sesde pulling the jungle hero into a standing position by the hair. The Blood warrior unleashed a series of rapid light jabs into Tarzan's midsection, lifting the jungle champion's feet from the ground. When the right height was achieved Sevende struck with his elbow at Tarzan's back in the kidney area sending the jungle man back to the ground. They iterated this a couple of times more and then they threw the weakened jungle hero to their waiting comrades. The Black Blood warriors toyed Tarzan mockingly and manhandling him and tossing him to each other.

Finally, the sound of footsteps alerted the group. The real chief has arrived. The Black Blood warriors assembled in a formation inside the hut, with Volgende and Derde clutching the dazed Tarzan by the armpits. When the chief entered all of the warriors bowed and Volgende and Derde forced Tarzan to kneel and bow down in front of their leader making the jungle hero to see only the chief's feet. Tarzan's eyes widened as he heard the chief spoke.

Chapter 3

'Good evening, Tarzan! I see that you have been welcomed hospitably by my Black Blood, our elite force.' uttered the chief. Tarzan strained his neck to confirm his suspicion of the identity of the chief but Volgende kept the jungle man's head bowed down. The chief moved closer and replaced Volgende's hand on Tarzan's head. He gripped the hair strands tightly and tilted the jungle man's head back allowing the latter to see his face. Tarzan confirmed his initial assumption, it was indeed Slang of the Hyena Tribe!

'Traitor!' hissed the jungle hero from his gritted teeth.

'No, Tarzan, I was never your ally.' Slang corrected Tarzan. 'I have been a Blood Tribe warrior since childhood and they sent me as a spy to the Hyena Tribe before I turned twelve. The Hyena Tribe adopted me and taught me their techniques, obviously in awe of my innate fighting ability. Secretly, I was also trained in the ways of the Blood Tribe and so I became the best warrior of both tribes. Unfortunately, I was not part of the strategy sessions when you last attacked my tribe two years ago and that's why you succeeded. I remained undercover, carefully reorganizing my dispersed tribe in the last two years. Now, our time has come to rule the jungle! Your death shall be symbol for a new age in this land!' bellowed Slang. 

'That will come later. For now I, Slang - Chief of the Blood Tribe, challenge you, Tarzan, to a one-on-one combat this very moment! Do you accept my challenge?' questioned the chief to the kneeling jungle champion. When Tarzan was not able to respond quickly, he continued and said, 'Are you afraid, ape man? Are you thinking that you are in a disadvantage after being beaten by my guards? I have also been in a fight tonight as well! I have killed your back-up team despite of them being spread out! All four of them are now lying in their pool of blood! What say you, Tarzan? Do you accept my challenge?' asked Slang once again.

'Yes! I will fight you to the death! I will eliminate for all the people you have slaughtered!' roared Tarzan his blood simmering in anger.

'I wasn't asking for a fight to the death but you agreed, nevertheless. Volgende, Derde, release him and we shall begin our fight!' ordered Slang. The two Black Blood warrior relinquished their hold on the jungle lord and along with the other guards stepped back to the corners of the hut to allowed the battle to commence.

Tarzan took shut his eyes and took deep breaths to relax himself and focus on the battle ahead of him. He intended to kill Slang if he had the opportunity, it was not too late to accomplish his mission. He opened his eyes and stood up slowly. The two warriors were face-to-face staring fiercely on each other: Tarzan in his 6'3" and 240 lbs frame, and Slang in his 6'2" and 225 lbs body.  Tension filled the air as the guards waited on who would make the first strike.

It was Tarzan who made the first move, he launched his right elbow and targeted Slang's jaw. Slang's expert reflexes helped him evade the attack. He dodged Tarzan's elbow and released his knees to the jungle hero's guts, dealing three successive assaults. The jungle lord curled in the impact of Slang's attack. Slang took the opportunity and slammed his elbow the the former's crown. Instantly, Tarzan's body sagged almost losing his consciousness, before he could recover his head was snapped sideways, spit mixed blood sprayed out from his mouth and he felt himself lifted from the ground. The jungle champion landed a foot away, dizzy after the Blood Tribe chief smacked his jaw with a right hook. Slang jumped up and tried to land his feet on the prone jungle man's head, fortunately, Tarzan rolled aside and stood up hastily. He used the momentum to deliver an uppercut to the chief's jaw which missed barely hitting the latter's face. However, the jungle champion followed-up with a right hook of his own and this time it connected as well as the next left straight punch which broke Slang's nose knocking him backwards.

The Blood Tribe chief swore as he landed on his butt from the jungle heroe's attack but he prepared himself for the next assault such that he was able to parry the next straight punch Tarzan launched. Like a snake, Slang coiled his legs around the jungle lord's arms and forced the latter to the ground as well. The chief performed an armbar to the supine Tarzan and bent the hero's arm to its opposite direction nearly tearing out the ligaments and tendons. The jungle hero bellowed on the sudden onset of pain which became worse as Slang added twisting motions. 'Submit to me, Tarzan! Say that I am the stronger man!' urged Slang.

'Never!' said Tarzan defiantly. He gathered his strength and maneuvered his body to a position with the least amount of pain. He skillfully stood up with Slang still locked around his arms and with the help of his other arm he lifted the latter high up in the air and slammed him back to the ground. He did this a couple of times more until Slang had released the hold and lied nearly lifeless on the floor. 'Get up!' ordered Tarzan to his weakened enemy. When Slang failed to respond, the jungle hero lifted the fallen warrior into a gorilla press intending to end the fight by breaking the chief's back and neck.

Suddenly, the Slang sprang back into action and wrapped his thighs around Tarzan's head. It was a figure-four headlock! The surprised jungle hero could do nothing but crumple to the ground as blood and air was restricted in his head and lungs respectively. The powerful thighs of the Blood Tribe chief squeezed Tarzan's neck harder and harder as each second passed. The jungle champion's head had turned purple, his breath gasping, his body spasming, and his head swam from the pressure. Desperately and on the brink of unconsciousness, Tarzan searched for one of Slang's feet. When he felt it he used both his hands and twisted it. The jungle lord had intended to dislocated the ankle but his position and strength had prevented him, nevertheless, the move sent shockwaves of pain to Slang's body and forced him to release his headlock.

Light-headed but determined, Tarzan stood up and quickly grabbed the tormented Blood Tribe chief into a guillotine chokehold! The jungle champion's standing position forced Slang to stand up also and further increasing the pressure in the latter's sprained ankle. Tarzan tightened his hold neither letting air inside his victim's lungs nor blood to flow to his brain. Slang choked and grasped from pressure, he clawed Tarzan's arms trying to break the hold but it was futile. Within seconds, Slang's knees started to buckle and his body started to dangle. Tarzan was relieved that the match would soon see it's ending.

The last seconds before unconsciousness were the most crucial ones and that was the case for Slang. Just before his body surrendered in defeat from Tarzan's choke, he focused his hands and clawed on the most fragile part in any man, even on Tarzan. The Blood Tribe chief used all his might and dug his rigid fingers in the jungle champions testicles and squished them hard. Tarzan yelped in pain and loosened his hold, that was his first mistake as air and blood once again revitalized Slang's body. Instinctively, the jungle hero reached out his hands to his private area to remove Slang's vice-like grip, that was his second mistake as Slang anticipated the move and with one arm locked his hand on both of the jungle hero's wrist keeping them at bay and immovable. Tarzan summoned his strength to break Slang's gripped on his wrists but the pain in his balls distracted and weakened him, he found it impossible to escape. The advantageous position over th jungle champion encouraged Slang even more, the pain in his ankle seems to have trivial now. He not only squeezed Tarzan's balls to mush but pushed it deeper and deeper inside the jungle champion's body, raising the buckling jungle hero. The pain increased exponentially: Tarzan shut his watery eyes in agony, felt like puking from the pain and let out a whimper of discomfort. 'Say your submission and I will release you, Tarzan. Relieve you of your torment.' Tarzan heard Slang's voice as if he was speaking from far away.

'Never...Fu- Aarrgggh' howled Tarzan, he tried to curse Slang but grimaced towards the end as the Blood Tribe chief grinded his jewels to his pelvic bone. The jungle hero's vision turned hazy, irregular and bright spots appeared, he tasted vomit from the back of his mouth, his midsection contorted and noticed his lungs burning. He had not taken a breath in past minutes and his sight is slowly tunneling. After a couple more minutes, Tarzan's rolled to the back of his head, his flexed muscles slackened.

Slang felt Tarzan's dead weight as the jungle champion had succumbed to one his worst suffering. It was over and the Blood Tribe chief had triumphed over the famous Tarzan. The chief relished the image of the defeated warrior's unconscious body in front of him. He will be the new king of the jungle! For Tarzan, it will be his last days but his ordeal has just begun.


Chapter 4

The unconscious Tarzan hung limply from Slang's military press. His arms dangled overhead as the Blood Tribe chief grasped him in the testicles and in his broad, well-defined chest. An hour had passed since the jungle champion had lost his senses and the euphoric Slang had hoisted Tarzan high above his shoulders to show  of his conquest to everyone in his tribe. The Black Blood group had gathered the other warriors of the Blood Tribe outside the chief's hut into the platform for the chief's presentation of his newest trophy. The chief stood regally, proud and powerful.

'I have defeated Tarzan!' he announced as he rattled the lifeless body of the fallen hero. 'Tomorrow shall bring a new age for the land. The age of the Blood Tribe! We shall rule the jungle! All shall serve us or perish in our hands!' continued Slang his voice strong and loud. 'But first we must finish this age. We must pulverize Tarzan and we will enjoy it. The destruction of our most reviled enemy will be ours! Are you with me?!' shouted Slang as he concluded his speech. The crowd sounded their battle cries in affirmation to their king's question.

Volgende and his men brought what looked like a block of wood on the platform. It was a pillory around five foot high and with slots for a person's head, and hands. The crowd cheered with manic delight, Tarzan was going to suffer the Black Blood Execution the most humiliating and worst way to die by the Blood Tribe standards. It had degraded all its victim into whimpering spineless worms and they salivated in anticipation for Tarzan's final breakdown and downfall.

Slang dropped Tarzan into the platform with a thud and ordered his men to wake the slumbering jungle hero. The group obey: they splashed water and slapped Tarzan multiple times to restore him to his senses. Finally and with a jerk, the jungle champion roused disoriented and weak. Volgende and Derde gripped Tarzan's wrists and neck and force them in the slots in the pillory. The jungle hero fought against being restrained but the strength of both guards together with Agt's kidney punches proved to be more than a match to Tarzan's tenacity. With the captive's neck and and wrists properly into place, Volgende locked the pillory and stepped back to marvel their work.

Tarzan was in an awkward position as was forced to face the crowded assembly in front of him. He was standing straight from his foot to his waist but the pillory bent him in an angle from the waist and upwards. While physically not painful, the pillory's first goal is psychological humiliation - a feeling of helplessness. To add on the jungle champion's degradation, Slang tied a knot from a vine and made a makeshift ball gag. He tied it around Tarzan's mouth not just to muffle his speech but also to make him drool like a rabid dog.

Many kinds of torture devices were paraded in front of the jungle hero's eyes to make him despair on what is to come. There were knuckles, whips, batons, paddle, knives, serrated blades, skull crushers, spiked chairs, impaling javelins and many others the jungle lord does not even recognize. Tarzan in his part concealed his apprehension, weak as he was physically he knew that most of the devices will not be used. The Blood Tribe would want his torture to drag on for quite some time and most of these apparatus can kill in half a day or so he thought. However, the jungle hero did suppress a shudder when he thought about the torture dragging on.

Slap! Tarzan was pulled out of his thoughts as a sharp pain spread in his left cheek. Slang had backhandedly slap him hard across the face to gain his attention. Tarzan noticed the chief wore knuckles of hardened clay. with the a loud voice Slang spoke, 'Twelve of you will wear these clay knuckles and pummel our captive. If the knuckles break, your time is up.' The chief proceeded in selecting ten warriors to commence the execution of the jungle hero.

The men stood in front of Tarzan, all them muscular, well-built and strong. The group were allowed to punch any portion of the captive except for the head which was reserved the chief and the Black Blood group. They fitted their knuckles into their fists and in groups of three started to pound the jungle champion's sturdy muscles. They struck everywhere: his chest, ribs, biceps, armpits, hands, shins, thighs, back, knees, elbows, abdomen and his groin. They all had their styles: some struck light jabs to prolong their beating, others unleashed solid punches aiming to break the knuckles and whatever it will hit in one blow; others concentrated on the muscle groups in the midsection and lower back where there were no bone protection; others on the joints of the knees, elbows and shoulders; and some concentrated in the groin as if determined to bust Tarzan's manliness.

Tarzan tried with all of his will to restrict the groans of agony from escaping in his mouth, at most times he succeeded but there times where the beating was too intense that a grunt was solicited out of him. He tried to meditate and to focus his mind to free himself of the pain but Slang was on his side, slapping him to bring him back to the present.

Finally after a couple of hours, all the clay knuckles had been broken into pieces and dawn had come on the forest canopies. The warrior returned back into the audience. Their pounding produced some blue-blacks spots in jungle lord's chest, back, and stomach which some oozed with droplets of blood. Tarzan huffed for breath slightly relieved that it was finished.

Slang raised a whip which meant that the whipping torture would be next. He selected six persons; three on each of Tarzan's side and gave the signal to lash on the any part of the exposed body. The warriors were masters with the weapon as they relentlessly chastised every inch of the jungle champion's body to the point where Tarzan's could not suppress his anguished howls. He squirmed and bellowed in pain. Two hours into the torture, Tarzan found in it difficult to stand and his body would slump as some tormentors were hitting the back of his legs but whenever he would sag the other torturers would concentrate on his his abdomen forcing him to straighten his legs. They cycle continued over and over for some time and his captors laughed hysterically at the humiliating dilemma of the jungle champion.

The whipping continued up to midday as two sets of warriors lashed on the helpless jungle hero. The audience had prepared a feast for their lunch and it was part of the torture plan. The aroma and the sweet smell of the food wafted through the air and enticed everyone to eat. The sensation made Tarzan' mouth water, his stomach grumbled and he realized how parched he was. The warriors laughed as the jungle hero tried to suppress his instincts for food and water especially when the drool on side of Tarzan's gag doubled in volume. The Blood Tribe ate heartily and raucously to psych the jungle champion even more. Slang approached carrying a bowl, the contents of which can not be viewed from Tarzan's line of sight.

'Are you hungry, Tarzan?' questioned Slang his voice dripped with insincerity. 'Well, then feast yourself in this!' yelled the chief as he poured the watery contents of the bowl to the captive champion. It was lime juice! It instantly reacted with the fresh wounds from the whipping and shockwaves of pain coursed through his body. Tarzan's body spasmed terribly, it was as if entire whipping and all the pain it produced was compressed into a single second of madness! The jungle hero clenched his fist, shut eyes and bellowed a blood curling yell. He trashed violently hoping to shake as much juice away from his body as possible. Cheers erupted in the crowd when they saw the event. The lime juice effect waned after half an hour. It left Tarzan exhausted: his cheeks had tear stains, his head dropped, and his body hung limply in the pillory supported only his wrists and neck. 

Slang raised his hand and demanded silence from the tribe.  'Now, the Black Blood will work on our captive's body with their paddles and batons!' said he. The Black Blood group grabbed the paddles and batons. It was a spanking torture and it was the highlight of the day. Each Black Blood warrior will take turn to spank the jungle hero's butt, thighs, hamstrings, shins, ankles, and sometimes the abdomen and lower back until the muscles are pulverized and the area was black and blue. Normally, the victim would be naked but Tarzan was an exception, his loincloth was his symbol. It was as much as important as the man. The execution was named after the faction because of the role of the Black Blood group plays in it and the appearance of the corpse of the executed man afterwards. Tomorrow, when the sun sets Tarzan's body will be displayed dead and with huge areas of dried and clotted black blood.

'Straighten your legs, slave, and be a man!' growled Volgende as he jammed the tip of baton towards Tarzan's navel soliciting a grunt. 'I said straighten your legs!' shouted he as jammed the baton half a dozen times more until the jungle hero was forced to obey his order. Tiende was the first in line. He focused on Tarzan's ass cheeks whacking them in a regular rhythm but with erratic force behind the paddle. Tarzan contracted his butt muscles for protection but deep inside, the jungle lord knows that it is only a matter of time until his behind would succumb to the beating. Tiende knew that as well as and so he let Tarzan perform his little defiance. perfectly aware that with each whack of the paddle his butt resistance is crumbling. When the Black Blood warrior felt the jungle champion's ass started to soften he doubled his pace. Whack! Whack! Tarzan writhed pain as groans of agony escaped his lips.

In an hour shifts the Black Blood group took turns in paddling the jungle hero. Negende also focused on the butt and hammered violently. After his turn and to Tarzan's disgrace he lifted the loincloth to show the tribe of the dark red behind of the jungle hero amid jeers from the crowd. Agt on the other hand focused on the back of legs and thumped the muscles until the same discoloration appeared almost crippling Tarzan. Sewende, Sesde and the other warriors gave their spanking on both areas during their turn. One spank by Sesde on the Tarzan's ass was so strong that it even broke the paddle in two! This torture continued for more than eight hours. 

Midday through the torture and inspite of himself, Tarzan began to cry. Tears of agony rolled out from his eyes and his nose run with watery mucus while his wails of pain escaped his drooling mouth. Perhaps, it was the fatigue, the torture, the feeling of helplessly, of the humiliation and the inescapable suffering. Still, with all his mental fortitude he tried to control his feelings but he knew he was nearing his breaking point.The crowd pointed Tarzan's sobbing. They mocked and ridiculed him even more, thus, increasing the mental strain on the jungle champion.

Finally, it was the Black Blood commander's turn. 'This is for you Gif, our great warrior whom this scum murdered!' howled Volgende a baton one hand and paddle on the other. 'Straighten youg legs, scum! Straighten them!' added the commander as he prodded the baton once again to the captive's stomach when saw the struggling jungle hero's bent knees. But this time the jungle champion could not longer obey the order as his legs had been so badly beaten that he could not stand by himself anymore. Negende and Tiende stepped on Tarzan's feet and lifted him up to position for thieir commander to finish their ceremony. Volgende was relentless in beating the hell out of Tarzan. He spent the hour smashing Tarzan's already battered extremities and when his paddle and baton broke he used his open palm smacking with all of his might. The jungle champion's cries of pain only fueled his thirst for the vengeance of Gif's demise.

When the Black Blood spanking was finished, Tarzan's ass and legs were blackened with dried blood, blood droplets trickled from the bruises.The jungle champion could no longer stand and so Slang ordered to bring the second part of the pillory. The second contraption of the pillory was for the legs, they positioned Tarzan into a forward-inclined kneeling position and locked his ankles on the second component. To add torment, rough stones were place on the part where the knees are position as well as to keep pressure on the joints.

It was well into the night and the chief ordered the tribe to rest after picking ten warriors to guard Tarzan. These warriors are responsible in preventing the captive from sleeping. He did not want Tarzan to have a break from his torment. The warriors had taken duty zealously as used whatever methods they know to keep the jungle hero awake: they would pull his hair, slap his face, spank his sore behind, pinch his nipple and punch his gut. The night did not offer any comfort the diminishing jungle champion.

Meanwhile, the day before in the alliance of the five tribes, Tier stumbled blindly towards Arend's location where he fainted after giving information of Slang's betrayal. Arend, chief of the Impala Tribe, sent Varke to the other tribe chiefs for an emergency meeting. Their plan had been compromised but somehow another one can be formulated.

Chapter 5 (Final Chapter)

The golden rays of the sun lit the forest floors and the birds chirped wildly in the branches of the trees. By the way the morning came, a great weather was imminent. It's a good sign, thought Slang, chief of the Blood Tribe, as he walked outside of his hut. A familiar scene greeted him: ten warriors stood in a platform as if guarding the vanquished man locked in a pillory. The man was Tarzan of the Apes, a once proud and magnificent champion until he crossed the path of his tribe. He felt no pity on the beaten man with the half-opened eyes and bruise-covered body, instead he savored the scene. At long last, the battle that had shamed the Blood Tribe two years ago had been overturned and now the man responsible for their near-destruction lie prostrated before him.

The Blood Tribe warriors assembled near the platform. The air was filled with anticipation as the second day of the Black Blood execution is the best for the torturers and the worst for the tortured. Slang chose 10 men to join the second to the last stage of the punishment. 

'My warriors!  I have received intelligence from our scouts that the alliance of the Five Tribes had withdrew when they received news that we have captured their champion. Today, we will overwhelm Tarzan with our strength!' announced the chief amid the cheers and yells of his constituents. Slang slapped the defeated jungle champion a couple of times to clear the cobwebs in the latter's mind. Volgende, commander of the Black Blood group, removed Tarzan's ball gag and forced him to wear a mouthpiece to prevent his mouth from closing in and placed a stepping stone in front of the bound man much to the horror of the captive hero. Tarzan's heart beat faster as he understood on what they about to do. The barbaric monsters were going to violate his being. The jungle hero struggled pathetically and tried to free himself from his current disposition with what little energy he has left.

Slang laughed at the sight of Tarzan's terror-filled and futile action. The chief removed his clothing to exhibit his naked and ripped body, his manhood stood erect ready for the action. The audience cheered for their chief as he slapped the cheeks of the helpless jungle champion with his penis while they mocked and ridiculed the defenseless Tarzan. The jungle champion protested and tried to curse the vile fiend but only garbled sounds and unintelligible words escaped his restrained mouth. The defiance of the captive aroused the chief even more, he traced the lips of Tarzan with the tip of his junk further demeaning the furious jungle stud. 

When Slang had contented himself of the foreplay, he grabbed the captive's head by the hair and rammed his hard manhood inside the jungle hero's mouth poking the uvula and throat. Tarzan gagged and choked as he was forcibly pushed into a situation to perform a fellatio. The jungle king tried to bite the intruding foreign organ but the mouthpiece prevented him from doing it, frustrated, he tried using his tongue to eject it but the move only aroused Slang. He pushed and pulled his penis roughly, jamming it deeper and deeper into Tarzan's esophagus blocking the latter's air passage. After a couple of minutes, the jungle hero's body squirmed and his face turned purple due to the lack of air but it did not bother Slang as his ecstasy was reaching its climax. 

The Blood Tribe Chief's body contracted when he reached his orgasm and his precious seed exploded into the walls of Tarzan' throat and at the back the jungle champion's mouth. Slang released his grip on his victim's hair as he withdraw his member from the latter's mouth. He smiled sardonically when he saw Tarzan coughed and spat as much cum as he could out of his oral cavity but most of the fluid slid down his throat and into his stomach. Tarzan tasted the sour-salty flavor of his enemy's semen and it made him gagged all the more.

Satisfied, Slang traced Tarzan's spine with his index finger as he moved to the latter's behind to emphasize his dominating position. Slang placed himself in the jungle champion's butt, swiped Tarzan's loincloth aside and poked the latter's anus lightly using his erect cock. The wide-eyed Tarzan shook his head violently from side-to-side and jerked his body forward trying to get away from the further rape of the chief which only solicited laughter and jeers from the crowd. All the efforts of the once heroic jungle champion had been pathetically in vain, as he was unable to prevent Slang's cock to penetrate his butt crack. The Blood Tribe Chief had slowly inserted his penis until it went all the way into Tarzan's behind, he started rocking their bodies slowly. Then he increased the momentum indifferent on how much he was putting the battered body of the jungle hunk into extreme levels of pain. It was maddening! Slang's public abuse on Tarzan's ass had humiliated and tormented him at the same time especially when he felt the chief's hardened member tearing his intestines. The jungle hero felt the spurt of fluid in his insides when Slang climaxed once again, somehow Tarzan was thankful that the chief's pace had finally relaxed.

The crowd cheered when the saw their chief finished his rape of the ape man. Slang raised his hand and signaled for silence and then spoke, 'I have conquered Tarzan! And now, I share my victory to my elite Black Blood guards and to the 10 of you I picked earlier. Make him grovel! Make him know fear he has never known!' the chief concluded in a loud shout as he moved to the side of the platform.

Volgende had the honor to be next the assailant, in respect to the chief, to the joy of the crowd and to the degradation of Tarzan, the Black Blood warrior first pissed on the mouth of the fallen jungle hero before he began his assault. The move caught Tarzan unawares and nearly swallowed all of the pungent liquid down his throat. When Volgende moved to rape Tarzan's butt, Tweede followed to rape Tarzan's mouth giving his own signature way of humiliation and pain and doubling the agony on the bound jungle hero's body as he was violated in his mouth and anus simultaneously.

Tarzan's sexual abuse lasted eight hours. All the Black Blood warriors and the 10 selected warriors had had their turn with Tarzan's mouth and anus. They were relentless and violent; and in the rape of the last men there was hardly any fight left from the jungle hero as he remained almost motionless, a stark contrast to his virile assailants. They left the beaten jungle champion physically drained and emotionally strained as they added trash talking in their assault. The Blood Tribe had lived up to their reputation of squeezing out every drop of pride, energy and strength from their adversary and that was what they did to Tarzan. Tarzan laid in the pillory almost lifeless: his dopey eyes stared down blankly, his mouth hung agape dripping with saliva, semen and urine, his loincloth barely covered his bleeding and sore asshole and his once sculpted stomach bloated with piss and cum.

Slang once again approached the center of the platform followed by Agt. The Black Blood guard held a ceremonial dagger in one hand. He ordered Volgende to bring the ritual herbs for their finale. The last part of the execution was castration and leaving the damned person to bleed to death. The crowd grew silent anticipating the final moments of their archenemy. Volgende removed the mouthpiece from Tarzan's mouth and forced him to inhale the smoke from the burning ritual herbs he had procured. The herbs' aroma jerked Tarzan awake from his stupor, they wanted him fully conscious to feel his slow castration in the hands of their chief.

The Blood Tribe chief slapped Tarzan a couple of times, grabbed his hair and forced Tarzan to meet him eye-to-eye. He said, 'Tarzan, you have been sentenced to death by castration and it will be one of the most painful sensations in your life! I will twist your testicles and manhood to their limit and slowly sever them from your body. Do you have any last words to say?'

Tarzan looked up to the strong and sadistic eyes of the chief but kept silent. He did not trust his voice nor the words that might come out of his mouth. It was finished, his fate was sealed and he was defeated by the hands of the Blood Tribe. His barbaric enemies had thoroughly decimated his body and pulverized his mind that in his thoughts he just wished a quick, undignified and painless death something Slang would not permit.

Slang saw the broken will of the jungle lord and he waited for an admission of defeat or a beg for mercy but none came out from the lips of Tarzan. Finally, he shouted, 'If Tarzan have no more words to say then his final words would be screams of distress and agony!' The Blood Tribe chief moved to the side of Tarzan's midsection and fished the jungle hero's gonads out from his loincloth. Slang gripped them tightly and pulled them away from the hunk's body. Tarzan squirmed and groaned from the onset of the sudden and severe pain in his crotch area.

'Ackkkk!.. Aieeeiie!.. Arghhh!' Tarzan screamed somewhat in high-pitch as Slang enforced a tighter squeeze in his organs. The jungle hero's stomach churned, a sickening feeling welled up his throat, and his breathing was almost completed restrained. His prone body arched upwards futilely trying to escape the continuing pressure brought about by his foe. The jungle champion's shouts grew hoarser and more desperate as Slang twisted the gripped man meat and jewels in a counter clockwise fashion. Tarzan felt as if his being was being shred into pieces that he wished to drift into unconsciousness.

Slang place his dagger on the stretched and taunt skin that holds Tarzan's gonads to his body and slowly started severing the flesh. The jungle hero felt the cold piece of metal and its slow slicing movement amid all the pain he had endured. Something broke inside of Tarzan, perhaps it was the culmination of all the physical, mental and emotional tortures that the Blood Tribe had subjected him or  it was the effect of the herbs they forced him to breathe or the hopeless and despair in his inevitable doom whatever the reason was Tarzan's willpower collapsed leaving him a pale shadow of his former regal self.

'N-no more... please no more... I give.. mercy..' whimpered the stammering Tarzan, he was a bit confounded that he voiced out a cry of submission thinking that he would get a reprieve from his execution.

'Their is no redemption for you, scum!' answered the cruel chief. Slang was euphoric that he has broken the mighty Tarzan and turned him into a pitiful groveling dog of a man. Hearing the jungle champions pleas for mercy was music to the Blood Tribe's ears and the chief continued his work.

'Ackk! No! Acckkk! Please have mercy! I give! I give! Arghhh!!' wailed Tarzan as tears flowed from his eyes. He was bawling like a child and completely oblivious to his shameful actions. The crowd was delighted at seeing Tarzan begged for his acquittal. Finally, with a powerful pull from Slang's arms the crowded cheered! The intense pain in Tarzan's groin was replaced with a slightly less one. The jungle lord knew what had happened. It was over, in a few minutes death would engulf him as a eunuch, no longer the king of the jungle, defeated and destroyed.

Slang raised his bloody hand with his conquest. He proceeded to face Tarzan one last time. The chief grabbed Tarzan's face by the jaw and forced him to open his mouth. To Tarzan's horror and pathetic objections, Slang crammed the dismembered organs inside the oral cavity and then closed it. The chief forced the jungle champion to chew and swallow the remains of his man meat and jewels much to the humiliation of the broken Tarzan.

The Blood Tribe chief release his hold and addressed his people 'This is our finest day! Tarzan's defeat shall reverberate in the jungle and our reign will be immortalized forever! Let the feast begin!' The crowd yelled and in response they prepared the grandest feast in the whole of the Blood Tribe's history

'No more... please... mercy... I beg of you... please no more...' Tarzan's battered body and state of mind was a deplorable. He waited for his death to come but come death would not. In fact, he was tricked by Slang. The jungle hero was not truly castrated but was lead to believed that he was. Slang in the final moments of the execution opted to spare his life and to present him to other tribes as a trophy of the Blood Tribe's might. The ritual herbs helped in the act by being a mild hallucinogenic agent further confounding the jungle champion's mind and the dismembered organs were in fact from the wild bull now being roasted in the fire. Tarzan's sense of reality had been so much warped by the torture and the herbs that even after days from the fake castration he was still groaning and groveling, incognizant of the passage of time and for a death that would never come. All the jungle hero saw was his fall and the revelry of his enemies feast.

The feast would have lasted a week had it not been cut short to three days by the attack of the alliance of the Five Tribes under the leadership of the Impala chief, Arend. The Impala chief's back-up plan for the alliance too had worked as they had caught most of the Blood Tribe warriors unawares. The Blood Tribe's debauchery was their undoing as it caused a weak defense from an incoming attack. 

Nevertheless, the drunken Blood warriors fought viciously albeit with less skill and far from their best form. The 100 Blood Tribe warriors were able to nearly match the power of the 500 strong men of the alliance. The alliance's five chiefs fought against Slang and Volgende and was successful in killing the former. With their chief killed and overwhelmed by number of their foes, the Blood Tribe warriors seemed to lose their will to fight which the alliance took advantage of.

After killing Slang, Arend signaled some of his men to assist him in freeing Tarzan from the pillory. The demolished jungle lord was shivering and mumbling as drool dripped from his open mouth. Fortunately, the confusion brought about by the alliance assault shifted the Blood Tribe's attention away from Tarzan and no more damage was done to the champion.

'Is he going to fine, chief?' Varke asked apprehnsively looking with pity on the devastated Tarzan.

'Yes. Now be quick and careful. Send him to the shamans to attend to him. It is the least we can do to, we owe this victory to his heroic sacrifice.' stated Arend. The Impala chief's back-up plan was actually suggested by Tarzan in one of their private conversations in case the original fails. Thank you, Tarzan thought Arend.

The war with the Blood Tribe and the Alliance of the Five Tribe ended on that day. There were many casualties on both sides: 200 from the alliance and 95 from the Blood Tribe. The Blood Tribe's dream to cruelly dominate the jungle was kept at bay, although not totally eradicated as Volgende and some of the Black Blood faction were able to escape. Tarzan with the help of the medicinal herbs and treatment of the best shamans recuperated his strength and dignity in a couple of months. He may have failed his assignment of killing the Blood Tribe chief and had been broken by them but as Arend said, 'It is not in how much we have fallen but in how much we survive that counts'. Tarzan's gallant sacrifice and actions were revered all throughout the land and he remained the jungle's king, hero and champion.

From his grand manor, Vloek was contemplating. Finally, the time is ripe for his comeback. He had watched Tarzan struggled to defeat his enemies and he was a bit disappointed that Tarzan succumbed to the Blood Tribe's tortures. However, since Tarzan is still very much revered in his lands he still an adversary to be annihilated and that Vloek will do. Vloek's lips formed a crooked smile as he thought of ways to stamped out the jungle's respect for Tarzan.

No comments: