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.