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I do not own Tarzan or related characters and am not making a profit from this story. The character was created by Edgar Rice Burroughs and is now in the public domain. The story is my intellectual property and is (c) to tarzanstud1@gmail.com.
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Chapter Two--The Strongest Stud In The Jungle
Tarzan scratches himself as he watches from the trees, knowing nothing except that a stranger to the jungle, a man who is clearly no threat to Tarzan, has somehow managed to win himself quite a following.
Tarzan wonders what heroics this man has shown them. Tarzan is eager to show this newcomer who is top stud in this jungle, but he waits and watches, giving his modest mind every opportunity to learn something about this man.
Leather leads the crowd to the clearing and the edge of the beach. Tarzan stops at the edge of the clearing, keeping cover in the trees, still confused at the way the jungle's greatest warriors are following this inferior merchant like dogs salivating behind the meat wagon.
They can't help but notice the two carts in the field, smaller and less practical than any farming equipment they have seen make its way into the jungle. And the twenty or thirty large boulders, stacked up in a dozen piles.
As Leather leads the crowd onto the beach, Tarzan scans the edge of the jungle, the field, the beach, making sure there are no hidden men ready to spring a trap on these jungle inhabitants. All is safe.
Leather slowly paces the field beside the beach as the native warrior studs look with awe at the typical farming equipment. They are hunters, gatherers, and warriors, and as simple as the equipment is when used to harness the strength of a mule, or an ox, they have never seen it before.
Finally, Tarzan must act. He swings down from the tree, landing on the beach in front of the pirate, standing up to him at full strength. Mighty Tarzan knows he intimidates all who see him. It is time for Tarzan to restore order on the beach.
Leather stops his pacing and gasps when he looks Tarzan over. His black tights bulge at the sight of Tarzan.
Tarzan can see the fear he inspires in this stranger. He puffs up even bigger, his muscles flexing in front of the outsider.
"What you do in Tarzan jungle?" the ape man asks, abruptly demanding an answer, showing his unwavering authority. Leather can't help but stare at how perfect a man Tarzan is, built just right, the perfect breed for slavery.
"I am here only to offer a test for the strongest men here in your jungle," Leather replies, equally assured.
"Jungle men not interested in test," Tarzan says, sneering defiantly at the outsider, ignorant in the ways of jungle warriors. "Tarzan say you go. Leave jungle in peace."
Leather chuckles, confident, turning and pointing to the men that have followed him to the water's edge to take on this challenge.
"It seems some think differently, Tarzan," he says, putting a mocking emphasis on Tarzan's name, proving him wrong right from the start.
Tarzan looks at the men who have answered the challenge. They are the most celebrated warriors of a dozen different tribes. His small brain churns away, and he realizes these men must have been tempted by a worthy reward.
"What men get for test?" Tarzan demands.
"The strongest man in the jungle gets to wear this--in pride!" Leather says, holding up what looks like an illustrious gold crown, decorated in mystic gems.
The gleam of the gems catches Tarzan's eyes, as it did the brave, built men that followed Leather there. Tarzan's eyes grow wide at the dazzling gems in front of him. His heart races at the sight of it, but he tries to conceal his lust for it. Tarzan looks again at the gathering of mighty jungle bucks.
Leather smiles when he sees Tarzan's reaction to the crown, the jewels distracting Tarzan as they had the others, with none of these dozen savage studs realizing it is no crown Leather holds, but a collar. They gaze at it like dogs drooling for a bone, and Leather holds it up high for everyone to see.
"This spoil goes to the strongest!" Leather proclaims, holding it high, and the men stand transfixed by its captivating beauty.
"You save time," Tarzan says, looking at the strongest of the strong in front of him. "All in jungle know who is strongest. Jeweled crown can go to him!"
Tarzan reaches for the collar, cocky and confident, knowing his strength and power cannot be questioned, but Leather pulls the collar out of Tarzan's reach. He smile's at Tarzan's lust for the shiny gold and red gems, knowing the savage has never seen anything like it before. The gold and gems gleam from the sunlight, enchanting Tarzan even more.
"Only the strongest man gets to wear this with pride!" Leather says.
"Tarzan king of jungle!" the ape man proudly proclaims. "Who dare challenge his strength?!?"
A dozen men step forward cautiously at Tarzan's challenge, the lure of the collar stronger than mighty Tarzan's strength and power over them. Leather can already see his plan will be a success, seeing how eager all these jungle bucks are to work like animals to wear the gold collar.
Leather holds his whip in hand and uses it to point over to some wooden yokes that lay out where the field turns to beach.
"The first challenge is to bear the wooden yoke and fill the clay jars on each side by walking into the ocean and back to the beach," Leather says to the eager studs of the jungle. "I want to see who can fill this iron tub the fastest!"
There is a commanding tone to Leather's voice, speaking loudly and with authority, making sure all hear and understand him. There is only a moment's pause before the first warrior stud leaps into action and runs to the closest yoke, hoisting it onto his shoulders and scrambling for the water.
Leather sits on a bamboo chair, holding his whip and watching with a smile at his future slave stock already trying to outwork each other. Four or more follow immediately after the lead warrior, and the rest are hard on their heels. Tarzan merely watches them run off to perform the first challenge.
Leather's tights bulge as he holds his cat o' nine tails whip in his clenched leather fist.
"This is perfect, just what I wanted to see," he says to himself, too soft for Tarzan to hear. "Work my slaves. Prove your worth to your future Master."
Tarzan watches the athletic men walk into the ocean, filling the buckets on their yolks. The sight of them showcasing their muscles, tuned through a lifetime of jungle living and fight, has Tarzan yearning to show his own superior power.
"Look how strong those men are!" Leather says, trying to psych Tarzan up, toying with his ego.
"Men strong, but none stronger than king of jungle!" Tarzan says, noticing one yolk that remains unclaimed. Tarzan rushes to the yoke, throwing it over his shoulders and sprints full speed for the ocean, low to the ground, his mighty thighs powering through the sand.
"Mmm, yes, that's it Tarzan!" Leather says, clenching his whip handle tighter as he watches the ape man, already thinking of what it would be like to own such power as a slave. "Let me see how strong you are!"
The fastest men are already leaving the ocean, buckets full, and Tarzan smacks one on the left end of his yoke and the other on the right end as he runs into the ocean. Leather watches Tarzan intently, thinking, "This is the one I want to collar and keep as a slave. The other warriors are no match already with your skills."
Tarzan is plowing out of the ocean, buckets full, muscles straining with the load, but barreling on full speed. Leather sees his body strain and flex as he carries the yoke with the water pots. Leather feels his sheer tights bulge even more as he watches.
Tarzan gains ground, but he cannot make up for his slow start, finishing sixth. Leather watches as the last men haul their full yokes up the beach, all the men straining, all so strong, bronze skin, perfect slaves just to look at even. Strong backs, shoulders, powerful legs.
He studies Tarzan's build, imagining what a perfect mule or horse he will make, harnessed to Leather's cart.
The men stand panting under their yolks beside the filled up pot, looking at Leather, their task completed. He gets up from his chair and walks down to them, pacing slowly back and forth, holding his whip. He looks at two of the men that are panting, the last two to empty their jars.
"You both are not fit to continue," Leather declares. "Leave now."
The rest of the men stand tall and strong, confident. But now they know what the stakes are. There is no margin for defeat if they are to claim the crown of the jungle's strongest stud.
END OF CHAPTER TWO -----------------------------------------------
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