A Boy Becomes a Man -
Almost - Part Two © May 2004
By The Hitman
A full three years had gone by since the last time Boy had tried to prove to Tarzan that he was indeed worthy of being called by the name of a man, rather than that of a child. And while the end result had been positive, the means by which Boy had sought to win the battle had left him doubting that he was, in fact, worthy of the honor Tarzan had been ready to bestow on him.
But today was a different day. Boy was different too. He had toiled hard over the last three years to hone his body into a sculpted, rock hard example of work that could double for a piece of art in any museum around the world. Even though he had the finest model around to emulate, that of his father, Tarzan, his efforts had been rewarded in ways he had never dreamed possible. This day when he looked at himself in the burnished rock that served as a mirror in their jungle hideaway, he saw not a youth any longer, but a true man with a body to be proud of. Today would be the day he would prove to himself, and to his father, that he was ready for a man's name.
It was never hard to track Tarzan down but Boy was a little surprised to
find him in a position of repose when he did come upon him. Despite being
his father's son, it never ceased to amaze Boy when he gazed upon the Adonis
model he came strived to emulate. His father exuded manhood from every pore.
It was this very essence that caused Boy to wonder whether he would ever be
truly worthy to wear the cloak of a man's name but he knew he had to try.
To try and fail was better than to have never tried at all. That was a lesson
engrained in him by his father's teaching.
As Boy silently stood by marveling at his father's physique and strength, Tarzan stood, stretching his torso skyward, his muscles instantly changing shape, size, and definition as he did so.
Boy found himself gawking speechless at what he considered the eighth wonder of the world, the crevices of his father's abdomen, muscle that copied the never-ending rolling hills of the Great Sudan desert.
"So, once again it is time for son to pit his strength against that of his father is it, Boy?" Boy was startled by his father's voice, mainly because he had been careful to approach absolutely soundless in order to gain the upper hand of surprise, an upper hand that was obviously no longer his. He looked up from his father's muscular torso directly into his intense stare.
"Yes, father, the time is here once again. Only I fear you will find
the outcome much different than in our previous sessions." Boy returned
his father's grim look with a broad smile. "And I am going to enjoy every
minute of whipping your ass, old man."
"Bring it on," Tarzan replied, coining one of the popular phrases of the time.
The two circled each other like beasts, giant cats ready at the spring, going round and round, their bare feet stirring up the dust considerably. Each feigned and started, trying to catch the other off-guard. But it was like watching two finely-honed swordsmen as they thrust and parried, touched and withdrew, their eyes never leaving each others stare as they struggled to gain advantage.
Finally, Boy managed to slip in, tripping his father and Tarzan went down, landing on his back. Boy dove, planning to land on top, but by the time he arrived, Tarzan was no longer there. Boy landed flat on his face raising a large cloud of dust. Tarzan erupted with laughter as he now stood to one side.
"You'll have to do a lot better than that, Boy," he chided his son as Boy jumped back up, his body already sweaty and now coated with dirt as well. Boy's eyes burned with anger at his father's mindless derision. Boy leapt forward and the two locked arms. Tarzan intentionally fell backward, taking Boy with him. A raised foot in his son's abs and Boy was air bound over his father's head. Once again, he landed with a crash. Only before he could rise this time, Tarzan was on his back, his firm buttocks pressing down on the small of Boy's back. Tarzan grabbed Boy under the chin, locking his hands firmly together and pulling upward and back. Boy gurgled at the pain that shot up and down his spine as he was bent in ways Mother Nature never intended. Managing to maintain his grasp on Boy's chin with one hand, Tarzan used the other to pull one of Boy's arms up over his knee. He repeated the move on the other side, effectively locking Boy up quite tight. He then simply increased the pressure until Boy was screaming deliriously.
Only then did he release the grip he held on Boy's chin, allowing him to flop forward, striking his head hard on the packed earth, dazing him. While Boy lie there, Tarzan turned around, his back now toward Boy's head. He grabbed Boy's legs. As he pulled back, he settled himself down until he was sitting full weight on Boy's shoulders, his legs pulled back as far as they would go. Boy was in such pain he couldn't get any sounds to come from his own mouth. Only his arms beating on the ground showed the level of his discomfort. Hooking Boy's feet under his armpits, Tarzan stood up, hauling his son's body into the air. As Boy's head passed under his feet, Tarzan gave a great heave and brought Boy's torso flying upward. As he reached the zenith of height, Tarzan forced Boy's upper body to change position, now falling earthward until he smashed him hard against the ground. A mighty whoosh of air escaped from Boy's mouth as every ounce of air was driven from his lungs. Still holding Boy's legs, Tarzan heaved him in the air once again. Only this time as Boy's body came up and toward his own, Tarzan let loose of Boy's legs and locked his massive and muscular arms around Boy in a bear hug. Not having any breath before Tarzan locked his arms around him Boy was swiftly driven into darkness as consciousness left him. Tarzan dropped him in a heap on the ground, sitting down nearby to wait for Boy to wake up.
Boy came to, his entire body pained and knotted with muscle cramps. He kept his eyes closed, remaining inert as he considered how Tarzan had really worked him over so far. If he had any hope of improving his own status, he knew he was going to have to change tactics. But to what that was the question?
"Aw, so you're finally awake." Damn, Boy thought to himself, how did he know? Then as if reading his thoughts, Tarzan continued. "Your breathing changed when you came too."
Boy opened his eyes to find Tarzan kneeling mere inches from where he himself lay. A quick flip of the wrist and a shower of dirt caught Tarzan full in the face, filling his nostrils and eyes. As Tarzan coughed, sneezed and blinked all while trying to move back out of immediate reach, Boy jumped up. Catching Tarzan at midsection with his shoulder, Boy drove the muscled man backward until they collided with a large palm tree. Boy was satisfied to hear a loud grunt from Tarzan. As Tarzan struggled to clear his eyes, Boy struck him with the first of what was to become a bevy of blows to the big man's abs. Boys' fists powered by arms that carried the strength of a pile-driver, his efforts were soon rewarded by grunts and moans as he worked over Tarzan's midsection. He had never dreamed it would feel so good, his flesh burrowing deeper and deeper into Tarzan's, doing who knew what kind of internal damage. Tarzan, seemingly short of breath and starting to slump, Boy stopped the barrage just long enough to try and brace him up. Big mistake for as soon as Boy stopped, Tarzan flew into action. Reaching forward like a python moving in to hug its' prey, Tarzan's arms wrapped around those of his son and with the strength of an ape in human form, he literally lifted Boy off the ground, Boy's arms bearing the brunt of his own weight, bent backwards at the elbows. Boy wanted to scream worse than anything on earth but he was determined not to show weakness so he clamped his teeth down on the flesh inside his mouth. The shearing pain brought tears to his eyes but he simply glared at his father as if daring him to do his worst, something Tarzan was only too happy to do at this point in time.
Boy was feeling light headed as the pain seared the inside layers of his brain. If he didn't do something right away he knew he would be knocked out again. He swung with his knee, hoping to catch Tarzan hard in the privates but the man was too smart. He blocked the blow by bringing his powerful thighs together. Boy groaned as his knee connected with the solid concrete wall that his father's legs had become. But he was not to be thwarted. He swung both legs together and managed to wrap them around Tarzan's torso. As he locked his ankles behind Tarzan's back, he could feel his father's abs tighten and solidify. At the moment, all Boy was glad of was that his own weight had finally been lifted from his arms. Then he began to squeeze. He didn't bother exercising one quad at a time as he often did with his friends, adding pounds of pressure until they begged for mercy. This was no time for child's play. This was man's work and he was determined to prove that he was finally a man. Boy's massive thighs constricted and bulged, his skin heating as the blood flow to those muscles increased, churning like hot lava just underneath his skin.
Tarzan still held Boy's arms but his face no longer held a look of triumph but rather, had become one of concentration. Tarzan turned toward the palm tree that he had been leaning against earlier. Boy thought he had some idea of what his father had in mind. If allowed to carry out his plan, Boy would find himself literally scraped off his father's body by the trunk of the tree. He had to stop him. Despite the additional pressure and pain it produced on his arms, Boy threw his upper body back, away from Tarzan. This move allowed him to straighten his legs, giving him the leverage he needed to tighten his grip ever so much harder around his father's midsection. Tarzan grimaced as his breath was forced out by the increased pressure of his son's formidable leg muscle. He let go of Boy's arms, Boy left now dangling in midair, supported only by the hold his legs held. Tarzan began to pummel the hardened muscle that encircled his waist for all he was worth. He doubled up his fists and brought them down on Boy's abs like an axe splitting a log in a single blow. Boy gave his legs all the strength he could muster. Tarzan stumbled to his knees. Grasping Boy at the knee joints, he tried to pry Boy's legs loose. Suddenly Boy released the pressure, not fully, but enough. Tarzan expelled the remainder of the breath he held inside his massive lungs. Then he realized the trick Boy had just employed. Before Tarzan could suck in more life giving oxygen, Boy tightened his legs again to the maximum he could call upon. For the first time in his life, Tarzan could feel his own ribs beginning to surrender to the massive clench of muscle that held him. He opened his mouth but no sound came out as there was not any oxygen to pass over his vocal chords. Tarzan met Boy's gaze just before he blacked out, collapsing to the ground, Boy still wrapped around him.
Boy knew he only had moments before his father would start to regain consciousness. His plan was simple. He dragged Tarzan's inert body over to the palm tree once again. He sat down behind his father and wrapped his legs around Tarzan's lower torso. He placed his arms around his father's powerful neck, making sure his choke hold was well into place before the ape man began to stir. As soon as he came too, Tarzan began to thrash about, trying to dislodge Boy. Not to be bested, Boy tightened both holds, squeezing until Tarzan held still.
"It's over, father. Admit it. I am Boy who has become a man, overpowering the great white ape, Tarzan." Boy could not help but sound boastful as he held his father clamped tight within his arms and legs. Maybe it was the sound of his own voice that clouded his judgment for he didn't see his father's skull heading toward his face until it was too late. A sickening crunching noise accompanied the move as hard skull bone met the soft facial bones. Warm sticky blood began to flow immediately from Boy's nose and lips. The blow left Boy just a shade short of unconscious as Tarzan flung his son's arms out and undid the ankles that were locked at his waist. With a burst of energy that belied the fact that he himself had been unconscious only moments before, Tarzan was on his feet, hauling Boy up by the throat. Gagging, Boy grasped at Tarzan's hands to support his weight as Tarzan lifted him until his feet left the ground.
"Yes, Boy," Tarzan hissed, "you have managed to teach Tarzan
a thing or two this time. Now I will give you you're final lesson on becoming
a man. I am going to beat you as only a man should be beaten, with my fists."
Boy looked at his father, unsure of just what his words meant but knowing
deep down in the lowest part of his anatomy that it was not going to be a
good thing. Tarzan lowered Boy until his feet touched the ground. Then, maintaining
a grip with one hand, he began punching Boy in the gut. Even with the musculature
that Boy had developed over the years, it only took five punches from Tarzan
and Boy was moaning, gasping for air, his torso red from the blows he received.
Tarzan let go of Boy's neck and as Boy slumped over, Tarzan caught him hard
with a knee, driving him back up against the palm tree. A knee between Boy's
legs and Boy groaned, the pain tremendous and shooting to all areas of his
body. Tarzan hauled him back up and smashed him on the chin. Boy was beginning
to see stars. A stiff upper cut that raised Boy in the air and Tarzan stepped
out of the way as Boy crashed to the dirt.
When Boy came to, he sat up in surprise for he was lying in his own bed. His head swam in pain and he immediately flopped back down.
"You have fought the good fight today, Boy," his father's voice said from somewhere in the room. "Tonight at dinner we will discuss your new man name." Without another word, Tarzan left the room. A soft, gentle hand touched Boy in an unexpected place and he flinched involuntarily. His face turned to the side to encounter a beautiful native maiden. Boy couldn't help stare at her naked beauty.
"Tarzan has asked me to help make you a man in every way," she
said demurely as she stretched out next to the ManChild, her hands lovingly
caressing his sore and stiff muscles. In spite of his aches and pains, Boy
was soon well on his way to another plane of consciousness. Soon the forest
was greeted by a new yell, not so different from that of Tarzan, the ape man.