Not the brightest star in the heavens .. Donovan wasn’t in cahoots with Reilly for his brains. When it came down to it .. when he had to pull out all the stops .. Reilly was your man. Ruthless in getting what he wanted. But if you were looking for sharp intellect and sound advice .. best look some other way …..
“Reckon he must be some fucking masochist, that Tarzan.”
Reilly was half-muttering to himself. Donovan glanced over at him. The pair of them tied to a stake .. Reilly still had his pants down around his ankles .. showing all.
“Prick’s not even trying.”
Donovan returned his concerned gaze back at that altar stone. Reilly scoffed.
“I guess some guys are into this kinda thing ….”
Reilly was a world-class arsehole, Donovan thought. This Tarzan had to be hurting .. after the vicious beatings they had witnessed. The chief had jumped down leaving Tarzan isolated up there. His signal to his warriors to make a grab for Tarzan. Ankles grabbed, yanked down. Muscle-heads all over him. Pining his back down on that slab.
“He enjoying letting them walk all over him?”
Donovan had always known his partner was an asshole. Tarzan wasn’t putting up a fight for the same reason Donovan had given up trying to wriggle himself free of the cord pinning him in this stake. Waste of fucking time.
“The prick must enjoy having the shit beaten out of him.”
How the hell was Tarzan supposed to get out of this cave it he got free, dickhead? A nervous Donovan mocked Reilly in his head. Like how were THEY supposed to get out? There was a hate-filled crowd between them and the outside world. This place was packed to the roof. Tarzan got free, he made a run for it. .. he’d not get a yard through that mad mob. They’d tear him limb from limb. The sucker was going to have to tough it out. Had no other fucking choice. And might as well save his strength, then. Donovan reckoned that Tarzan was going to need it.
There had to be some notches carved into the side of the stone. Some natives had been tying his ankles in place, pinned them to the side of the boulder. Donovan saw the apeman had his feet flat on the floor, either side of the stone. Legs splayed out, bent at the knee. Now at his head end more of the evil black suckers had his bound hands. They were pulling him on his back towards the end, stretching his hands over the back of his head.
Dragging him till his head dropped off the stone. Reilly was right, Tarzan wasn’t fighting them .. what was the point? Donovan understood. Why get the shit beaten out of him? The sucker was going to need all the strength he could find. What was the point, Reilly, in getting the crap kicked out of you? Donovan saw they kept on tugging Tarzan further till his shoulders were free of the slab too. Then they started hauling back on his hands behind his head. Tying them at the base of the stone.
Seeing him like that, Donovan shook his head .. in worried anticipation. Horribly vulnerable, poor fucker! Like that .. if they went for him seriously .. the fucker was done-for. Like that .. shit-all he could do to protect himself. Inescapably pinned down. The drag on his arms had his solid muscled chest arched up. The pull had his belly sunk massively in, in profile Donovan could see hard muscled abs sticking out. The sucker couldn’t even see what they’d be doing. Shoulders hanging off the end of the rock, head slung back down .. best he could see was the torchlight flickering on the roof of the cave.
No, dickhead, Tarzan wasn’t into it, Reilly. He wasn’t getting off on letting himself be tortured. Reilly could be such a prick! Tarzan didn’t strike Donovan so much tamed as being realistic. What the fuck-choice was left to him?
Donovan hadn’t been much bothered what they had had in mind for the apeman .. and right now he had worries enough of his own. Taken captive .. slave to this asshole in his body-paint. But this sight of a man helplessly stretched out on a slab of rock .. laid out for body-breaking torture .. it was another worrying piece in the jigsaw. Evidence of the mean-minded cruelty of this chief. And stupidly they themselves had fallen into his hands. Life as a slave to that prick .. no way!.
Stretched out like that, if they went for Tarzan now .. utterly vulnerable – sickeningly done-for. And why else had these savages gone to so much trouble? Fight them back? Against those numbers? And where was he supposed to go?
Tarzan had no fucking choice. Was going to have to put up with it .. see this through best he could. Letting them stretch him out .. like some lamb to the slaughter .. what the fuck was he supposed to do, Reilly?
No. Stalwartly that Tarzan had chosen his path. Not tamed. Not letting them walk all over him. Realistic. He was going take it. That took some fucking courage. Lining himself up for god-knew-what. But there was a resoluteness in his demeanour. Where was the dude crying out in terror? Would it have been so wrong to beg? In the circumstances? Donovan reckoned he himself would’ve been pissing his pants.
Helplessly stretched out .. like on some medieval rack. Every bit of that muscular physique defined by the pull. And every muscle in his hard-packed body giving it back. Not a trace of fear .. standing up to that asshole .. that took some guts. Courage in the face of deadly threat. Every fibre in his powerful torso defying this chief. Showing this arrogant arsehole in his white body-paint he did not have Tarzan beat. And wouldn’t.
BUT, thought Donovan to himself .. with a tremor of a smile of admiration at the apeman’s guts .. but he was a realist himself .. Tarzan, you’re gonna have to be some world-class motherfucker to tough this one out.