Child of Tarzan

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Sounds caught Tarzan’s attention. He whipped his head over. Peering around his arm raised behind his head, seeing warriors coming into the cave .. armed with their spears. Haughty, the chief followed .. head high in triumph, chest raised in assurance of his command over this act. Silent mockery filled the air.

The tell-tale sign was the slave-girl, still naked. Brought back to get Tarzan prepared. Tarzan resented what she had done .. her role in his humiliation and defeat. But he could not hate her. She had no choice. Like himself ….. No choice.

So this was to be it ….? And he couldn’t stop it happening? The girl had proven that. This was rape. The first act of many .. if this chief got his way. Tarzan would be forced to get hard. Their so-called goddess would deign to mount his helpless body. Disinterested she’d ride his shaft .. like sticking a dildo inside herself. The mighty Tarzan reduced to a dildo.

Breed from him. Ride him till he was forced to surrender his seed. Uncaring. Force it out of him. Taking a slave’s life-force. Letting “it” plant itself inside her. And then unfeeling, the act done .. she’d turn her back on “it”. Got better things to do. Fitting his rape in between higher tasks.


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in praise of men we’d like to be





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