Tarzan and the Lost tribe

A rendsz’ world story told in pictures

Featuring as:Tarzan - Rogan O’ConnellCarter - Chad Demchik

BLACKMAIL 4

NO HARM 7

CAPTURE 9

GOD OF FURY 11

SACRIFICE 13

BLASPHEMIES 15

REGRETS 17

PUNISHED 19

SONGS OF PAIN 21

USED 23

FULL MOON 25

END 27

Blackmail

Carter had Tarzan over a barrel. His partner had Korak somewhere .. in a location unknown. Even if he shook Carter off, how was he supposed to set his son free? “We don’t come back …”Carter sneered, knowing he had the upper hand, .. “ .. your brat’s going to be digging himself an early grave.”

“Lost tribe? Doesn’t exist,” Tarzan had scoffed. “A legend, that’s all.”Carter wasn’t listening.“Lost, that’s all. Don't mean, Doesn't exist. Simply not found .. along with all that treasure …..” Carter wouldn’t hear of anything else.“And if anyone can find a tribe that’s lost .. it’s the apeman.”

They had set off. Carter had thrown Tarzan’s knife away. But he kept his own rifle to hand. “We come back empty-handed, apeman .. kiss goodbye to your brat …..”A myth. There was no lost tribe. Legends grew with the telling .. along with the glory of their treasure .. Tarzan was convinced of that.

Carter thought he had Tarzan by the short-and-curlies. He’d risk nothing to save his son. But Tarzan had no worries about overpowering Carter. He was armed with nothing but patience. It was just a matter of waiting for the right moment. And then Tarzan would work on Carter. Force would unlock Carter's mouth .. telling where Tarzan could find his son.

Carter was wary, of course. So far Tarzan’ hadn't found his chance. And now it was too late. Tarzan had got the shock of his life.It did exist. Tarzan had found the lost tribe.

No harm

“We mean no harm.”Tarzan spoke boldly to the strong-looking man blocking their path and glaring at him.“We come in peace.”Tarzan had already taken in the half-dozen armed warriors, spears all pointing towards him.The chief just glowered. And glanced behind Tarzan.

Another group of fierce looking men blocked the way back. Spears up. Trapped in this narrow ravine, no way forward, no way back. Tarzan was unarmed. And by the time Carter unslung the rifle, he’d have a spear in his back.“We are lost. We mean no harm," he repeated.Tarzan knew his words were a lie. Carter had what he was looking for.

The chief’s gaze took in the pair’s predicament .. trapped in this ravine .. no way of escape.“Harm is already done.”The voice was a strong and deep as the man’s chest.“You came. Uninvited. Unwanted.”

Tarzan stretched put his arms .. conciliatory.“Then let us go. We did not mean to offend.”He was already sure who these people were. And from the anger on the chief’s face, from the hostility of those spears ... he knew they were not welcome.

The chief glowered. His eyes withdrew into the blackness of his glare. “No one ... no one leaves this valley.”Men from behind edged forward. Tarzan saw the leather cords. Coming to tie them up.“No one leaves alive.”

Capture

Incredible. Lost tribes did not exist. And yet Tarzan had found them. No. They had found Tarzan. And he was not welcome. Carter glared furious at Tarzan. Angered at him letting a warrior bind cord around a passive Tarzan's wrists. Tarzan's submissiveness was too much for Carter.“Fuck that!”Carter was grabbing for his gun. But a spear cracked him across the back of his head. A kick to his knee felled him to the dirt. A pair of warriors were on him before he hit the ground.

Carter was a hot-head. His temper would get them into trouble. HIS greed had got them into this. But the pair of them were going to pay the price. Punches to the back of his neck stilled Carter’s struggles. Vicious kicks to his body killed his fight-back. The weight of battling warriors subdued him. Showing their presence was not wanted. Ironically Carter had got what he wanted. They’d found the lost tribe. And they were far from welcome. Staring into the cold-hearted features of this chief, Tarzan could see he wasn’t one for listening.

They were out-numbered, trapped in this ravine. Never fight their way out. Again Tarzan chose to bide his time. Hands tied in front, rope had been passed through the crooks of his elbows. It was pulled tight across his back, he winced. Carter had taken a good number of punishing blows. Down in the dirt, half-stunned. Elbows were pulled together in his back too, hands clasped tight into his belly. Tied up like Tarzan.

They yanked Carter to his feet. Woozy, seeing themselves surrounded by a wall of spears .. Carter now looked scared. Until a bag was thrown over his head. He started to wriggle then, shouting out, fighting off the blindfold. A warrior's smack with a fist hard into Carter's gut made him bawl. His knee broke under him.

Tarzan’s bag over his head smelled of blood and dead flesh. A strong hand grabbed an unseeing Tarzan by the scruff of his neck .. pushing him forward. Captive of a lost tribe that did not exist. The chief’s words still jangled in Tarzan’s head. No one unwelcome got out of this valley alive.

God of fury

Sounds of women’s curiosity let Tarzan know they had arrived. He heard a child crying out in fright at the sight. This lost tribe were not used to strangers. And had these children ever seen a white man? They were unwelcome. Through his bag Tarzan sensed a heavy curtain of hostility settling down on them.

The shrine was a cave, not large. But when they’d whipped the bag off his head, when his eyes adjusted to the dimness, one thing stood out. A monstrous evil looking image on the wall. The three-eyed glare of an angry god resenting this intrusion into his realm. “Fuck me!”Carter was staring open-mouthed at the giant image of fury –incarnate. Fangs caked with blood. Gaping wide to take a bite. Rip flesh from bones.

A witch-doctor had rattled his magic over Tarzan’s front after the bag had gone. His face hidden behind a grotesque mask. But his every body gesture was riven with anger, disgust, disdain. That strangers had come unbidden. Their arrival had infuriated their god. The witch-doctor retreated to the altar stone. Chanting. Incanting to placate their god. Fervently pleading for mercy .. for failing to keep sacred his domain.

No need for bonds now. There was one entrance only to the shrine .. about twenty armed men blocked any escape. Whatever was planned in this shrine, it would happen whether Tarzan willed it or no.

Hands shoved him forwards .. towards a giant flat-topped stone. A kick in the back of his knee and a push down on his neck ordered Tarzan to kneel, his thighs pressed up against the boulder. Observant Tarzan took in the warning stains. Browns and dark-reds of spilled blood had seeped into the stone. Tarzan was kneeling at their stone of sacrifice.

Sacrifice

Pushed to his knees, a leather strap was quickly fastened across the back of Tarzan's thighs .. binding his legs to the side of a blood-stained stone. Tarzan glanced over at Carter, saw him upright on his knees too, a terror filling out Carter’s body. But what did he expect Tarzan to do? Carter’s greed had brought this on himself. And on Tarzan too.From the other side of the stone, a warrior roughly grabbed for Tarzan’s hair and yanked him forwards. Pressed his front down onto the stone. Bent at the waist, his broad chest forced down onto the blood-stained rock. Pressed down onto the earlier blood-lettings.

Was life to end like this? In a perfect posture to have his head hacked off? Life wasted for Carter’s greediness? Already another leather cord had encircled the back of Tarzan’s neck and been secured on the other side of the stone. Tarzan was laid out, trapped. On his front, bent at the waist, a neck-strap fastening his chest onto the old blood on this sacrificial stone. Where this lost tribe had sacrificed other unwelcome guests to their angry god.

“Fuck it, Tarzan .. Do something. Say something.”If anyone deserved this fate, Carter was in the right place. Tarzan’s attention was more on the chief. Forcing his head up, Tarzan had seen him approach. In his hand, though, not a knife. Not a blade of sacrifice. A long cane.

Pain bit a giant chunk out of Tarzan’s backside. The savage force jarred his front forward over the stone. Shock rushed up the length of his back and threw his head back. His jaws clamped together against the sting of the lash. The chief was taking the honour on himself. Slashing pain out of unwelcome intruders. Another breath-taking hit smacked Tarzan hard. His backside burned, his torso jerked. His head jolted upright against its bonds. His hands were free .. but useless. Clenched together tight. There was no escaping, leather straps pinned him to the stone. Another bite of leather stung his burning backside. Tarzan’s mouth ripped open in a silent cry.

The chief was doing the honours. Slashing with muscled ferocity into this profane body that had dared invade their lands. Teeth gritted with effort .. his muscular weight twisted into the blow .. seething he sent the cane whistling at the disrespectful backside. Making an offering. Bringing his god this blasphemous intruder’s pain. Sacrificing his pain to a justly indignant god.

Blasphemies

Carter had howled. The first blows on his backside had resounded to the tune of foul-mouthed obscenities. Fucking their god-damned evil god to hell. “No fucking god. Just some ugly git daubed on a wall.”But still the cane had pounded away .. intent on silencing his profanities. Slashing. Thwacking. Stinging. Twisting his foul-mouthed cursing into animal howls. Blows had rained down with extra force to stop up his blasphemous mouth.

Tarzan was ignoring Carter's sobs .. the fool was getting what he deserved. The ferocity of the attack on his own backside had left himself winded. He forced his head up .. saw the chief take the sweat-coated cane as offering to his witch-doctor. Offering the god their pain. Tarzan blinked through pain-streaked eyes. His heart was thumping through his chest into this sacrificial stone. His torso rocking as he himself fought for air.

Reverently the chief had received another weapon from the witch-doctor. Tarzan tensed, the chief returned to the stone. Dangling from his hand a long strap of leather. Standing right before Tarzan. A warning .. that instrument of torture menacing his sight. Carter must have been watching. Seeing that murderous strap he exploded a torrent of abuse. Screaming and bawling, slinging foul-mouthed sacrilege at their fuck-ugly god.

The witch-doctor twisted round .. shocked. His body contorted into a fury that matched the image of his god.“Get that evil shit out of here.”He pointed the cane that had thrashed both their backsides at Carter. Who answered back with a stream of rage and abuse. “Fuck that stupid god of yours!”Bawling. Incensed. Scared. As wild-eyed and enraged as the revered image in their shrine.

“The fury of a god’s heat shall teach this pig everlasting respect.”The witch-doctor’s fury pointed outwards .. ordering Carter’s sacrilegious rant removed. Released from the stone, still Carter screamed out in maddened abuse. Dozens of blows fell on him .. failing to silence his cursing. Trapped, Tarzan heard as warriors dragged a screaming Carter in an incensed rage out of the shrine.

Regrets

Glancing up, Tarzan saw only to the tops of the chief’s thighs. Stood right in front of Tarzan’s head. But he had spotted his body lift as he flung the strap up over his shoulder. And then the chief had tensed.“For intruding here ….”Tarzan saw the thighs before him go rigid. He tensed too .. a sharp swish of air. A burning slash ran the length of his back. His teeth clenched with pain."Uninvited. Unwelcome ...."

Another stinging blow exploded across a back trapped on a blood-stained boulder.“For profaning sacred land ….”Tarzan gritted his teeth. The scorch of an arm’s length of stinging leather tore from his waist up his back.“For inviting the fury of a god ……”Tarzan had clenched his hands into balled fists at the breath-taking burst of pain. Ripping open his resolve in a crippling explosion. Fighting the onslaught. Biting like crazy into the searing pain cutting the length of his backbone.

“For disturbing the god-given peace ……”Tarzan heard the grunt of effort. Head down .. forehead pressed into blood-soaked stone .. eyes crunched together .. in anticipation .. Tarzan’s senses jolted at hearing the grunt of effort. His mind’s eye saw the strap rise up over the chief’s head. And fly viciously down towards his back. His head shot up .. jolted up by a will-crushing blow.“For putting fear into women’s hearts ….”The chief’s fury hit over already screeching flesh. Overlaid on muscle riven with the agonies of vengeful strikes. “Terrifying children.”Savagely assaulted by hate-filled blows, Tarzan crunched his fists together. Bit down on the burning agony. Pain bursting into searing flames on his back.“For daring ………”

After a dozen hits Tarzan lost count. Yet still the savagery went on.“For … ….” Tarzan’s body rang with the fires of pain. His jaws clenched tight shut to hold in the cries that fought like a maddened animal to break free.“For ……….” The chief was powerfully built. His strikes forceful. The burn agonising. His hatred for this intruder intense.

Again his shoulder launched up, his arms high in the air, raising up the strap. Then with a forceful jerk, he slashed it down. Striking the prone bare back at the waist. Laying fiery streaks of pain up the length of this hated intruder’s back. Again. Again. Again.“For ……….” "For ....". "For. ..... "Under a litany of hate tortured sweat ran free. Dripping off Tarzan’s face. Burning in his eyes.

Punished

Tarzan was put to work. To pay. Paying back for his abuse. Expressing remorse for invading their peace. Relentlessly made to labour under a pitiless sun for angering a god. Worked into the ground. Made to cut down trees. Sweating in ferocious humidity hacking trunks down into timber. Knowing the will of a stinging whip if he slacked off to wipe the smarting sweat from his eyes. Labouring to purge his crimes. Earning every swig of stale water with blows of his axe. Making wood for the fires. His punishment for offending an angry god.

The chief’s litany had spelled it out.“For striking fear into the people …..”For each wrongdoing the chief’s blows had lain down their stinging pain across Tarzan’s back. Bathing Tarzan in a fiery oil of tortured pain. Each sharp slash of flaming agony across muscular flesh had made him gasp. Making him bite down hard .. clench tight his jaws together. That pressure blown apart by the force that exploded out his lungs.“ … work him like a slave ……”Relentless barrages of body-crunching strikes rained down. Pitiless. Without mercy. Shuddering into blood-soaked stone.

The infuriated witch-doctor had hissed out a god's will. “Work the dog till he drops."The strap swished. Tarzan's fists crushed together into a pained ball. "Work him till he begs."The evil hiss of leather exploded. Pain snorted out of Tarzan's nose.“Work him into the ground ….. Till he screams …..”Blow after blow .. each like the fiery rod of a god’s fury .. scorching a tortured streak through Tarzan’s spirit. His eyes popped. Pain span in his head like a sickening whirlpool.

Five warriors had been at him all day. Through the pitiless heat .. running with tortured sweat. Exhausting him. Making him swing the axe to express his regrets. Chopping down trees to show his remorse. Splitting wood .. reverberations of repentance jarring through tortured muscle. Worked into the ground. Every moment, every second, never a moment to catch his breath.

Beast of burden .. thick rope digging into his shoulder .. agonisingly slowly .. canes lashed out to make him haul trunk after fallen trunk back. Worked till he dropped. Lashed if he paused. Goaded by spears .. a merciless pace. Worked till his famed strength let him down. No food, only water. And the constant pressure from five warriors ruthlessly lashed out with canes at Tarzan’s tortured back. Driving him on. Driving him to the ground. Driving remorse out of the intruder with every tormented drop of sweat.

Songs of pain

End of that body-breaking day Tarzan spied Carter again. Hauling another weighty trunk back. Tarzan was limping with exhaustion. He spotted Carter stretched out, spread-eagled, suspended in the air. Painful, agonising .. but Tarzan had worries of his own. He was shattered by a day doing the labour of many men. Ruthlessly worked till he dropped. Now he was being escorted back into the shrine. Heart filled with dismay at the thought.

And there hung Carter. After a day left hanging. In the baking heat. Roasted by the sun. Carter looked as good as dead. Lifeless, stretched out like a hide drying in the sun .. pulled into a perfect X .. strung up in the air. Could he still be alive? The leather bonds stretching his limbs had shrunken in the sun. Tortured muscles in his straining legs standing out like chiselled. Was Carter dead? Sacrificed to their god? Sacrificed like this? The witch-doctor’s fury at Carter’s outbursts had hung him out. Tortured for blasphemies. Carter's head was slumped down .. muscles taut, pulled by shrivelled leather. Pure tortured hell. Hard to breathe stretched-out like that. Carter was dead? Sacrificed .. to this brutal death. For his obscenities. His insults at their god. A long revengeful time dying. If Carter was gone, good riddance. But then …. how did Tarzan track down his son?And what did this tribe mean for him?

Back in the shrine. “Every night, after sunset .. he brings his remorse to the god for his offence."Tarzan's intrusion had destroyed a god-granted peace. He had angered a deity with his invasion of privacy .. shattering a god-given calm. Regrets had to be earned. Penitence would be taken. Tarzan’s remorse had to be heard. And then .. after he had cried out his regrets …? A fate like Carter’s?

“This dog will learn. The pig will show respect.”That night, for a second time, again the chief had had Tarzan stretched out over the stone. Personally he lashed the foul intruder with the cane .. ripping agony into an already bruised backside. Savagely the strap tore into a body shattered by back-breaking hard work. Slashing torture into the damaged muscles down Tarzan’s back.

That night there had been no holding it in. No holding back.“The god will hear this pig’s songs of remorse.”The chief’s words had come true. Tortured muscle zinged. Battered flesh shrieked. Discordant Tarzan had sung. The chief had given his god Tarzan’s grating tunes of agony.

Used

He had howled. The dog had bawled. The pain for his crimes had come ripped from him with every blow. But not once .. not a single time had the swine begged. No regrets. The witch-doctor chanted impassioned. Imploring the god of fury. Contrite .. that it was not enough. No remorse. Pleading .. for more time. The chief stood ready, cane in hand, glowering. Watching the stubborn pig jostled exhausted into their shrine .. a third time. Between them, the stone of sacrifice..

“Pain and shame.”The god had uttered his condition for his protection. “Breed from him”. Orders of the god. “This pig’s seed will make strong males. Females will become potent slaves.”

Further punishment demanded for the invader’s crimes. By day worked till he dropped. After, body-broken by punishing labour, he was to be beaten over the stone. Until in jarring tones his regrets sang to their god. And then .. beaten, body zinging with pain, every muscle on fire .. his worthless life would be put to work. Breeding slaves.

After the lashings, zinging with torture, they had Tarzan staked out over the stone. Naked, wet leather tight around the base of his shaft. Bedraggled young women shuffled in. Exhausted, dressed only in rags, slaves. The first was made to mount him. Insert him and rock on him till he came inside. Senseless, degrading, meaningless .. for both. Ordered to it. The condition demanded by an angry god. Not a flicker of pleasure in the girl’s submissive body. Just another punishment in a wretched life. The girl did it .. wanted it over with. Tarzan had no choice.

No sooner done, the next miserable-looking slave-girl was shoved forward. Ordered to clean him up .. unenthusiastically licking him dry .. licking his cock back to functioning life. Then, firm enough, warriors forcing her, she swung her leg over, sliding down. Jiggling, waggling. No urges, no desire. Doing as told. Under the watchful threat of strict guards. Ordered to get pregnant. Make a brat. The pig’s body was an object. A sack of potent seed. Seed that would come to life after he had met his own agonised end. His progeny made to labour and suffer for a furious god. Long after the swine had screamed his last breath.

Full moon

“Three days to the full moon. The god erect at full fury. THEN .. then he demands this pig as sacrificed.” The witch-doctor had heard their god’s demands. Now fatefully imparting Tarzan’s doom. “Three days .. pitiless labour .. expressing remorse. Three days .. to howl his songs of regret. Three days .. to breed slaves to serve a god.”Conditions demanded by a god. Like those fateful words of the chief .. No one left this valley alive. Three days’ grace. Three days for Tarzan to escape.

He lay stretched-out. A vengeful witch-doctor ranting .. out of his head. Communicating the rage of a god. Tarzan awaiting more agonising strikes across his back. Three days before the sacrifice. “His entrails fed to the pigs,” the witch-doctor hissed. “His heart burned in the fires. The people will hack this foul body to pieces. Parts scattered .. thrown to the beasts of the forests.” The witch-doctor hissed out Tarzan’s doom.

Three days. Tarzan had to break free. For himself. For Korak. But only Carter knew where Korak was. Slim chance he was still alive. Even if yes .. when Tarzan broke free .. Carter would be a burden. Tarzan couldn’t bother about him. He’d earned this. Tarzan would leave him to his fate. He didn’t even know the way out, blind-folded on the way in. Carter was getting his deserts. But then .. without Carter how could Tarzan free his son?

Warily Tarzan eyed the chief approach, cane in hand. His gaze lit angry at Tarzan returning his look. Glowering he disappeared behind. A hand ripped Tarzan’s loincloth free. Pain-greedy eyes over his bare arse. Bruised and battered. The chief’s cane had laid down agony .. with all his muscular effort. Fiery-red .. glistening with nervous sweat .. painted with evil stripes. Black-and-blue. Blotched crimson-red.

Another time, more vengeful hits. To make him scream. Thwacked on damaged muscle, burning flesh. Going to hurt like a living hell. Torture .. thwacked hard on bruised muscle. Tarzan’s every sense was pricked. His ears alert for warning sounds. He heard it .. the grunt of effort .. the swish of evil cutting through the air. Tarzan knew. No holding it in. He’d bawl. He’d yell. Their god would hear Tarzan’s pain.

epilogue

Life’s a gamble. In the jungle more so.

Who’s a betting man?In a life-and-death struggle between a god of fury and the jungle lord ….… - what chance do you give Tarzan?

In a single-minded determination for Tarzan to rescue his son from a certain death in the hands of Carter’s partner …… - how strong do you reckon his resolve?

In a fair fight between the devoted adherents of a fury-god and Tarzan’s anger at the injustice of this sacrifice ……- what’d you risk? How much are you going to wager?

Right on! Obvious, isn’t it? We agree, then. And the winner is …..?The outcome of this story is beyond doubt. No more needs to be said.

(Of course .. Shock! Horror! .. it has been known for believers in a god NOT to fight fair ……)

end